by Jessie Cooke
“He's still a piece of shit,” Bobby said.
“He still locked up?” Dax asked.
“Yeah. He won't be out anytime soon.”
“You know why you're here, right?” Dax asked him.
“I was selling.” Dax didn't say anything. He cocked an eyebrow and waited for the kid to elaborate. At last, and reluctantly he said, “In Skulls territory.”
“From what my guys took off you, I'd say that you have a pretty lucrative little business going.”
“I don't know if I'd call it lucrative...” Cody slapped him upside the head and he let out a sharp gasp.
“I took five grand off you, and another five-grand worth of product at least.”
“That wasn't all profit,” the kid said, ducking this time. Before Cody smacked him again, Dax shook his head slightly and said,
“So, what was it?”
“At least half that cash was to buy more product, and another quarter of it goes to my supplier for what he's already fronted me.”
“And the other $1250?” Dax asked.
“Well, I guess that's profit.”
“Tell me how much ‘profit’ you make in say...a month.”
The kid kept one eye on Cody and the other on Dax as he said, “It depends, but in a good month maybe two grand.”
“What are you selling?”
“Pills, that's it, just pills.”
“Just pills, huh?” Dax said. The kid nodded. “What about meth?”
“No, huh uh, I don't mess with that shit. That was my...I don't mess with it.” Jigsaw wondered where, “that was my” was going before he caught himself. He seemed to be trying to change tracks when he said, “Hey, I know you guys grow weed out here...” Cody raised his hand and the kid started to duck. Cody was too quick for him though. He used his other hand to grab the kid by the front of his shirt and hold him still before he smacked him in the head again.
“Damn! He's going to kill me!” Handsome rolled his eyes and Jimmie sighed, loudly. Dax still didn't change his expression.
“If he wanted to kill you, he would have already done it,” Handsome said. “But make no mistake, that can still be arranged. You don't talk about what you think you know about what we may or may not do. We're talking about you, you'll answer the questions as they're asked and keep anything else to yourself, got it?” The kid nodded and Handsome said, “You chose to push your drugs in our territory and now, you get to pay the piper.”
“You want...money?” Dax had cleaned up the club, and he'd begun to take it in a more legitimate direction. But, anyone who assumed The Southside Skulls was 100% legit, would be dead wrong. They were still an outlaw club. They were still part of the 1%, the clubs that operated outside the law. The community had slowly begun to accept them, as long as they kept most of their business out in the county and there weren't any bodies floating around. The Boston PD tried to ignore them, if at all possible, especially after Dax hooked up with one of the cops on the task force and made her his old lady. And the sheriff looked the other way at least 80% of the time. Sometimes he was forced to do his job, but Dax and the rest of the crew respected that. The guys that were part of the Skulls liked living outside the boundaries that every day society found themselves trapped in, but there were still rules that had to be followed and their own code of morals. Respect was number one. Selling in someone else's territory...very disrespectful.
“You think you should be able to sell drugs in my territory and I should look the other way?” Dax asked him.
The kid swallowed, hard. “Um...I guess...” Cody shoved him in the arm and his chair nearly fell over sideways. “No, I don't expect you to look the other way.”
“Well then, we need to come to some kind of agreement. Since we're both businessmen, I'm going to lay out a few options and you can tell me which one works for you, okay...Bobby?”
“Okay...”
“Option A, I let Cody decide what to do with you.” The kid looked sideways at Cody with terror in his eyes. Cody smiled at him.
“Option B?” the kid said.
“Hmm,” Dax said, pretending to ponder it. Jigsaw was sure Dax already knew what all three “options” were, and which way the kid was going to go, whether he liked it or not. “I think B would be that I let you sell the drugs in my territory...and I take all the profits.” The kid opened his mouth but glanced at Cody out of corner of his eye and thought better of it. Jigsaw knew that for the past year, Dax had been doing battle with the IRS, ATF and FBI. None of them had put together anything concrete enough to arrest Dax, but old Hawk, Dax's former arch enemy had been sitting in county jail for almost a year on weapons charges. The FBI hadn't taken him to trial yet because they were trying to make the RICO laws work in their favor and take Dax and the rest of the crew down with him. They were probably also trying to get Hawk to turn on the club and talk, but no one seemed to believe that would ever happen. Dax had spent a ton of money in legal fees and Jigsaw wondered if that was why he was even considering going into business with the half-ass drug dealer sitting in front of him now. According to the guys, Dax had taken the club out of everything drug related except for the pot they grow and harvest on the ranch. But desperate times...desperate measures, maybe...?
“Can we talk about Option C?” the kid asked at last, adding, “Sir?”
Dax's lips twitched. It was the closest thing to a smile that he would let the kid see, Jigsaw was sure. “We can. Option C involves telling me where to find Carson.” The kid swallowed, hard. Jigsaw had no idea who Carson was, but the mention of his name seemed to send a chill down the kid's spine.
“I don't know Carson...” A loud smack of Cody's hand and a spray of blood out of the kid's nose across the shiny wooden floor stalled the “negotiations.” After another slew of curses, the kid said, “He'll fucking kill me, man.”
“The perils of the occupation,” Dax said. “Don't tell me and I'll let Cody fucking kill you. So, see, by telling us, you're choosing the lesser of two evils. You get to live a little longer.”
Tears rolled down his cheeks as he said, “I just needed money to pay for my education. You know what a piece of shit my dad is.”
“Admirable.” Dax didn't sound like he thought it was admirable, or that he believed the kid was pursuing any kind of education. His expression didn't change, and his blue eyes didn't leave the kid's face until he finally said,
“He's working at a pharmacy in Back Bay, Hanson's. I leave a drop for him once a week in the dumpster and he does the same for me. That's it. That's all the contact I have with him.”
“And all he leaves you are pills?”
“Yes, that's it.”
“No crystal?”
“I swear man, I don't mess with that shit. I told you...”
“Tone,” Cody said. Bobby took a breath and said,
“Look, I'll stop, okay? I'll pay Carson what I owe him and I won't buy from him any longer. I won't sell drugs in your territory....”
“True on both counts,” Dax said. “Now, back to your options.”
“That wasn't it?”
Dax smiled. “No. I don't want to know where Carson is working. We know he works whatever pharmacy he can get to hire him, and he changes jobs when things get hot and they start noticing their products going missing. What I want to know is where he's cooking.”
“I don't know!” The kid's voice was shaking, “I told you...”
“Yeah, you told me you only sell pills, you don't know anything about any meth...yadi, yadi, yadi...But see...here's the thing about Carson. He doesn't just dabble in pills. The pills are his side business. What Carson does best, is cook his meth, and then he takes that homemade poison and he sells it to little kids, and you know this because your daddy used to be one of his lead salesmen.”
“And that's exactly why I don't mess with that shit,” the kid said, quickly. “You know my old man. You know what a piece of shit he is. I only sell what I have to in order to pay my bills and take some online classes so I'm not a pi
ece of shit myself forever. I'm not messing with meth and going crazy or to prison or both.”
“Admirable,” Dax said, sarcastically. “So, a guy with such principles shouldn't care to tell me where I can find this piece of shit dealer's kitchen.”
“Last I knew, he was using that house out in the projects in Mattapan, the one that caught fire.”
“Nice try,” Dax said. “The unfortunate part of that event is that Carson made it out of that fire...alive. If he's alive, he's cooking meth. It's what he does best. So now, one more time Bobby. Where is he cooking?” Dax's eyes had gone cold and hard. They were the eyes that Jigsaw assumed more than one man had looked into right before he left this world. Bobby at least seemed smart enough to understand that as he quickly said,
“His girl's family has a couple of double-wides out on Seaver Street in Roxbury. I'm not saying I know for sure that's where he's cooking, but it would probably be a good place to check out if you were looking.”
“Good boy,” Dax said. “Okay Bobby, you're free to go.”
“Excuse me?”
“We're finished here.”
“Um...” He looked at Cody out of the corner of his eye. “They have my...um...”
“Your cash?” Handsome said.
“And the pills?” Dax asked.
“Yeah.”
“Since you were in our territory, Bobby, I'm gonna say they were my pills and any cash you had on you, I'm going to assume was made from sales of that product in my territory, and therefore, it's mine as well. Jigsaw here will be happy to give you a ride home.”
“But...I owe Carson...”
“You won't have to worry about that,” Dax said. “That will be my gift to you. You won't have to worry about Carson at all, very soon.” The kid looked like he was weighing his options. It finally seemed to sink in that his life was the only thing of value he was leaving there with. He stood up and said, “Okay...” He started toward the door that Jigsaw was standing in front of. The biker didn't move and when Bobby realized he wasn't going to he sighed and turned back toward Dax and said, “Thanks.” Jigsaw still didn't move. “Was there something else?”
“Just a reminder that I don't want to see you on the Southside with anything resembling drugs for sale again...okay?”
“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat. “Okay.” Jigsaw stepped out of the way of the door and then followed the kid out.
4
Later that same evening, the clubhouse was full, loud, and the air itself was charged with energy. Jigsaw, the man with no real name, and no background, had just been patched into the Southside Skulls. He was making the rounds at the party, slapping hands, bumping knuckles, doing shots, taking hits from every available joint and smoking one cigarette after the other. It was his night off and tomorrow he'd start his new job...following a piece of shit low-level drug dealer around. He wasn't looking forward to it, but the patch on his back and the confidence that said Dax had in him, made it all okay.
“Hey!” He felt a hard slap to his back and turned to face a guy they called BB. They'd named him that after they found out he was in a long-distance relationship with his high school sweetheart. She was in the Air Force of all things and stationed in Texas at the moment. BB traveled as often as his work at the club would allow him, to see her. But, in the interim, he refused to cheat on her. No matter how the girls threw themselves at him, and they did, he refused. The guys needled him, called him gay and pussy whipped and everything else they could think of, but he still refused to give in. He said the only way any of them would even understand his need and desire to wait for his Addie, would be to fuck her themselves. Of course after he said that, he always added, “If you ever even think about it, I'll kill all of you fuckers.” Despite his love and devotion to “his” Addie, the guys knew he not only meant it, but he'd have no qualms about doing it at all. BB stood for “Blue Balls,” and sometimes Jigsaw wondered if those blue balls were what made him so fucking mean. “So, no more prospect, huh? This means I have to get my own fucking beer now?”
Jigsaw smiled. “Nah BB, I'll still grab you a beer.”
“That's what I'm talking about,” BB said, as Jigsaw made his way around behind the bar. He reached under the counter into the tub of ice and pulled out a Modelo. BB was the only guy in the club that drank Modelo, the rest of them refused to drink that “foreign shit.” When Jigsaw stood back up with the beer in his hand he saw a guy he didn't know sitting on the stool next to BB. There was something familiar about him though. It was a strange feeling he got sometimes that other people might call Déjà vu, but in his case, might be an actual memory. The guy was average looking, five-eleven, big belly, long brown beard, long brown hair pulled back in a ponytail, pockmarked skin that said adolescence had been tough...there was nothing unusual about him, except that the kutte he was wearing had a small patch on the front that wasn't a skull. His patch was a depiction of a horse with a skeleton dressed like a knight straddling it. Jigsaw didn't recognize those colors and he was curious to get a look at the big patch on the back of the kutte.
“Still drinking that Mexican shit, huh?” the bearded man said to BB as Jigsaw pried the top off the bottle of Modelo and sat it down in front of the biker. BB picked it up and took a long pull off the beer and said,
“Fuck you, Sidewinder. What are you doing here anyways?”
The other guy shrugged. “Dax summoned me. He summons, I come.” BB looked like he had something else to say but Sidewinder's attention was focused on Jigsaw then. He was staring at the name on Jigsaw's kutte. “Jigsaw, huh? You a mechanic or...construction worker or some shit?”
“Nah, I like puzzles,” Jigsaw said. Sidewinder chuckled, but he was staring at Jigsaw's face now.
“I know you, kid?” It was the first time that anyone who looked or sounded familiar to him had even hinted at knowing him. Jigsaw tried not to get too excited as he said,
“You might. Where ya from?”
“I'm a Knightrider,” he said. “A nomad.”
“Nomad,” BB snorted. “I guess that sounds better than, odd job doer.”
“You should know,” Sidewinder said. “Dax still got you sitting security on bakery and preschool? Sounds like fascinating work.”
“Fuck you,” BB said. The two men seemed more comfortable insulting and arguing with each other than they did angry. BB liked the insulting banter, it was what he did best. He did work security for the club's businesses in town, there wasn't a preschool, but Sidewinder was obviously as good as talking shit as BB was.
“Hey baby, dance with me.” Kimber appeared at Jigsaw's side. She'd had more to drink than she normally did, so she was feeling good. Jigsaw put his arm around her and realized she felt good in more ways than one. Just being close to her made his cock stand up and take notice. It danced around in his shorts when he touched her. He couldn't remember any fucking thing, but he was pretty sure he'd never felt this way about anyone else.
“Sure baby,” he said, before looking back at BB. Sidewinder was staring again, only now at Kimber. Jigsaw frowned but didn't say anything. “I'll catch up with you later, BB. Enjoy that Modelo and start looking for a new prospect to serve you from now on.”
BB laughed his deep, two-packs-of-cigarettes-a-day laugh but before he could say anything Sidewinder said, “Damn, I must know you from somewhere because even your girl looks familiar.”
Jigsaw raised an eyebrow and looked at Kimber. “You know this guy, baby?”
She shrugged. “What's your name?”
“Sidewinder.”
“I don't think so,” she said. “Maybe you've seen me here on the ranch before?”
“He ain't been around in a couple of years,” BB said. “You've only been here what? A year?”
“Yeah. Where you from?”
“Jersey.”
Jigsaw saw the look on her face change, subtly to something that looked like concern, but it changed back just as quickly. She shrugged again and said, “Never been to Jersey. C
ome on baby, let's dance.”
Sidewinder watched them all the way out to the little dance floor in the great room. Jigsaw was tempted to go back over and tell him to put his fucking eyes back in his head, but he looked at Kimber and saw that look of concern again. He pulled her into his chest and she wrapped her arms up around his neck and he said “Baby, doesn't your sister, Natalie live in Jersey?”
She nodded into his chest. Kimber's sister left home when they were teenagers. She took off with a biker and has lived with him in New Jersey since. Kimber hadn't seen her since she left, but Jigsaw often heard her end of the telephone conversations they had once a month or so. When he and Kimber first got together, her sister had been upset over her boyfriend of seven years just picking up and leaving her and the club. But, over the past few months it seemed like things were better. Kimber didn't really like talking about her family or her childhood, so most of the time, Jigsaw left it alone. He didn't know any more about her sister than that, but now his curiosity was peaked. “Does she look like you?”
Kimber nodded again. “She used to anyways. I haven't seen her in a long time and the last picture she sent me was almost three years ago. But yeah, people used to tell us that we looked a lot alike.”
“Well, that's probably why he thinks you look familiar. Is her MC called Knightriders?”
“Yeah, that's it. He probably knows her.” Jigsaw could tell from the tone of her voice that fact bothered her.
“Is that a bad thing?”
She sighed and stopped swaying to look up at his face. “Can we talk about this when we get upstairs?”
“Of course. I'm about finished with this party, so I'm ready whenever you are.”
She lay her head back into his chest and said, “Finish dancing with me first.”
Jigsaw gladly pulled her curvy body back into his. She was wearing a tight t-shirt and a short, black leather skirt with a pair of long, black leather boots. The four inches of black fishnet between her boots and skirt had been driving him crazy all night. He couldn't wait to peel them off her. He held her tightly and they swayed together in time with the music until the song ended. When it did, instead of letting her go, he dipped his head down and caught her lips and they shared a hot, passionate kiss. When he could finally pull himself away he said, “Why don't you go up and wait for me, baby. I'm just going to thank Dax again and say goodnight.”