by Carmen Faye
Chapter Twenty Four
The excitement of the race sure didn't last. People were watching on the big screens that had been set up around the area. It was all a lot of fanfare and fun for the many, many fans. Speed just didn't get how people could enjoy going to see a live race like that. The cyclists were gone, and now they were basically waiting for someone to win before they could even get a look at any of their favorite riders again. At least with most other sports there was a central area the crowd could gather around to watch. Oh well, he was a fan of anything Darcy loved. And they had everything riding on this race, so to say.
Once the riders had disappeared from the sight of the crowd, he looked around to see if anyone was watching them. He knew his boys were eager to do something other than sit around and wait. "All right, then. Larry and Horace, come with me. The rest of you make sure no one brings any cameras near us or fucks with us in any other way. We're going to take our friend Steve out over there for a little talk.” He nodded his head casually at some trees that were over behind some portable buildings that didn't have the lights on inside. "Horace, go and wait over there for Steve to finish what he's doing. Take him for a walk over there, where me and Larry are going to be waiting. Don't make a scene. Don't let anyone think Steve is being taken against his will. Don't fuck this up."
Horace was a younger member from some backwoods country in Europe. Horace was a crazy fucker, still willing to do stupid shit to prove himself – probably enjoyed it, too, as they all did.
Once Steve had finished some business in the coach area, chatting to people and acting like he was a big shot, he headed away. The second he was away from the main area, Steve started to walk very fast. He was only a little way off from actually running. Speed and Larry could see him leave the coaching area from where they were hiding, but he suddenly disappeared out of sight.
"You think it was a good idea to get Horace to do this? I don't know how much I trust that crazy fucker."
"Don't worry. He's not going to mess this up. And have you seen that Russian fucker with a knife? I'd be shitting myself if he came at me with a bad attitude."
"No you wouldn't," said Larry. He knew Speed too well to think he'd be scared of a younger biker, no matter how crazy the look in their eye was.
"Yeah, you're right. I wouldn't be scared. Steve will be, though. He'll follow him without a fuss. Just take my word for it." They heard some voices from around the corner, coming toward the portable buildings they were waiting behind.
"Just shut the fuck up and do what I told you," came that thick accent. It was Horace, for sure.
"This better be good.I don't have to listen to you." Suddenly Steve came flying by the corner of the building. Well, he didn't exactly fly so much as stumble and then tumble, like a big old pile of bricks. "What the fuck is your problem?!" he cried out with indignation. “That's it kid, you just made a huge mistake." He got up and looked like he was trying to psyche himself up for a fight. He'd definitely lost his fighter's instinct since his days in the military – that is, if he'd even had one to begin with.
"What's my problem?" said Horace as he approached the downed man. "You're the one who's going to have a problem when you turn your stupid head to the left."
"What are you talking about, you…" he was going to say more but saw Speed and Larry sitting there waiting for him. "You," he said with hatred. "I should have known this was all your doing. Who else would get a tattooed dirt bag like this to do their bidding for them?
“Looked like he was going somewhere,” said Horace with a thick accent.
“Where are you off to?” Speed asked.
“I was just taking a piss,” said Steve. He didn’t look worried at all any more. For some reason he'd decided he could speak to Speed however he wanted a long time ago.
"Have you forgotten all about our incident in the mountains that day? You don't seem to take me very seriously, Steve."
"That's because you're just another common thug. Why would anyone take you seriously? The sooner you end up behind bars, the better off the whole world is going to be, especially Darcy. What you've done to that poor girl is disgusting." Steve kept making little motions like he was about to run off. He was probably just testing to see how much attention Horace was paying to his movements.
Every time Steve turned a little or shifted on his feet, the young biker moved a little, as well. It was like he was his shadow. "You're not going anywhere. Stand up straight and look the man in the eye when you talk to him. Stop being so disrespectful."
"I've got this, Horace," said Speed. He liked his men showing initiative, but he didn't want it to look like they were acting all on their own. "That little display of friendship you put on out there before the race, what was that all about?"
"I don't know what you're talking about," said Steve, still darting his eyes around like he was trying to find some hidden escape hatch or something. There were the portable buildings, some trees and shrub that were too thick to move through, and then a fence that would take some time to climb. That is, assuming Steve could actually get over it. He might have had a trick knee or something, with his age.
"You're not going anywhere so I suggest you start telling me what I need to know. And I'll know if you're lying. Don't worry, Steve, I've got you completely worked out." Speed did not have him worked out at all, but he was hoping this would be a successful bluff.
"Fuck off," said Steve. "I know you're doing this to improve your club's reputation with the public. There's no way you'd jeopardize that just to find out why I was talking to your girlfriend. You really that jealous that you'd throw all of that away?
"What was in that bottle of water?"
"Water."
“Knife,” said Speed.
Larry felt around beneath his jacket. He landed his grasp on a few different things, made a face like he'd found what he was after, and then shook his head and continued feeling around.
"Shit, how much stuff have you got hidden on you, Larry?" said Horace.
"I have just the right amount of shit on me, you Russian bastard," said Larry defiantly. He was not into taking lip from any fucking rookies, that was for sure.
"I'm not Russian," said Horace. "You're the fucking Russian. Fuck…" He kept quiet after Larry gave him a death stare.
"Here," Larry said, and he took out a hunting knife, then handed it to Horace.
He touched the tip of the steel with a finger, then ran it lightly along the edge of the blade to inspect how sharp it was. He was satisfied that it was more than sharp enough to do the job. He smiled right at Steve and suddenly the look on the older man's face changed. Still, he tried to put on a brave front and act like he didn't believe they would do him any harm.
"You're full of shit," he said. "Let me go."
“You're free to go," said Speed, "but you need to answer some simple questions first. What’s the deal talking to Darcy? Why now? And what the fuck did you give her?”
“Water!” said Steve. He yelled it, but he sounded like he pleading, please just believe me.
"You don't talk to her for all this time, not since you assaulted her and I had to sort you out."
"I didn't assault anyone."
"You pushed, hard. What the hell is that, then? Were you trying to shake her hand and just plain missed? I wish I wasn't trying to turn our rep around, you know? It would have been a whole lot simpler to just bury you somewhere in those mountains. I'm sure no one would have missed you."
"Aubrey asked me to apologize to her. It felt stupid going over there without at least some reason. I figured offering her some water would be a good segue."
"Do you believe him, Larry?" Speed asked.
"Shit no. Look at his face. Lying piece of shit's up to something. In fact, I'd suggest we should finish up here soon and go make sure everything's going good."
"Yeah, you're right. Okay Horace, find out if he's lying."
Horace had been eagerly waiting for Speed to give him the order. He walked up
to Steve, who put his hands up like he was going to try wrestling or something. But Horace had that menacing blade in his hand, holding it right at Steve's face. He walked toward him until Steve was backed into the side of one of the portable buildings, the one they were using as cover. He started to shake and looked away from Horace and the other two bikers.
"Fuck off," he said petulantly.
Horace then started lightly tracing the knife over Steve’s cheek, not actually breaking the skin yet. "What were you doing with our boss's woman?"
"I told you already."
“Are you willing to go to prison for cutting off someone’s finger, Horace?” asked Speed.
“No fucking worries,” he said happily.
“Steve? You've got about ten seconds to decide how to deal with this. I'm done wasting time and you know I'm serious."
Horace grabbed Steve by his right wrist. "This is going to fucking hurt by God, but it's exciting, no?"
“Okay!" cried out Steve as the knife was moving toward his hand. “It was just a sedative. You’re not the only one who can make money fixing a race. You think we all have to play by the rules, but not you. You make me sick.” He spat on the ground by Speed’s foot, then decided it was a bad idea the second he locked eyes with Speed. The tough older guy suddenly seemed like a kid, but he still didn’t grovel. “…I’m not afraid of you,” he managed to say without completely losing his nerve.
“Yeah, that’s why you just gave yourself away. And I’m guessing that asshole MC president Aubrey was with had something to do with this.”
“So?”
“He’s going to be very happy when he finds out you just ratted on him. Losing a finger might have been the better option, Steve. Let him go, Horace.”
Steve ran off the second he was free. Speed told his guys to lose the knife, and any other illegal items they had on them. “Don’t judge me for what I’m about to do, but I can’t fuck this up for Darcy by getting my hands dirty, not here.”
“We understand,” said Larry. “What are you thinking?”
“Boys…I’m gonna have to go to the cops.”
“Fuck,” said Larry and Horace in unison.
Speed went over to the nearest cop, giving the guy a bit of a fright. He nearly put his hand on the handle of his pistol, but calmed down soon enough. “I’ve just heard directly from the man himself, that Steve Henderson, one of the coaches, has given a rival cyclist a sedative before the race. He’s fixed the race and Darcy’s in danger.”
The cop looked shaken, and unsure about whether this was the truth.
Speed added, “If you’re not going to do anything about it, I have to go help her!”
That’s just what he and the club did. They hopped on their bikes and roared up the canyon after the competing cyclists.
It didn’t take long before they caught up with the cyclists. There was a group of them gathered around two of the riders. They were on the ground beside the road, fighting. Aubrey was throttling Darcy, who was prone and almost motionless under her. The roar of the bikers scattered the other riders, who had been trying to stop Aubrey from her attack. That might have very well saved Darcy’s life, if she was still alive.
Speed jumped off his bike, letting it keep rolling into the side of the canyon. He grabbed Aubrey hard, and shoved her aside. One of his boys held the screaming woman back while she threw insults at both Darcy and Speed.
“You were mine, Speed! That whore is nothing compared to me. I’ll win this race and I’ll get you back!”
That cop had luckily decided to believe Speed, and there was an EMT vehicle close behind them, along with several police cars with very confused looking officers inside them.
In the end, it was lucky it hadn’t turned into some sort of cop and biker standoff. The police had assumed the trouble was caused by The Wild Cards at first, and needed to be convinced before they put their guns away and arrested Aubrey. The other cyclists had helped a lot there, backing Speed’s story.
“Don’t you keep up with the news?” one of the other cyclists, a young man, had asked the cop who was in charge on the scene. “This is a legit biker club; they do good in the community.”
Chapter Twenty Five
She remembered some things while she wasn't completely awake. There were sounds and maybe some lights coming in through the darkness. It was still lonely in there without anyone from the outside world to take her mind off things. Maybe at times she was able to hear voices, like the voice of Speed talking to her. What he was saying, she had no way of knowing. Things were going slowly, too slow, as though the night had drawn down over her life.
An open kind of reflection was possible in that time, without the constant nagging of the conscious world. While Darcy had no idea anything was happening or who she was at that point in time, it was easier to simply exist and things came into place in a brand new way.
She woke up in a hospital room, much to her surprise. The smell of fragrant flowers was the first thing she noticed. It was warming along with the increased light that came into her vision. The sensations were all too much, though, and she wanted to recede back into her cavernous sleep. Wait, something deep inside told her, there's a lot to look forward to if you just give it a chance. Maybe that was right. But before her eyes were even open, she knew there was a lot of pain to get through.
For starters, her eyes were sore, and it took some effort to pry her eyelids apart. "Ow," she mumbled. "My eyes are glued shut."
"Take it easy.”
"Speed?" she said to the empty space around her. It wasn't necessarily empty. Darcy just couldn't see what was there. Finally, she ripped her eyes open and blinked profusely to try and get away from that aching, sticky feeling that was in them. "Oh, hey…"
Speed moved closer to her. He had been there after all. "You have no idea how good it is to see you awake, beautiful. How do you feel?" he sounded like he might have been crying at some point, but that was such an absurd image.
"I'm in the hospital? What happened? Oh wait, the race…Did I win?"
"You should've," said another voice. It was one of the boys from the motorcycle club. Darcy couldn't remember his name just now. He might have been one of the newer guys.
"You really should have won," added Speed. He then turned and gave the younger biker a reprimanding look, as though he didn't want him to speak out of turn.
That's when Darcy noticed the guys were all there. "Guys, you all came to visit me in the hospital? That's so sweet. No wonder the public thinks you're all right. Thank you." The warm show of care and affection from such rough and tough men was all the more touching. Darcy felt like she might want to cry, if only she wasn't so dried out and sore. She just didn't have the energy to get swept up in such a display of emotions.
But there they were, looking like they’d actually showered for once. It looked as though some of them had even combed their hair and were trying to look presentable.
“What’s going on?” she said. “Wait, are you boys wearing clean clothes?”
They still had their jackets on, but were, indeed, wearing new clothes, as well. There was a sheepish look on each one of their faces, like they had just been caught doing something incredibly foolish or, worse, completely un-street.
"Don't make a big thing out of it," said Larry. He was looking a lot less like a dirt bag, and a lot more like your average dad type. He looked like maybe he could even be someone's father or husband one day. That was a long shot, Darcy knew, but it was still nice to see them in a different light for once.
And Darcy was impressed, if not kind of suspicious about whether or not there might have been any ulterior motives for the new look.
"Did you guys get dressed up just for me?" she asked. They replied with quietly grunted sounds to confirm this was the case. Darcy continued, "I don't know what to say. Wow…just wow. Not bad.”
Speed had been hanging at an arm's remove from her, like she might be crushed if there wasn't enough room for her to breathe. He mo
ved closer, and then Darcy saw the most tender and caring look come over his face. Saying the guy was relieved would have been a huge understatement. He came in close and kissed her deeply, gently, stroking her hair and being mushy, even though his gang was looking on. It was the kind of moment that really showed a person's true colors. How they felt about another person.
He drew back and something was on his mind. At first he stumbled over the words on his lips before they'd even begun to form properly. "I, uh…" he said and then stopped. "There's some things that we should probably talk about. The doctor said you might not remember what happened. They also said that telling you too much might give you false memories. You know what, I think we'd better get a nurse or something."