Minus

by Jack Davenport

  “What exactly did you say?”

  “Something to the effect of ‘the club was like an old bike, with good parts, that needed to be rebuilt with newer, better parts,’ etcetera.”

  “He didn’t much care for that analogy?” she asked.

  “I believe his words were, ‘Boy, you ever refer to my club as an old pile of garbage again, I’ll skin you alive, starting with your patch.’”

  “I see,” Cricket said, shifting in her seat. “The other side of my uncle that I’ve heard so much about.”

  “I’m not gonna lie. Cutter is tough. Probably the toughest guy I’ve ever met. He’s one of the few men I both respect, and fear. I thought my days in the club were fuckin’ numbered the day of that meeting. Every time I saw Cutter after that, he’d be lookin’ at me with a fire in his eyes. I was convinced he hated me and wanted me gone. To be honest, it broke my heart because all I ever wanted was for the Burning Saints to have a future. I felt like we could learn something from clubs like the Dogs. I just wanted Cutter and the other officers to broaden their minds to new ways of doing things.”

  “So, what happened?”

  “The next thing I knew, Cutter, Red Dog, and three other Saints were dangling me over the side of the Burnside bridge at four in the morning, wearing nothing but underwear and handcuffs.”

  “Jesus, did they really do that to you?”

  “Indeed, they did. I was then told I was to drive a truck containing a load of club cargo and all of my belongings, including my bike, to Savannah, Georgia. I was instructed to stay there until otherwise notified, or hell froze over, whichever came first. I was also told to, and I quote, ‘Stay out of Portland, and stay out of Cricket Wallace.’”

  “Charming,” she said.

  “So, that’s it. That’s why I was out of your life so suddenly and completely. I had no choice but to do what I was told. I was loyal to my club, and besides, it’s not like I had any other options. The club was my life, my source of income, and the only family I had.”

  “Was your life. Is that not true anymore? Do you not feel the same?”

  “The club is still my family and I’d die for any of my brothers, but no, I don’t feel exactly the same as I did back then.”

  “Why the change?”

  “The answer’s not so much a why, but a who,” I replied with a grin. “His name’s Duke. He’s the other reason Cutter sent me to Georgia, but that’s another conversation entirely. Let’s just say, that I understand Cutter a lot more now, and that he agreed with me far more than I could have ever known back then.”

  “Really, how so?”

  “Cutter built the Saints from nothing with his bare hands. It was the wild fucking west back then, and he was able to tame a handful of misfits, and make them profitable in record time. He also managed to keep his crew alive, and out of jail in a time when that took deep pockets and an iron fist. The Burning Saints were born in the wild, but the world around them was becoming civilized and he knew it.”

  “If he agreed with you, then why did he treat you like shit? Why did he break us up, and exile you?” Cricket demanded.

  “Because, knowing the direction not to sail isn’t enough information to take a boat into open waters. A good Captain charts a course and has the experience to know how to steer clear of waves when they come,” I said.

  “Did Cutter teach you that?” she asked.

  “No, Duke did, but I now see that it applies to Cutter, and how he dealt with me.”

  “How so?”

  “Cutter knew most of the money had moved off the streets and onto the web, and that his way of doing things was coming to an end. He was also wise enough to know that he didn’t have a viable solution yet. I, on the other hand was full of piss and vinegar and would surely go out and get myself killed trying to change the world; or so Cutter thought at least.”

  “Was he wrong?” Cricket asked.

  “Of course, he wasn’t. I probably would have gotten Clutch, Grover, and our guys riled up, and embarked on some half-assed scheme that would have gotten us all shot or pinched.”

  “Still, to hang you off a bridge, not to mention what he did to us...”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not at all happy about the way he went about things, but knowing what I know now, he probably saved my life, and maybe even yours.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “I was crazy about you back then, Cricket. I was more focused on you at the time than I was on the club, and that put you in a dangerous position.”

  “How?”

  “If you’re not paying attention to your enemies, you’ll never know when they’re coming for you, and the people you’re closest to; the people you love are always the most vulnerable.” Cricket’s eyes met mine. “Cutter didn’t send me away because of you, but I’m glad he did. I was young, angry, and too impulsive back then. I would have fucked everything up between us one way or another. At least now, maybe we have a chance.”

  “Slow down, tiger,” she said. “Just because I’m listening, doesn’t mean I’m down with the cause. And just because we fucked, doesn’t mean there’s a we.”

  “Is that all that was to you? A good fuck?” I asked.

  “I just said it was a fuck, I never said it was good,” she deadpanned.

  “Ha, fucking, ha, Cricket. You know what I mean. We’ve both admitted how we felt about each other back then, and how hard it was to be apart. I think it’s safe to say that whatever flame we held for one another back then is still burning now. I think it would be a little difficult for you to deny that at this point.”

  “It’s not difficult for me to deny anything. My reason for talking to you last night was the same for fucking you; I had unresolved issues.”

  “And you don’t anymore?” I asked, a little shocked by her response.

  “I never said that, but let’s just say that I’m good for now.”

  “Oh, how nice it must be for you,” I said.

  “What do you expect from me, Jase? Just because I have a better understanding of what you went through and why you left, doesn’t mean I’m willing to forget about everything. Obviously, I still have some sort of feelings for you, but it’s not like I’ve been sitting around pining for you all these years, or that just because we screwed, I’ve fallen in love with you again.”

  “Well, damn, Cricket. Tell me how you feel, no need to hold anything back now,” I said sarcastically.

  “I’m very curious to know why you think we’d have any kind of chance, romantically or otherwise. We’ve been down this road once before, remember? Trying to balance our love life with your club life didn’t quite work out for us last time.”

  “I wish I could show you all the ways I’ve changed in the past few years. I’m aware that I’ve done a spotty job so far, but with a little time, and some patience on your part, I hope to prove myself to you, and show you how much I’ve grown as a person.”

  “I hope so too, because if you hurt me you’ll never hear from me again,” she said, once more using her ‘all business’ tone. “And Hatch’ll probably kill you.”

  “I understand,” I said and leaned in for a kiss. I wanted more, but right now I needed to focus on getting our money back, and how to deal with Los Psychos. I broke our kiss and said, “I’d like to continue this conversation later tonight if you’re free.”

  “I’ll have to check my schedule, but I think I can make myself available,” she said, unable to hide her smile.

  “Good. I’ve got to go pick up Cutter and go over some last-minute details with Clutch about today’s meeting.”

  “Be careful, Jase. You up and getting yourself shot wouldn’t quite be a ringing endorsement for your proposed business venture.”

  “All I ask, is that you continue to keep your mind, and legs, open to me while we figure this out.” I slid my hand between her thighs and kissed her again. She moaned and pulled me closer.

  Club business would have to wait.

  *
* *

  Cricket

  “You want my legs open, Jase?” I asked, pushing him onto his back and straddling his hips.

  “Yeah, baby. I do.” He slid his hands up the outside of my thighs, squeezing my ass once he reached it.

  I ran my thumb over his bottom lip, then slid my finger into his mouth. He sucked on it and I slid it to my clit, pressing the wetness against it. I felt him shift and I shook my head. “Don’t move, Minus.”

  He grinned, slipping his hands behind his head. “You want control, Cricket?”

  “I already have it.” I raised an eyebrow. “And I’m gonna continue to have it, hear?”

  He raked his eyes over my body, his mouth turning up slightly at the corners.

  “Minus.”

  His eyes met mine and he grinned again. “You want Minus, Cricket... or Jase?”

  “Whoever’s gonna behave.”

  “I’ll surprise you, then.”

  I shrugged, leaning down to run my tongue between his pecs. God, I loved the taste of him. I kissed my way down his body, stopping at his cock, already hard and waiting for me. I wrapped my hand around the thickness and licked the precum off the top, before wrapping my mouth around the tip then taking him deeper.

  I slid my hand up and down, cupping his balls with the other, and drawing him in so deep I nearly choked. I couldn’t get enough. I wanted him as much as I did before... if not more. I might not be willing to admit it out loud right now, but I loved this man. More than life. The feelings had never gone away, and I realized pretty fucking quickly that the reason none of my relationships had worked after Jase was because none of them were Jase.

  I gave a gentle suck and without warning, found myself hauled up and flipped onto my back. “I was in the middle of something!” I snapped.

  “Minus doesn’t give a shit,” he growled. “On your knees, Cricket.”

  I wanted to argue. I wanted to smack the smirk off his face, but I also wanted Minus to fuck me... hard. That desire won out and I scrambled onto my knees, ass high and ready.

  I heard foil rip and then his dick was blissfully buried so deep in me, it pressed against my womb. I cried out, pressing back against him.

  “You okay?”

  “God, yes,” I breathed out.

  He grabbed my hips and squeezed, moving slowly at first, then slamming into me until I knew I couldn’t wait another second. “Minus!”

  “Hold it,” he growled.

  “I can’t!”

  His palm landed on my ass and I came... hard.

  “Minus,” I whimpered out, falling to the mattress.

  He fell with me, rolling us so we were on our sides, and continuing to move inside of me. One hand slid between my legs and he cupped my pussy, palming my clit as he buried himself deeper inside of me. Even though my orgasm wasn’t fully over, he built me up again and he bit my shoulder gently.

  “I’m gonna come,” I warned.

  “I can feel it, baby.”

  “You slap me again, it’s gonna be all over... just F.Y.I.”

  “But you love it.”

  “I do.” I closed my eyes. “So, so much.”

  His hand left my clit and he gripped my hip as he slammed into me twice more, landing another slap on my ass, and we came together.

  He kissed my shoulder, whispering, “Come to Savannah with me.”

  “When?”

  “Monday.”

  “That’s in two days.”

  “I’m aware,” he said, as he slipped out of me and headed to the bathroom.

  “I can’t just run off to Savannah, Jase. I have a job.”

  I heard the toilet flush, then he walked back into the room. “It’ll only be for three or four days. In fact, why not take the whole week off, we can spend some time getting to know each other while I take care of wrapping up some loose ends back home.”

  I watched him walk toward me, my body wanting him all over again. “I do have a shit ton of vacation and no critical meetings next week.”

  He climbed back onto the bed, hovering over me, running his tongue over a nipple, before kissing the sensitive spot just above my collarbone. I reached up to run my hands over his beard.

  “So?” he prompted.

  “Yes, Jase, I’ll go to Savannah with you.”

  He grinned, kissing me deeply. “I’ll make all the arrangements.”

  “I like that.”

  He chuckled and kissed me again, then he showed me just how much he appreciated my answer.

  Minus

  The Portland Saturday Market was started in the seventies, right around the time many of the area’s biggest clubs were just beginning to get organized. The Burning Saints were among these “early settlers,” and still put a high value on the people and places that continue to make Portland what it is.

  The market was a maze of vendors and artisans that was set up and torn town every Saturday during the spring and summer months. Families could easily mix in with the hippies and freaks of Portland and enjoy live music, as well as demonstrations about organic, free-range, non-GMO, artisanal Christmas tree farming, or whatever the local college kids were fired up about. All the area clubs viewed the market as neutral territory; a safe public place where parties could meet openly without hassle.

  Cutter and I arrived at Ankeny Square ten minutes early to find Viper and Crush waiting.

  “Well, at least he showed up,” I said as we approached the designated meeting spot. More importantly, I noticed two black canvas duffle bags at Crush’s feet. I hoped this meant the money was here, and the meeting would be smooth sailing. However, if the bags didn’t contain our money, I wasn’t sure if the market was going to remain a blood-free zone for much longer.

  Viper smiled wide, and extended his arms as we approached. “Mr. Cutter, it’s so nice to finally meet you. My name is—”

  “I know who the fuck you are,” Cutter snapped. “Now give me my money, and tell me why we’re here.”

  “You are a man who gets straight to the point. I like that,” Viper said.

  “And, from what I’ve seen, you aren’t, so let’s cut the shit,” I said.

  He focused on me. “Mr. Minus, it’s so nice to see you again. I was hoping it would be you that accompanied Mr. Cutter today. I found you so... amusing last time we spoke.”

  “Yeah. I’m a real laugh fuckin’ riot.” I raised an eyebrow. “You said you wanted five minutes of Cutter’s time, so how ’bout you hand over those bags and we can start the clock.”

  “Right down to business it is, then.” Viper motioned to Crush, who picked up the bags and dropped them clumsily at my feet. His eyes remained locked on me the entire time.

  “You keep those eyeballs pinned on me like that, and I’ll roll ’em to the back of your head for you,” I said.

  “Try me,” Crush ground out, before rejoining Viper.

  “You’ll find that all your money is there,” Viper said. “As promised, I didn’t touch a single dollar. You can look it’s all there.”

  Cutter carefully unzipped one of the bags.

  “It’s alright, there are no tricks or tracking devices.” Viper held his hands up in surrender. “I’m returning your money, just as I found it.”

  “‘Found it’ is a funny way to put it. Personally, I think steal’s a bit more accurate, don’t you? So, tell me why did you steal my money, only to give it back?” Cutter asked.

  “To show you that I could, Mr. Cutter. To prove to you that whatever you possess, can be mine if I so desire.”

  “You hired a crew to steal a fucking Cadillac that had my money in the trunk. That doesn’t make you a criminal mastermind,” Cutter replied.

  “Yes, but how did I know your money would be in the trunk and when it would be coming in? And as you yourself asked, why give the money back?” Viper was clearly impressed with himself, but for the life of me, I couldn’t figure out why. I imagined picking him up by his silk tie, and shaking him until his neck snapped.

  Viper continue
d, “I’m giving your money back to you, because three million dollars is pocket change to Los Psychos. We don’t need it, and we don’t want it.”

  “Then what exactly do you want? I’ve got shit to do, and the constant pan flute music around this place is getting on my fucking nerves,” Cutter said.

  “One thing, Mr. Cutter. I want only one thing, and then we can conclude our meeting.”

  “And what would that be?”

  “I want your ledger.”

  Cutter laughed, struggling to stifle a cough. “What the fuck are you talking about?”

  “Your black book. The ledger you keep locked away. The one that contains your club’s contacts, business associates, bank codes. You know the one I’m talking about.”

  Cutter’s face turned to stone. “Whatever the fuck you think you may know about my club—”

  “Oh, I know a great deal about you and the Burning Saints. Much more than you could possibly imagine. It’s partly because of the knowledge I have of such things, that I don’t care about your three million. I know, for instance, that your book contains a vast array of information regarding the various sources of that money, and that is what I’m interested in. Why go after three million, when there are hundreds of millions out there for the taking?”

  “So, lemme get this straight,” Cutter said. “I’m supposed to hand you some fictitious book in exchange for money that you stole from me? And with the information in said fictitious book, you plan on taking over all my businesses. Is that about right?”

  “More or less, yes. I believe you get the basic idea,” Viper said coolly.

  Cutter’s teeth clenched. “Do you know who I am? I am the president of the Burning Saints. Hell, I am the Burning Saints. This is my town. Do you have any idea of how much shit I can bring down on you at a moment’s notice?”

  “I thought perhaps this would be your reaction, so I made sure to bring more than just a financial incentive with me today,” Viper said. Crush pulled out a tablet, tapped the screen, and handed it to Cutter.

  Cutter’s eyes filled with rage, and his hand began to shake. “You motherfucker, I’ll tear your heart out,” he growled.

  Crush straightened, ready to step in should Cutter advance further.