by Jessie Cooke
“You’re lying.”
“Fine, I’m lying. Here, they’re yours.”
“Did you really steal them?”
“I said I did, didn’t I? When have I ever lied to you?”
“How? That old woman is crazy.”
“I didn’t get them at the market. I stole them from the mall.”
“Oh, shit! Harley! They’ll put you in jail if they catch you stealing at the mall.”
She shrugged and said, “It’s okay, I’m in jail already.” Cody hadn’t known then how sad that was. Now, as he thought about it, his heart hurt for the little girl that she used to be. Suddenly, though, the Ray-Bans meant even more than they had before.
It was just after ten when they drove up to their rendezvous spot. It was a construction site a few miles from Johnny O’Toole’s estate. Dax had an “associate” that was working that job, and he opened up the gates that morning to give them access. The other five hogs belonged to a club called Devil’s Advocates out of Newark, New Jersey. The president of that club, a guy called Chapo, had his own score to settle with Johnny O’Toole. Chapo claimed that Johnny was involved in human trafficking. Chapo’s sixteen-year-old niece was taken after his sister’s husband failed to pay his debt to one of Johnny’s men. He believed that she was still alive and working in the sex trade. Cody doubted that he’d even get a stab at Johnny with this guy around.
The crew waited another fifteen minutes before another white van showed up. The woman driving the van kissed Dax on the cheek and greeted most of the guys by their first name, even Jimmy. While she and Dax were talking at the back of the van, Cody asked Jimmy who she was.
“Her name is Dora. She lived on the ranch for about five years when you were inside. She was dating Bobby, you remember him?” Cody nodded and Jimmy went on to say, “She’s a seamstress. She did a lot of work for people on the ranch when she lived there, and I guess when she left Bobby she opened a tailor shop here in New Jersey.”
“Tailor shop?”
“Yeah, she made the kuttes we’re going to wear today.”
Dax’s plan hinged on the security cameras on the estate and any witnesses seeing the Irish Mayhem ride through the gates of Johnny’s estate; after Johnny was dead, they’d see them riding out too. Liam had yet to show up at the ranch looking for revenge for Stitch and over what Dax and the guys had done the day they got the coins back, but no one doubted that he would, sooner or later. The easiest way to get rid of Liam would be to kill him…or make him disappear…but Dax worried that that would be the same as starting a war, and he didn’t want to do that either. Innocent people would get hurt if that club showed up on their doorstep; Dax wasn’t going to sit around and wait for that to happen. Liam in prison was the less preferable of his choices. Liam would still have control of his club from inside, but as president of his own club, Dax was sure he wouldn’t call for a war while he and key members of the club were inside. At least that was what he was counting on.
Dora and Dax took two plastic bins out of the back of the van and the lady handed the vests out to all the guys by size. Cody was impressed at how much the patch on the kutte looked like Irish Mayhem’s original one. Dax had been in contact with Bull over the past couple of weeks and he made sure that the names and patches on the kuttes matched up with who was not in prison, not dead, and who could still ride. Then he’d had her sew the names on in just the exact way that Mayhem’s were sewn onto theirs. The guys would all have their bandanas…green ones…covering their faces as they rode through the gates. Dax was handing out little Irish flags like the ones that Mayhem had on the backs of their bikes and as a final touch, they had Jersey plates to put on the bikes, ones that Tool had somehow gotten his hands on. Dax’s attention to details never failed to impress and amaze Cody. It was part of what made him such a good leader. He never half-assed anything.
It took them all about a half an hour to get their new plates screwed on and put on their flags and vests. When that was done, Dax made a phone call and said, “Our ETA is six minutes.” He ended the call and told his men, “We’re going to have exactly thirty minutes to get through those gates and up to the house, handle our business, and get back out. The security system can be bypassed manually for thirty minutes with the code my contact inside has. After that, the alarm will be triggered and the police called and there’s nothing he can do.”
When they headed out, Dax and Chapo took the lead. Nolan, Pablo, and Jimmy were in the center and Cody rode behind them with Twister. Hawk brought up the rear as usual and Marty drove the van. The anxiety in Cody’s stomach had turned into pain and it got sharper as they got closer to the estate. He had to keep telling himself that they’d gone over the plan at every meeting since the day Dax told him this was going to happen, and he had this.
When they got a mile from the estate, they stopped their bikes, and Nolan and Pablo grabbed two M-27 military rifles from the van and walked the rest of the way. Everyone else stayed on their bikes and waited. The sounds of the gunfire were just as clear as if they’d been standing next to them when it happened, and as soon as they heard the shots, they put the bikes into motion once more. The gates were open when they got there and Nolan and Pablo jumped onto the backs of Jimmy’s and Twister’s bikes. No one stopped, and forty-five seconds from the time they took off, they were in front of the house. Before they stopped their bikes and got off, Marty had the battering ram out of the van. As soon as they rang the doorbell, a large man dressed in black answered the door. His neck was as thick as one of Cody’s thighs, but he was no match for the thick, metal battering ram coming at him. He took a step back, and Cody saw the blunt end of the metal ram strike the man in the chest. Marty didn’t stop, and the rest of them ran in behind him. He started up the stairs and another man dressed in black appeared at the top. Twister picked up his gun and without seeming to even take aim, he pulled the trigger and that guy came tumbling down. They continued up the stairs and just as they got to the top landing, another guy in black stepped out of a doorway. Cody was the closest to him, so he shot his rifle. The recoil of the powerful gun rocked his 230-pound body back, but he didn’t let that stop him…he kept going. Dax signaled to Marty and Marty used the ram to take down the door. That was the room they were looking for. They found Johnny there huddled in a corner and trying to hide behind one of the big security men. Dax took that one out, and as soon as the big man fell like a tree being cut down in the forest, he looked at Cody and said:
“He’s yours.”
Cody looked over at Chapo. The big man was breathing hard and clutching onto his gun as he stared at Johnny O’Toole. Johnny was still cowering and not saying a word; there was no recognition on his face for any of them. To Cody, Chapo said, “Dax said the deal was you get first shot, so you better take it, kid, or I will.”
Cody looked back at Johnny. Everyone in the room had their guns aimed at the suddenly pitiful little man, so Cody handed his weapon to Twister and walked over toward him. When Cody was about two feet away from him, Johnny visibly flinched. “Do you know who I am?” Cody knew how much he looked like his father. Sometimes he hated his own reflection because of it. He could see the recognition in Johnny’s eyes then, but he was surprised when Johnny admitted it.
“Miller,” Johnny said, his voice cracking a little. Cody saw a trickle of sweat forming on the man’s brow as he did. He liked that he was scared. He wanted him to feel some of what Keller must have felt that night. “Your old man was a gambler, and a drunk. You look just like him.”
“Yeah, he was. He was a drunk and he was a bad gambler and that’s how he met you, right, Johnny? You gave him money to keep gambling and he kept losing and my family paid the ultimate price for it.”
“It’s just business,” Johnny said.
“Yeah, just business. I guess you’re right. It’s not your fault that the old man was a loser. I also had an older brother. His name was Keller. You remember him, Johnny?”
Reluctantly Johnny nodded his hea
d. He probably knew it would be worse for him if he tried to lie. “Yes.”
“My brother was not a drunk, or a gambler, or an asshole. As a matter of fact, when you knew him, he was just a kid. He was a kid working two jobs. One to try and support himself and his little brother, and the other one to pay off old debts that weren’t even his. He did that because you made threats, didn’t you, Johnny. What did you threaten to do? It had to be about me…you threatened to hurt me and that’s why Keller was paying you, right?”
Johnny cleared his throat. “Listen, it was just business. I can’t just give my money away or I’d never make a living. Sometimes it takes putting a little fear into people to get them to do the right thing and pay their debts. I figured the old man was hiding out and sending your brother to whine about not having enough money to pay his debts. I said some things I didn’t mean…”
“Just like you didn’t mean for those two goons with a reputation for breaking bones with steel pipes to kill my brother? I saw what they did to him. His body was ruined…and he probably lived through most of it. The coroner said the fatal blow was to his head, and that one came after the rest. He didn’t just die, he suffered, horribly.”
“None of this is personal, kid…”
“Not personal? You fucking swine, of course it’s personal! He was my brother! Keller was the product of a porn star with drug problems and a drunk that only felt like a man when he was picking on someone smaller than him. He shouldn’t have turned out good. He got beaten like a dog almost daily. He never had enough to eat. He never had anyone hold him or tell him they loved him. He shouldn’t have been a good person. He should have turned out to be as much of a piece of shit as the old man. He should have turned out to be as much of an asshole as I did…but he didn’t. He was just born good and nothing that happened to him could change that…until someone took a steel pipe to his head.”
“I didn’t tell them to kill him. I never signed off on that. I don’t condone killing kids…” Johnny was talking so rapidly that his words were running together.
“No, you’re a stand-up guy, aren’t you, Johnny? You’d never order a kid killed…scared, hurt, or even sold into the sex trade…but not killed.”
“It’s true, I wouldn’t sign off on killing a kid. I didn’t know they were going to beat him like that and before I had a chance to deal with them, you did. I’m not mad about that. They got what they had coming. They took your brother’s life and you took theirs. You and I got no score to settle here. It was settled a long time ago.”
Cody chuckled. “Right, we’re even. I lost my brother, the best man that I’ll ever know and you lost two of your best thugs.”
“They weren’t missed, trust me.”
“Seeing as how I was stabbed twice while I was locked up, in retaliation for going after that scum, I’d have to disagree. I think you missed them, Johnny. I think it must be hard to find human beings that are sick enough to agree to go after women and kids for the debts the men in their lives owe you. I’ll just bet you had one hell of a time replacing them.”
“Just tell me what you want, and you’ve got it, okay? You want an apology? I’m truly sorry about your brother. It wasn’t supposed to go that far, but it did and I can’t change that now…and neither can you, kid. Anything we do now will just make it all worse. I mean, you did your time and it’s over now, so what we should do is just agree to move on from here. I can give you enough money to start a new life. I can give it to you right now, as much as you want.”
Cody looked at Dax. Dax looked at the clock on the wall. They didn’t have time to dick around taking Johnny’s money before they went. They had less than fifteen minutes to get out of there before the alarms were triggered. “I don’t want your money,” Cody said. “That money is blood money. It came from families struggling to survive. It took food out of kids’ mouths and maybe even put some of them out on the streets…or worse. They can bury you with all that money for all I care, Johnny.” Johnny opened his mouth again, but Cody didn’t give him a chance to speak. Instead he grabbed him by the collar and brought him out of the chair to his feet and then he punched him in the face and sent him flying back into the wall. Johnny hit the wall and slid down to the floor. His mouth was bleeding and when Cody took another step toward him he sank down, trying to make himself a smaller target. Cody reached down and took hold of his suit jacket with both hands. He slid his back up the wall and held him there long enough for Johnny to piss his pants, thinking about what was coming. But instead of hitting him again Cody said, “The girls, Johnny. Who knows where the girls are that you take? Who knows where this man can find his sixteen-year-old niece? You tell me that, Johnny, and I won’t beat you to death the way I did the man that you sent to kill my brother.”
Cody could feel Johnny shaking, and when he started talking his voice was shaky and filled with fear. “My business manager, Jeff Stout. I can call him. He can find out where she is. He’ll get you money too, lots of it. Please…”
“Jeff Stout? He’ll know where these girls are taken, you’re sure?”
“Yes. He knows. He’s the only one that knows.”
“And where is Jeff’s office?”
“He works out of the casino in Atlantic City. There’s a gentleman’s club there that we provide the entertainment for…”
“Okay, Johnny.” Cody let him slide down until his feet touched the floor and then he let go of him and started to turn away.
“I’ll call Jeff right now.”
Cody ignored him but as soon as he turned away he looked at Chapo and said, “Now he’s all yours.” Cody kept walking and before he reached the door, the room exploded with the sound of the automatic rifle as Chapo used it to fill Johnny with so many holes he’d never be able to be put back together. Cody could feel the tension draining from his body, but he realized that it wasn’t because Johnny was dead. It was because Johnny had to hear about Keller and what a good man he was, right before he died. Cody hoped that Keller was his last thought, and he hoped that if there really were a heaven and hell that Johnny would have to spend eternity, as he burned in hell, with Keller’s name on his mind.
He hoped that Chapo could find that Jeff Stout and he hoped that he found his niece, but for him, this was over and he already felt pounds lighter because of it.
42
“That’s a good picture of Liam.” Gordo was sitting at the kitchen table eating biscuits and gravy that Tank had made for him and looking at the morning paper. Cody looked over the fat man’s shoulder and saw the picture he was looking at, and beneath it, the article about the arrest of the leader of the Irish Mayhem and six of his crew.
“For a mug shot, I guess it’s okay. Mine looked a hell of a lot better,” Cody said.
Gordo laughed and his belly shook. “I’ll just bet it did, kid. You’re so pretty I’ll bet those boys in prison loved you.”
Cody started sweeping the floor. With a grin, he said, “A few of them tried, but I’m saving myself.”
Gordo laughed again. “Who you saving yourself for, kid?”
“Your mother, Gordo. We’re going to run away together. I’ll be your stepfather and you’ll have to call me daddy.”
Gordo picked up a biscuit off his plate and tossed it at Cody, striking him in the side of the face. Cody just laughed and swept it up when it hit the floor. “So I just have one question,” Tank said from his spot over at the stove.
“What’s that, Tank?”
“Do you feel better? Even though you weren’t the one that killed Johnny, do you feel better knowing he’s dead?”
“Yeah, I do. He was evil and he hurt a lot of people. Where he’s at, he can’t hurt anyone again. And his crew won’t be able to either, since the government froze all his assets and is shutting down his clubs.”
“So, I heard a rumor that his business manager was found in pieces, in a 50-gallon tub on the side of the road in Jersey City.”
“You don’t say?” Cody suppressed his smile. Dax had to
ld him a few days prior that Chapo and his men found one of the camps that Johnny’s people sent the girls they took off the streets to be “trained.” Chapo’s niece, Amber, was found in the camp. She was drugged and confused, but after a few days in the hospital with rest and hydration, it looked like she was going to be okay, at least physically. It might take her years to get over the trauma of being taken and used, or she might never get over it. But she was alive and home where she belonged, and that was a huge step. How Chapo and his crew found out where to find her and the other girls and how Jeff Stout ended up dead in a 50-gallon bucket on the side of the road was none of Cody’s business. He didn’t want to know.
“Hey, prospect!” He looked up as Harley came through the back door. He was surprised to see her. She was taking one of her finals that morning, a big one.
“Hey, beautiful, what are you doing out here? I thought you had a big test today.”
“I took it already.”
Cody looked at the clock. It was only nine-thirty a.m. “Damn, you’re quick.”
“I prefer when you call me brilliant,” she said. “It was on the computer and it shuts off when you get enough right to pass or enough wrong to fail.”
“Does it tell you if you passed or failed right away?”
“Yep, but I didn’t wait around to see. I wanted to see you…”
“You’re kidding, right?”
She laughed. “Yes, I’m kidding. I passed. Angel passed hers too. We get to intern together this fall.”
“That’s awesome, baby! I’m so proud of you.” Cody took her into his arms and kissed her. The kiss went from a soft, sweet one to hot and passionate in seconds. He hadn’t had her in over a week and there were times when he felt like he’d die from horniness.
“Hey! This is a family place,” Tank said, “Get a room.”
“I’ll get the hose,” Gordo said.
Cody finally pulled out of the kiss, reluctantly. “You two old fat guys are just jealous.”