by Carmen Faye
After their tests, Shayla still came up with fifty percent, and Sydney was only a little bit higher.
Shayla eyed Neil. “Want another beer? We’re going to have to call Anton on this. It might take a while. Sorry.”
Neil sat on the couch. “Do what you need to do, I got time.”
“Thanks,” Sydney told him, and watched Shayla call Anton and put her phone into speaker mode.
“Yeah?”
“Anton? This is Shayla.”
“Hey, how you doing?”
“Not so good Anton. This stuff is crap, and on top of that, it’s short.”
“What do you mean, it’s crap?”
“It’s only fifty percent, and the other is barely above sixty.”
“Well, we didn’t touch it after delivery, sweet cakes. That’s the way it came,” Anton said with a smile in his voice.
“And that’s not our problem. Our problem is that we’re paying top dollar—”
“You’re not paying top dol—”
“Anton! Cut the crap, alright? We’ve been doing this for nearly two years. We’re not wide-eyed party pussies. Jacques told us, up front, that we were paying top dollar. Then he told us why, and one of those reasons is that we would always get a full kilo, and it would always be eighty percent or higher. So, no, it is not our problem, and no, we are not buying it.”
Anton was silent on the line for quite a while before he said, “Alright, I’ll give you a discount.”
“No,” Sydney told him. “No, that isn’t good enough. We have clients that we have to answer to. Fifty percent is crap. No discount is worth giving this shit to our clients. Alright? We don’t even want it for free.”
“Bottom line, Anton,” Shayla picked up, “Is that we either get what we are paying for, or we quit. That’s it.”
“You quit? You mean you go to someone else?” Anton said, his voice carrying a threatening tone.
“No, I mean we just quit. We sell our list and stop. Go back to school,” Shayla clarified. “Fuck this shit. Yes, there are like twenty people in my Rolodex I could call and get kilos from, but it’s not worth the hassle or the risk. So, here’s the deal. We’ll buy three tomorrow if they weigh out and are good quality.”
“I’ll have Neil bring them by tonight, about nine,” Anton told them at last.
Sydney looked to Neil and gave him a smile. “No, that won’t work. We have plans tonight. Tomorrow, same time, and we’re sending this shit back to you.”
“Yeah fine, whatever,” Anton said, and broke the connection.
Neil came over to their kitchen table and looked over the test results. “Would you have talked to Jacques that way?” he asked.
“We would never have a reason to talk to Jacques that way,” Shayla replied.
Neil nodded and looked into their eyes. “You both look really good today.” Then he packed up the kilos and turned to head for the door.
“Neil?” Shayla asked.
“Yes?” he answered, turning back around.
“We really aren’t just party pussies, Neil,” Sydney said. “This isn’t what we want to do forever.”
“We want a life and someone special in it,” Shayla added. Then she walked up to him and lifted up on her toes to kiss him softly but luxuriantly on his lips.
Sydney followed suit, pouring all the emotion she felt for him into her short, soft kiss. “You’re still picking us up tonight, right?”
Neil looked from one to the other thoughtfully. “Yes. Be ready at eight-thirty.”
“We will be,” Shayla replied.
“We won’t make you late,” Sydney assured him.
He searched their eyes, and Sydney felt like he was a man looking into his woman’s eyes. There was a warmth in his gaze.
Then he walked to the door, and without realizing it she was following him, wanting more of that moment. The door closed behind him and she leaned her back against it, and found Shayla beside her.
“Fuck, we are so screwed,” Shayla breathed.
“You know, Shay? I’m twenty-four years old and that was the first time I really felt like a woman.”
Shayla took her into her arms and kissed her. “I know exactly what you mean. Let’s get this cleaned up and put out a broad-band text that we are out until tomorrow, and then—”
“Have a long bath together?” Sydney inserted with a hopeful tone.
“We could do that,” Shayla said with a nod. “And then maybe we could spend some quality time with each other. But then we need to get serious again and plan out our exit. After that talk with Anton, I’m sure he expected us to just take it. He is definitely no Jacques.”
“I didn’t like the way he sounded when he thought we would go with someone else,” Sydney admitted.
“Yeah, I caught that too, and I didn’t like the sound of it either. Also, Neil’s insights were disturbing. I don’t think he’s a man who says things like that lightly. So we need to be sure of our moves, not take any crap, and avoid any flack,” Shayla told her as they began to clean up the room.
CHAPTER FOUR
Neil pulled his trike into the parking lot of Raging Bull Tavern, the club bar of the Devil Knights. He took the case out from the compartment under the back seat and headed inside, going directly to the office. After rapping his knuckles on the door, he entered without waiting for a response.
“—And the fucking cunts,” Anton said when he saw the case in Neil’s hand.
Two other cases were on the desk, open, with kilos inside. He placed his beside the other two and waited for his payment.
“What?” Anton asked.
“What do you mean, what?” Neil responded. “Payment on delivery. Right?”
“You didn’t deliver anything,” Anton replied snidely.
“Bullshit. In fact, you owe me for two trips. Both were at-risk deliveries. Just because it is crap, doesn’t mean I go to prison for any less time, Anton. And they aren’t going to say, ‘Oh, sorry, we didn’t know you were taking it back’ either.
Anton studied him. “I’ll pay you for one.”
“Then you’ll get another delivery boy, too.”
“What?”
“There are plenty of guys who want this job. It’s cushy and pays well, right? I think those were your words,” Neil mused.
Anton, who looked like a six-foot Joe Pesci, threwup his hands. “What the fuck is with you people today?”
Neil didn’t bother to answer.
Anton took two envelopes from the stack and handed them to Neil across the desk. Neil took the time to count the money, which raises both of Anton’s eyebrows, but Neil didn’t care at the moment.
As he counted, West, a close friend of his, came in the office with another case. “This is back from the Gomez brothers.”
“They didn’t call me,” Anton objected.
“No, they just said to take it back and then called Leroy.” West informed him, setting the case on the desk.
“What the fuck?!” Anton growled.
Leroy Parker was the leader of the Steel Highwayman, which were the closest thing the Knights had to a rival in this area.
West looked to Neil and nodded. “You too, huh?”
“Yeah,” Neil agreed as he finished counting the second envelope. “Don’t let him cheat you West—two trips.”
“Fucking-A right, two trips. I had a cop sweating me for three fucking miles on the way back here.” West grinned.
Anton didn’t say anything, and just handed West two of the envelopes. “Neil, I got a job for you tonight.”.
“Not interested.”
“What do you mean, not interested? I haven’t even told you what the job is yet,” Anton said irritably.
“Doesn’t matter what it is, I’m not interested,” Neil repeated.
“Are you part of this club or not?”
“I’m a patch holder, not a fucking prospect, Anton. If I’m not interested, then I’m not interested. Or do you expect indentured servitude?” Neil asked.
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“Well fuck you then. And I’m surprised you even know what indentured servitude is,” Anton griped.
Neil didn’t bother to answer. Responding to comments like that only led to hard feelings, or fights. He just opened the door and walked out. As he closed it he heard Anton say, “What the fuck is his problem?”
His problem, Neil thought to himself, was that the club is going to shit, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Anton’s the president, not him.
Niel had just stepped back outside when his cellphone rang. “Yeah?” he said as he answered.
“Hey tall, dark, and brooding. Do I have to arrest you to get some attention?” said Selene Clover. Detective Selene Clover, Miami Vice, Narcotics Division.
“Hey Selene,” Neil replied with a relaxed smile in his voice. “No, that won’t help. I’ve had something come up lately.”
“Does this something have breasts?” Selene asked.
“Four, actually,” Neil agreed.
“Oh, your sisters,” she said a little softer. “How are they doing?”
“I talked to them last night, and this morning before they took off for school. I’m taking them both for a ride on my new trike this Saturday.”
“That sounds like fun, but what’s stopping you from lighting my fire this afternoon, lover?”
“That would be the other thing with four breasts,” Neil explained. “Not sure what is going on there, but it has my attention and I’m going out with them in a few hours. I need to get home and get my guitar. I have a gig tonight with Blu Rayne. Besides, isn’t your husband a judge now?”
“Don’t tell me that scares you,” Selene said.
“Well, not really scares, but certainly concerns. I know he hasn’t been the best to you, but no one takes losing a sweet ass like yours lightly,” Neil told her.
“You seem to be the only one who thinks its sweet,” Selene complained.
“Bullshit. I know you turn heads when you walk down the street and you’re too good of a detective to not notice as well,” Neil retorted as he got on his trike.
“Fine,” she said with exasperation. “I still turn heads. So what? So this thing you got going. Is it going to be long term?”
“I don’t know yet. I really don’t. Not even sure what the hell it is. But you know how I feel about things like this. We’ve been off and on for what—four years now? You know me better than most,” he replied.
“I want to know you a lot better, so I expect a call as soon as this doesn’t work out. They don’t deserve you anyway. Hell, I don’t deserve you,” Selene joked.
“You deserve a lot better than me,” Neil told her, and he started up his trike.
“There is nothing better than you, Neil. Nothing. So, talk to you soon, alright?” she asked.
“Yeah, talk to you soon,” Neil agreed.
CHAPTER FIVE
Shayla looked herself over in the full-length mirror. The pants she chose looked like leather, but were actually a sort of spandex material that breathed nicely. Of course, that meant she was going to freeze on the way home. The heels were four inches and silver, and her top was silver as well. A couple of dangling diamond earrings, and she considered herself ready. Her hair was pulled back in a plait so she could wear a helmet. She nodded, took the earrings back out, and put them in her small purse for later. Helmets had a way of making earrings disappear.
Sydney came in wearing similar clothing, but going for blue rather than silver, and with the same hair braids. They were both showing a bit of cleavage, but not nearly as much as usual. If Neil wanted to see more, all he had to do was ask.
“Why the fuck am I nervous?” Sydney asked her.
“Oh, I don’t know. First date with the man you want to be a forever thing in your life, in a less than normal relationship with your best friend as well? Can’t figure it at all,” Shayla told her teasingly.
“So, you’re nervous too?” Sydney asked.
“I got fucking goose bumps, look.”
“Shit, we’re so fucking screwed. What if he doesn’t like us. I mean, the real us?” Sydney pouted.
“I’ve been wondering—what if he does?” Shayla told her.
“How do you mean?” Syd asked.
“Well, I mean, how the fuck does it work? He can’t marry both of us. It’s not legal,” Shayla explained.
“We’ve barely made first base with him and you’re worried about marriage? Shit, Shay, you’re worse than I am.”
“There’s his bike,” she said, hearing the large engine as it pulled up to their apartment complex. “Let’s get out there.”
They grabbed their purses and hurried outside, locking the deadbolts and waving to him. He stood by his trike, watching them come down the stairs.
“Wow,” he said. “You two really look good tonight. I feel under-dressed.”
“You’re a rocks star, you can’t be under-dressed,” Shayla told him, and gave him a lingering kiss before going around to the right side of the trike and getting on.
“I think you are over-dressed,” Sydney told him before she kissed him deeply. “But that’s just my opinion.”
He paused and studied them for a while, shook his head a little, then got on his trike and backed her up. Soon they were on the road heading for Beats and Drums.
The entertainment had special parking in the back and he pulled his trike into one of the slots and dismounted. Then he reflexively helped Sydney down from her seat and came around to the back where he had his guitar case and gear strapped securely to the chrome luggage rack. Shayla pressed up against him and his arm went around her, his hand smoothing down her side to her hip in such an easy, proprietary manner that she shuddered.
We have to have him tonight. God please let it be tonight. And god help Sydney if we don’t do it with him tonight, Shayla added to herself.
She shifted a little so that his hand slid off her hip and onto her right ass cheek, and then wiggled a little for him while gripping his arm. He searched her eyes and she let him, allowing him to see whatever he wanted.
Yes, she thought as loudly as she could. Yes, please.
With Shayla still in his grasp, he put his cases down on the ground and grabbed Sydney with his left arm as if he had been with her for years; no hesitation, just desire. Sydney actually giggled as she came into his embrace and ran her hand up his chest.
“What are you two up to?” he asked. “Are you trying to get me to pick one of you? Is that the game?”
Shayla turned his head with her hand on his chin. “First off, Neil, this is no game,” she told him as seriously as she could.
“Second,” Sydney continued, “We’ve already chosen for you. We want you to take us both. And like Shay just said, this is no game. We’re both really into you, Neil, and have been for a while. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but we haven’t been with anyone for several weeks now, hoping you would be interested in one of us.”
“But the longer we waited,” Shayla explained, “the more we realized that both of us were seriously into you. Up until now, this has never been an issue. One of us just backed off. Because guys were just guys. But you’re not just a guy, Neil. You’re what we have been waiting for. Someone real.”
He looked from one to the other with serious contemplation. “You sound serious.”
“That’s good,” Sydney told him.
“Yeah, because we’ve never been serious with a man before. I wasn’t even sure we knew how,” Shayla told him.
He looked from one to the other again, and processed this for some time. “Alright, I’m on stage until midnight. We’ll talk about this after. That will give me some time to think this shit out.”
“I hope we didn’t fuck with your mood,” Sydney said, looking suddenly worried.
“No, no, I’m good,” he replied, letting go of them and picking up his cases. “If it helps, since Monday you’ve been seriously appealing—both of you. I’ve been kind of out of it with my dad passing and all, and with all the sh
it going on with the club. So, I apologize if I seemed distant these last few weeks.”
Shayla kissed him and then Sydney followed suit, lingering with her hands on his face. “We’re good. Just as long as you notice us now. That’s all that matters.”
“Let’s get inside then. I still have to set up,” he replied.
They walked with their hands on his arms, all the way to the back door where a large bouncer with steroid-induced muscles and probably pea-sized testicles blocked the door.