What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 3)

by Lauren Hawkeye

  And he was a member of a gang. Well, almost. He looked at the prison-made knife in his hand, twirling it around, running his thumb over the edge of the blade, wondering how it had all come to this.

  He had a pregnant girlfriend on the outside, and he’d been supporting them both with his job in a supermarket. There had even been talk of him being management material. The idea had excited him, perhaps he could work his way up, and one day become the manager of the produce department, or frozen goods. But that had fallen apart.

  With Carlos inside his girlfriend was now facing eviction. And then the gang had come to him. How could he say no? He’d earn some money and be under their protection. And if that wasn’t enough? Well, if he turned them down they’d hinted that he’d be raped. Raped and maimed. Juanita too. My cousin loves pregnant bitches hombre, he’ll turn her up real good. He shuddered at the memory of the whispered threats.

  So, it was an easy choice. And now there he was, twirling the shiv around, waiting for the corrupt guard to come and lead him to the showers. After everyone else. After everyone else except his victim, that is. After he did the deed he’d slip away, in with all the other inmates. He’d never be investigated or prosecuted. It would be a perpetrator-less crime. Maybe even written up as a suicide. And his rent would be paid, and he’d have protection. An easy choice to make.

  The guards came and took the prisoners away in groups to the showers. Unlike the old days, you no longer had to shower in a giant room with twenty other people. The prison had been partially refurbished and now showers were taken in rooms with just four to eight shower heads, each one separated by a chest-height divider giving a semblance of privacy.

  When they came for Carlos everyone else was done. He walked down the hallway clad in the rough pants issued by the prison and cheap plastic flip-flops. His tattoo-free chest was bare and his nipples were hard like rocks. It was cold. It was always cold in there.

  “Hurry up,” said the guard, his sour breath causing an involuntary shudder to run down Carlos’ spine. He could see the excitement in the guard’s eyes. He knew what was going to happen.

  Carlos held the shiv tightly in his hands, hidden under his towel, as he entered the shower room. The guard waited by the doorway, his eyes shining and breath quick.

  There was only one other occupant. Just like they’d said. He was at the far end in the fourth stall, standing under the shower head letting the water sluice down over his long silver hair.

  The man glanced at him. Carlos gulped, beginning to lose his nerve. He turned away to face the bench which ran across the room behind the shower stalls. At the far end was the other occupant’s prison issue pants, balled up on the bench.

  Carlos carefully slid his own pants off, shivering as he did so. He clutched the shiv tightly in his hands and went and stood under a shower head, pressing a button to make the water flow.

  Just a minute, he thought. Just one minute of hot water, then he’d do it. He’d take the shiv and thrust it into the neck of the biker at the end. If he’d just walked over there right away he would have been noticed. But now the biker could see he was just having a normal shower, like him. He wasn’t paying attention to Carlos.

  He decided he’d wait for the water to stop. Then he’d press the shower button again, and he’d do it. He’d sneak up behind the big man and stab him in the neck. Then he’d run the shiv under the water, drop it next to the fallen big man, and be out before the biker had even stopped gurgling. Then the guard would take him back to his cell and Juanita would be safe.

  Adrenaline surged through him. The water stopped. He slowly pushed the button back in. The water started again. He glanced to the left. The biker stared down oblivious, his hair hiding his face.

  Carlos took a quiet step backward. Slick and wet and naked he held the shiv tight as he sneaked up behind Bigfella to end his existence in this world. I’d do anything for you, Juanita.

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Nicole

  I sat on the bed with Lucy, a bottle of wine propped up between our thighs and a glass in each hand.

  “You must think I’m crazy, huh? I only knew him a week.”

  I stroked her cheek gently as she sniffled, most of her crying done. “You’re not crazy hon, most people would be even more of a wreck than you.”

  She took a sip from her glass. “I’ve been thinking. Maybe I should, y’know, tone it down a bit.”

  Yeah you probably should. “What do you mean?”

  She took another sip. “I mean, I’ve been acting pretty wild, right? Maybe I should,” she paused, as if she was slowly thinking through her thoughts as she spoke, “keep to the college? The club… maybe that’s too much for us.”

  Uh oh. “Jase said it’s not usually like that. We got there at a bad time.”

  “But we’re college girls, Nicole. We should be dating jocks and geeks and studying and stuff.”

  Don’t you dare. I only just met Jase. “But we also have to live a little,” I grimaced as I remembered Sunday morning, “and experience the real world.”

  Lucy gave a little laugh. “I guess he really got to you, huh?”

  It’s that obvious? “Maybe a little bit. He’s a nice guy. And anyway, I think he needs someone. He’d known Brodie forever.”

  “I only knew him a week and I’m a mess. I can’t imagine what Jase is going through.”

  And where is he? He could have called at least. “Why don’t you just take it easy for a bit. See how you feel. And we should go to the wake, at least.”

  Lucy sighed. “I guess.” She pulled the bottle out from between our pajama-clad legs and refilled both our glasses. The wine gave a cheerful glugging sound as it filled the glasses, oblivious to our muted mood.

  “Cheers,” she said a little too loudly, clinking our glasses together.

  “Cheers.”

  I don’t know whether it was the sound of our clinking and our toast, or just bad timing, but like a broken old mechanical alarm that interrupts you at any time of the day or night a familiar knocking started hammering at the door.

  “Yoo-hoo! It’s me-ee o-pen uh-up!”

  I let out an exasperated sigh. “You know she just wants to steal our wine.”

  Lucy giggled. The idea of Belinda actually drinking wine was ridiculous. But I’d bet anything that somehow she’d heard our glasses and knew what we were up to.

  Lucy wiped her eyes. “I’m not in the mood for her shit today.”

  Before I could answer Belinda or get up, Lucy was already in action. She jumped off the bed and placed her glass and the bottle behind the door, so they couldn’t be seen unless Belinda actually entered the room and then turned around. Which wouldn’t have surprised me.

  My eyes went wide and I breathed in sharply at what Lucy did next. I raised my free hand to cover my mouth as I watched her. So much for not being a wild girl.

  In record time Lucy pulled off her pajamas and tossed them next to the wine. I placed my glass to my side so it was hidden by my body and watched as my stark naked friend opened the door fully, and with one hand on her hip spoke as if nothing was out of the ordinary, “Yes? We were just going to bed.” She raised her eyebrows as she said it.

  For the first time ever I saw Belinda lost for words. Her face beet red, she stammered out something that might have been “Nothing”, but could have been almost anything else.

  Prude.

  Normally we’d have to make small talk with her and drop ever increasing hints to get Belinda to leave. But not this time. For once, it was Belinda herself who reached for the door handle and pulled it closed.

  We heard her run off down the hallway, her weird earrings jingling, before the rapid open and close of her own door. Lucy was bent over giggling.

  “I guess Belinda can’t handle this, huh?” Lucy pushed her breasts up from beneath and pointed them in my direction. My own face was beginning to go a little red too.

  I giggled. “Get dressed.”

  Lucy pulled her pajamas
back on and came back to the bed. We clinked our glasses together again, but much softer this time.

  We sat in a comfortable silence until we were interrupted by the buzzing of my phone. I looked at the screen and was surprised to see that it was registering an incoming call from “Jase”.

  He must have put the number in the other day when I fell asleep.

  By the time I’d hung up the phone I had a little glow of excitement in my stomach. I had been worried he wouldn’t call. But now he had, and he wanted to see me soon.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Bigfella stood under the hot water, waiting. He wasn’t stupid, he knew exactly what was about to happen. Why else would he be taking his shower with just one other prisoner? In his right hand he held the weapon he’d fashioned just minutes before.

  He’d taken his large block of soap, and wrapped it in his towel, twisting the two ends to make a crude weapon he could swing. He had held the towel under the water to make it heavier and easier to grip, but not so long as to ruin the soap underneath.

  When his assassin entered Bigfella’s eyes involuntarily flicked over to him. Goddammit, I didn’t mean to look. The young man was Mexican, of course, and he was clutching his balled up towel close to his chest. Got the shiv hidden under there, huh? Good fucking luck with that.

  Bigfella forced his eyes back forward and concentrated on not looking at the other man. If he could maintain a sense of surprise he’d have a much better chance. He let his hair hang low over his eyes, allowing him to glance to the side without being seen.

  When the other man’s water stopped, he guessed it was time. He snuck a glance to the right. The man was gone. Bigfella took a deep breath and turned around violently, praying he had the timing right. Come get some motherfucker.

  The man was there, inches away. How’d you get so close fuckhead. Bigfella yanked his head backwards as the man thrust at his throat with a pathetic looking, but still potentially deadly, knife.

  Once the man had missed his swing he didn’t have a hope of walking out of the room. Bigfella was about twice his weight and strength and even as he moved his head out of the way of the Mexican’s slash he was swinging his arm up and over, and then bringing the towel-wrapped soap down in a whipping swing that connected with the Mexican’s temple in a brutal thud.

  As he began to drop to the floor Bigfella swung again, this time connecting with his attacker’s cheek. The quiet sound of his body hitting the floor was drowned out by the still running water.

  Bigfella rose and swung again. The water had stopped now. Again and again he swung his makeshift weapon, each blow connecting with a sickening thud as it slammed into the unmoving man on the floor. The water on the floor and gurgling down the drain turned pink and then red. Bigfella’s soap disintegrated from the water and the blows.

  Panting, Bigfella spat onto the remains of the face on the body in front of him and threw down his towel in disgust. Laboring over his breath he reached down to his cock and then aimed a stream of hot piss onto the body in front of him.

  The reek of urine and blood mixed with steam and cheap soap filled the room. No one had come in yet. Bigfella sighed and walked down to the first stall. He pushed the button to start the water flowing and began to clean off the splatters of blood that flecked his face and body and covered his feet.

  Chapter Thirty

  Jase

  The mood was somber in the clubhouse. Usually a new member joining was a much happier occasion. The recent events and the pressing issue of revenge meant that today’s ceremony had a much darker feel.

  Jase and the Doctor spoke together, “Say the oath.”

  Gauge stood at the front of the room while everyone else stared on. He covered his heart with his right hand. “I swear to be a brother for life. I swear to put the club before myself. I swear to …”

  When he’d finished reciting the words there was silence around the table. Then Jase spoke, “Congratulations brother.”

  “Congratulations … Welcome … Good to see you…” Congratulatory words were spoken by all around the table. Jase felt a modicum of pride as he watched Gauge accepted into the club. He, more than anyone, had pushed to welcome Gauge since he’d arrived in town, and suggested he be accepted as a hang-around and then a prospect, and now, finally a full member of the Sons of Mayhem.

  “It’s an honor. Thank you. Finally, I have a family again. The ugliest goddamn family I’ve ever seen, but a family.”

  Jase tensed for a moment, but was relieved when the room erupted in laughter. They could have been offended instead.

  “My mother said I was beautiful!” Lonnie joked.

  “That’s what she said to me last night,” shouted Bottle and T-Bone in unison, before erupting in guffaws.

  When the room was beginning to quiet down again the Doctor banged on the table a few times until there was silence. “Sorry to spoil the happy occasion.”

  The laughter quietened down as they all remembered what had happened to Gauge’s immediate predecessor.

  “Usually there’d be a party now. Bitches, whisky, you know how we do. But as you know, we’re on lock-down and we have a serious fucking situation.” His eyes turned to Gauge. “That’s why you’ve been brought up so quickly. So instead of welcoming you with a party, we’re gonna welcome you with a meeting which will decide the future of our club.”

  Jase caught Gauge’s eye. “You can sit down there.” He pointed to the far end of the table where there were a couple of empty chairs. They exchanged a nod of the head as Gauge passed by to sit in what would be his new spot, down the end next to Eag.

  The mood was dark for the next half hour of the meeting. They told Gauge everything they knew about the Mexicans, where they met, the businesses they were involved in and anything else they deemed relevant.

  “And how soon do you want to do this?”

  “Yesterday,” said Jase. There were murmurs of agreement around the table before all eyes returned to Gauge. Usually when a new member joined they were silent for their first meeting or two and often the subject of teasing. But with Gauge and the current situation it was different. There was something about Gauge’s presence – Jase suspected that even if they weren’t planning a war he’d be teased a lot less than most. His serious demeanor and the way he carried himself didn’t lend him to good natured teasing.

  All eyes were on the new member as he spoke, his deep voice carrying weight that belied his short time as a member. “We can do this. The thing about these kinds of gangs is they don’t know what the hell they’re doing. They’ll spray a person with bullets while driving by in a car, but they can’t protect or assault a location. I can. We can. But we’re going to have to know exactly what we’re doing.”

  Jase felt a burning sense of pride inside him. That’s my boy, Gauge. “So what are we gonna do?”

  “I need to go have a look for myself. You said that anyone who’s anyone tends to get together in the leader’s house on a Saturday night. That’s when we’re going to have to strike. I’m going to scout out the situation before then and plan our assault.”

  “This Saturday?” asked Bottle, “That’s when we’re having the wake.”

  There were murmurs around the table.

  “Exactly. They won’t be expecting us then.”

  The Doctor spoke next. “I think they won’t be expecting us anyway. I made a truce with them.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “I told them we were even. Fucking idiots bought it. They won’t be expecting us.”

  Jase frowned. Why the hell was he meeting with the Mexicans? But if it was true, it’d give them an extra element of surprise.

  The excitement building was palpable. Until T-Bone spoke. “Are we sure this is a good idea? Isn’t there another way? Shouldn’t we wait until Bigfella is back?”

  There were angry mutters around the table. “I spoke to Bigfella, he told us to do it.”

  T-Bone looked surprised. “He said that?”

  �
��Not in so many words – we were in the visitor’s room – but yeah.”

  The big man slumped, looking a little dejected. “I guess that’s that then.”

  Jase looked around the table, “Anyone else?”

  “Nope … Let’s do this … Kill ’em all… Let’s burst some burritos.”

  Gauge’s gravelly voice once again caused all eyed to turn to him. “What weapons do we have?”

  The eyes shifted to Jase. He ran their security wing. “Shotguns with baton shells and regular. Some handguns. Some of the boys have rifles.”

  “If we’re going to do this right, we’re going to need something heavier.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like AK-47s, M16s, SA-80s…”

  “So, military shit?”

  Gauge raised his eyebrows. He didn’t seem to like the term military shit. “Some military equipment. I can improvise a few things, but we’re gonna need a few fully automatic rifles for what I have in mind.”

  “Well shit.”

  All eyes turned on Jase. Where the fuck am I going to get that. “Is there another way?”

  Gauge shrugged. “Depends on whether we want to live or not.”

  Dark laughter whispered softly across the table.

  For the first time in a while the Doctor spoke up again, “Give me and Jase a minute.”

  “Is this really the time for an intimate moment?” asked Lonnie. Doesn’t he fuckin’ know when jokes are appropriate? No one laughed. Jase watched as the embarrassed Englishman and the rest of the men filed out.

  What the fuck now?

  “Jase, I got some more bad news just before we started. I didn’t want to ruin the mood before Gauge’s induction, everyone was already fucked off without this extra shit on top. It’s about Bigfella.”

  A chill shot down Jase’s spine. “Is he okay?”

  “After you saw him today he was taken for a shower. Late. On his own.”