What Doesn't Destroy Us

by M. N. Forgy

  “I think what Shadow’s trying to say is, you’re not wearing a cut. You’re not patched in. Meaning you don’t appear to be claimed, so you look like free reign. Girls who wear cuts that say they are property are not fucked with. You don’t have one, so you look like a sweetbutt.”

  He points toward a woman standing a little ways off. “See her? Her cut says Property of Tank. Nobody will try to sleep or fuck with her unless they want the entire club up their ass. She’s an Ol' Lady.“

  Then he points to the girl on his arm. “She doesn’t have a cut, so men will be all over her looking for a good time. Most likely she will give it to them. She’s a sweetbutt.”

  The girl slaps Bobby’s shoulder in disgust. “You’re a dick,” she says and angrily walks off.

  Bobby shrugs. “Sad thing is, she’ll be sucking my dick before the night's over.” He smiles smugly.

  Bobby smacks Shadow's back. “Good luck, man.” He starts to walk off before turning back, “I almost forgot, now that you're back, Bull's wanting to hold church.”

  “I would have explained it, but you got all offended and freaked the fuck out before I could,” Shadow says, grabbing my hand and walking me toward the club.

  As we get closer, I see more of the Ol’ Ladies and their cuts claiming who they belong to. Why don’t I have one; I’m Shadow's Ol' Lady, right? Do I even want one? Shadow telling me I’m his behind closed doors is one thing, but to tell the whole world I'm property to be claimed seems a little fucked up.

  When we walk into the clubhouse, I smell less BBQ and more cigarettes, cheap perfume, and booze. I can barely hear myself think over the loud music blaring and I'm squeezing Shadow's hand so tight I can feel my heartbeat pulsing through my fingertips.

  Shadow leans down close to my ear and still has to yell, “I got church. Go into the kitchen and help Babs. Don’t leave without her to go anywhere.” I nod my head and start toward the kitchen. Then he pulls me back by my elbow, halting me. “I mean it, don’t leave without her.”

  I nod again and head off to the kitchen. When I enter, there are a handful of women wearing cuts with property patches. They're laughing about something, but stop abruptly when they see me.

  One woman narrows her eyes at me and says, “Bitches get younger and younger, I swear.” Then she rolls her eyes.

  “You can leave the way you came in,” she says, turning her back as if I’m garbage needing to be taken out.

  Babs scoffs and looks toward whom the woman is referring; me. Her eyes light up. “This is Dani, Bull's daughter. She ain’t fucking your man, calm down.” Babs eyes the lady.

  Her eyes go wide and her face suddenly pales. “Oh, shit,” she says, smirking. “My bad.”

  “Dumb ass,” Babs says, snickering at her.

  Maybe I need one of those damn patches after all. I have been here all of five minutes and have been mistaken for club ass more than I care for.

  “Dani, this is Cherry, Molly, Pepper, and Vera,” Babs says, pointing to each girl with a carving knife. They all have on cuts with property patches and look friendly; all but Vera.

  Cherry is a strawberry blond, maybe a little older than myself, with blue eyes. She smiles and looks like she has a bubbly attitude.

  Molly is a brunette with brown eyes who has to be in her fifties. She is a little more on the chunky side than the others.

  Pepper has black hair with little specks of gray all over. She is obviously the oldest, but her green eyes make her look fierce and wise.

  Then there is Vera. She looks to be in her thirties with reddish brown hair and the brightest red lipstick you can imagine. She looks like a total bitch.

  “Hi, nice to meet you all,” I say politely to the girls.

  “Do you need any help, Babs? “ I ask, ignoring the girls now as they're sizing me up.

  “Nah, I think we about have it covered. Think we are all about to head out to the bike show as soon as the boys are done with church,” she says, throwing the knife in the sink.

  “You should be careful, not being patched in and all,” Vera says, leaning against the counter. Her voice sounds condescending, sending red flags off in my mind. Top that with the look she is giving me and I want to stab her with Babs' knife.

  “She’s Bull's daughter, nobody would be stupid enough to fuck with her,” Pepper says, lighting a cigarette.

  “Yeah, but she’s not from around here. She might as well be a civilian; anyone would think she’s a whore,” Vera says, eyeing me. “I did.”

  They are talking as if I'm not even in the room. What the hell?

  I look right back at her, my pulse racing. My dad wouldn’t appreciate me starting a fight after being back five minutes, but if I don’t stand up for myself she will never respect me. Respect seems to be a high priority around here and I've gotta earn it.

  “With that whorish lipstick you're wearing, someone could think the same about you,” I say, pursing my lips.

  Babs starts laughing along with the other ladies.

  Vera smirks at my remark, cocking her head to the side. “Feisty. I like you already.” Her smirk turns into a grin.

  The kitchen doors are thrown open and a guy walks in; he looks familiar. He’s wearing a black bandanna and has a black beard that's braided. I look at his cut in search of his name and see it says ‘Old Man’. Then it hits me like lightening; he’s the guy that hit on me the night I helped bartend.

  “Hey, ladies, we’re heading out. Pack up your shit and let's ride,” he says, pulling Vera into his side. She must be his Ol’ Lady, the way they start kissing. The way he talked to me that night didn’t give me the impression that he had an Ol’ Lady. I pray he doesn’t recognize me; that could worsen things between Vera and I.

  Vera starts kissing his neck. He turns his face to let her into the crook of his neck and notices me. He grins wolfishly and winks at me. Shit, he recognizes me.

  With that, I turn to find Shadow. As soon as I open the kitchen doors, there he is.

  “Ready?” he asks, pulling me into his arms.

  I nod and grab his hand, heading for the door. He leads me into the chapel instead. “What are you doing?” I ask, confused.

  He goes over to a chair at the end of the table and pulls up my leather jacket.

  “I’ve been looking for that!” I yell, trying to grab it, but he pulls it from my reach.

  “Wait, look,” he says, holding it back up.

  I look at it, but I don’t notice anything different. Then he turns it so I’m looking at the back. I’m stunned at what I see.

  It has patches; one that says 'PROPERTY OF SHADOW', and another of the Devil's Dust symbol.

  I don't know what to say. At first, I thought wearing something so branding in public was ridiculous; like a dog with a dog tag. But after seeing the patches, and feeling the disrespect in the club of not having them, I want it more than anything.

  Shadow slides it onto my arms and pulls me into him.

  “Now you're mine and everybody will know it,” he says, making me gasp with excitement.

  I bite his bottom lip and whimper at the love and lust vibrating through my body, making Shadow chuckle.

  “Let’s go or we’ll never make it to the show.” He turns me toward the door.

  When we reach Shadow's bike, Bobby starts clapping and everyone jumps in. I turn cherry red as I hear cat calls, and everyone congratulating Shadow. You would think I'd gotten married with all the excitement in the air. I feel respected as I get nods and smiles from other Ol’ Ladies.

  “'Bout time, brother,” Bobby says with a face-splitting grin. I look over at my dad. He is not clapping and doesn't look happy.

  “Yeah, fuck you,” Shadow says to Bobby, with a matching face-splitting grin.

  Everyone’s bikes start up after Bull first starts his. The loud, thunderous sound of motors fills my ears. My whole body vibrates with the freedom.

  Bull pulls off and everyone follows.

  -------------------------------------<
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  The bike show is held along the beach and zigzags up through the adjoining streets. There are street bikes everywhere and trucks hauling custom bikes pulling into parking spots. I can smell leather and exhaust before we even come to a stop.

  I climb off the bike and wait for Shadow's next move. I look around at my surroundings and see a lot of rugged men wearing leather cuts from Devil's, Silver Bullets, Ghosts and more. Off to the side of the road, I see an ambulance and about a dozen cop cars and black SUV’s; ready at a moment’s notice.

  Shadow grabs my hand. “Ready?” he asks. I nod and we follow the others.

  As we get closer to the action, I can hear Nickleback playing and can slightly smell chicken, but the leather and exhaust smells are stronger. We pass a lot of different bikes; most custom with half-naked chicks posing beside them. There are some people who aren’t wearing cuts, but not a lot; they seem to dart out of our way when they see us. It makes me feel powerful. I love it.

  “Want a drink?” Shadow points at a trailer with kegs on it.

  “Yeah,” I reply.

  We walk over with Bobby to get our beers. They start talking about air intakes, fat tires, and more bike talk I don’t understand.

  After about an hour of walking around looking at bikes, and the beer Shadow got me, I’m about to piss myself. I look out for a bathroom but only spot port-a-potties a few blocks over. Shit.

  The guys stop and start looking at more bikes. I look over and start eyeing a metallic green one that looks like a dragon. It’s amazing what people can do with these things; the engine has a plate over it that looks like wings coming off the dragon and the wheel in the back is huge.

  “Looks like Shadow patched you in,” a voice rings off behind me. I stand and see Chelsea and Candy, both standing with their arms crossed, looking as slutty as ever.

  I look around, but Shadow isn’t near.

  “Yep, sorry, ladies,” I say, trying to walk off, but Chelsea grabs my elbow.

  “Unless you want to look like her,” I nod toward Candy’s broken nose, “you better let me the fuck go.” My voice is threatening and dripping venom. My brutal anger still surprises me. I am definitely not the same girl I was in New York.

  Chelsea laughs. “You better enjoy it, hunny. It won’t last long,” she says, nodding toward my cut. They both smirk and walk off, leaving me angry as hell.

  I stand on my tiptoes and see Shadow two bikes over. I make my way through the crowd and spot him talking with some biker bimbo. She has blond pigtails and is dressed in purple to match the bike she's posing with. A purple bra, purple thong, and purple fishnets are topped off by knee-high purple boots. She runs her hand down Shadow's chest cooing something at him, but he just leans his head to the side, and smiles.

  I walk over to him and clear my throat. The girl eyes me with disgust.

  Already angry from Chelsea and Candy, I want nothing more than to break her nose with my fist, but I really am about to piss myself.

  “I gotta pee.” I yell at him over the music and idle chit chat around us.

  I walk off toward the bathrooms, not being able to hold it much longer.

  “Dani, you can’t get jealous every time a girl looks at me,” he says, walking quickly behind me.

  “Fuck you,” I spit back, walking in-between box trailers.

  Shadow grabs my arm and yanks me to him. “You can’t just run off; it’s not safe.” He throws my back up against a box trailer.

  “What the fuck’s going on?” Bull asks, rounding the trailer.

  “It’s all your fault,” a shaky voice rings out. We look over at the opposite end of the box trailer to see a disgruntled Cassie pointing a gun at us.

  Shadow bolts upright and pushes me behind him when he sees his mother.

  Then Bobby rounds the corner as well. “Hey, I saw you guys run off, everything alri-” Bobby cuts himself off when he sees Cassie.

  “It’s all your fault he’s dead,” she yells, trembling. She’s so unstable her hands shake the gun uncontrollably; her finger is pressed tightly against the trigger, making me uncomfortable.

  “I never should have taken the deal, I knew it. But I thought I could get that bitch to talk... and then Ricky... and blood…” she starts rambling and not making any sense.

  Suddenly bodies surround the other side of the box trailer; men wearing cuts with crazy eyes.

  “Well, well, well,” one of them says, his head shaved.

  “El Locos,” Bobby breathes.

  I remember them; they were the ones that were responsible for the drive-by shooting at the safe house. How could I forget them?

  Cassie turns at the sound, pointing the gun at the El Locos, but only briefly before turning back to us.

  She points the gun at me crying, “sorry.” She drops her head and cocks the trigger.

  A loud boom goes off, making me scream. I close my eyes and wait for the pain, but nothing comes. When I open my eyes, Cassie is in a state of pure shock. Her mouth gapes open and blood begins to pool at her chest. She drops the gun and falls to her knees, gasping for air.

  “FBI, GET ON THE GROUND NOW!”

  I look around and see a swarm of people in black gear surround the box trailers with guns pointing at us.

  Shadow pushes me down hard and my head smacks against the ground. My heart is thumping so hard I can feel it pulsing in my fingertips. I look out under the box trailer and see black boots running away on the other side. When the person is off a distance, I can see it’s Bobby with a gun in his hand. Did he shoot Cassie?

  “Look at me,” Shadow whispers. Emerald green meets stormy blue as our eyes lock.

  “Shit, they shot the Criminal Informant,” I hear a familiar voice say. I look up and my blood drains from my body; my heart stops beating and I can feel my face pale.

  It’s Stevin, wearing a blue wind breaker that says FBI.

  One of the El Locos gets off the ground and walks toward Stevin. “Man, if I knew she was going to do that, I would have tackled her,” he says.

  ‘You fucking traitor,” another of the El Locos shouts out.

  “You see who shot her?” Stevin asks.

  “No, one of them though,” he says, pointing toward us.

  “They did what?” I hear a familiar voice say, coming around a box trailer beside us.

  My mother steps next to Stevin; she's also wearing a blue windbreaker that says FBI.

  My world starts spinning; I feel myself hyperventilating.

  Stevin and my mother hear me gasping for air and start walking toward me.

  “Shit,” Stevin mutters.

  My mother bends down and smiles like the devil.

  “Someone get over here; we've got a witness,” my mother yells. Suddenly, I’m lifted off the ground; everything moves in slow motion.

  “Get her in witness protection now,” she says.

  “Say goodbye to Lover Boy,” she whispers in my ear as I’m being pushed away.

  I look over at Shadow, who’s as shocked as I am. Then his shock leaves, replaced with a look of confusion and finally pure betrayal.

  One of the El Locos is an undercover; my mother is an FBI agent; and I look like I am one of them. Shadow's eyes glass over with pure hatred; every little ounce of love replaced with distrust.

  My mother signed my death certificate, making me a possible threat to the club. Shadow kills people like me. Before I can say anything, he turns his head away in disgust and I’m hauled out of sight behind a box trailer.

  TO BE CONTINUED

  I’m brought to a stereotypical interrogation room. There’s a metal table with a chair opposite of me and a two-sided mirror behind that. There's also a camera in the upper corner; guess they don't want to miss anything. It smells of bleach and coffee in here.

  I look down at the cup holding the brown java. My nails dig into the side making grooves as I try and make sense of everything. Looking back, I wonder how I was so blind. Things make sense now, like my mother resenting me more si
nce she’s been with Stevin. She used me; she knew the club wouldn’t turn her down if she used me as leverage. Making me out to be a rat seals my fate in the eyes of the Club. Shadow’s trust now nothing but a grain of sand in the desert wind.

  I sigh in defeat.

  The door clicks open and in steps a fat-bellied man with a folder. He sits down across from me, splaying out paperwork across the table. His black mustache curves and grooves across his pale skin as he scrunches his lips side to side.

  “Miss Lexington, do you recognize this man,” he asks, pushing a picture across the table. Apparently he's not one for idle chit chat.

  “No,” I say without looking.

  The man sighs. Laying his arms across the paperwork, he folds his hands together. “Miss, this will go a lot easier if you just cooperate.” He wiggles his mustache as if it is tickling his lips.

  “Again, do you recognize this man?” He pushes the picture in my direction.

  I look down and my heart seizes. I take a calming breath at the mugshot of Ricky sitting before me.

  “No,” I say, crossing my arms and looking the other way. “We done?”

  “Really?” he asks, lifting his shoulders. He digs in his folder and pulls out another picture. “Because in this photo, Adrian Kingsmen, also known as Shadow and the Sargent-of-Arms of the Devil's Dust Motorcycle Club, is carrying you out of that man’s house.”

  My eyes widen at the picture shoved in my direction, displaying my lies in black and white.

  “You want to try ag-“

  Knocks sound from the other side of the tinted glass, cutting off Mr. Mustache.

  The door is flung open and my mother steps in.

  “Why didn’t I know about this?” she asks, pointing at the picture.

  “Sadie, you weren’t given clearance on this. You were too close to the case and taken off. You need to go back into the other room now.” The guy calmly points at the door.

  My mother huffs, eyeballs me and steps out of the room.

  “Now, where were we?” the man asks as he shuffles his fat belly into the metal chair.

  “This man?” he asks, pointing at Ricky’s photo.