by CM Genovese
“Nothing. Daydreaming I suppose.”
“About?”
“More ‘what ifs’.”
Caleb looked up at me from the sandbox and waved. “Hi, Uncle Pipe.”
I waved back at him. “Maybe we should have told him my real name.”
Tayla laughed. “Uncle Pipe sounds like some creepy pedophile who lives down the street.”
“Don’t trick or treat at that house,” I joined in. “Uncle Pipe’s gonna getcha.”
“You misbehaved this year,” she added. “No Santa for you. You’re getting paid a visit from Uncle Pipe.”
Soon we were both cracking up. Caleb made his way over to us. His sister followed after him. She was four. It had only taken them two years after our transgressions for them to have another child. Myra was a cute kid though.
I snatched Caleb up and sat him on my lap. “You been good, kiddo?”
“Yes, Uncle Pipe,” he replied.
Tayla and I both started laughing again.
“What’s so funny?” he asked.
“Nothing, buddy,” I said. “Your mom told me a funny joke. That’s all.”
“Can I hear it?” he asked.
“Sure,” I said, turning to Tayla. “Go ahead, tell him the joke.”
She bit her bottom lip, wrinkled her brow, and thought for a second.
“You don’t remember it?” I asked, deciding to go ahead and save her. “When is it time to go to the dentist?”
Caleb grinned and asked, “When?”
“Tooth-hurty,” I replied. “Get it? Like two-thirty, but tooth… hurty?”
It took him a second and then he started cackling with laughter. Tayla smiled, and I found myself captured in it. Her eyes sparkled, and I felt her hand touch mine again. For a moment, and only a moment, I felt a sinking feeling in my stomach. It felt a little like hope. Hope that there was… well… hope for us yet. When she pulled her hand back, the feeling went with it.
“Hey, I’ve got something for you,” I said to Caleb. “Wait here a second.”
He clapped his hands excitedly as I sat him down on the bench and walked over to my bike, reached into my saddlebag, and brought out his gift. I kept it behind my back as I walked over to him.
“Do you really want to know what it is?” I asked.
He nodded vigorously.
“Are you sure?”
“I don’t know if he’s sure,” Tayla played along.
“I am sure,” Caleb said.
I pulled a big green T-Rex toy from behind my back and handed it to him. His eyes shot open in surprise. The kid loved dinosaurs. Little Myra reached out to touch his dinosaur. She, too, was excited.
“And I’ve got something for you too, Myra,” I said.
Her eyes lit up when I brought from behind my back a pink dinosaur almost identical to the one I’d given her brother.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tayla’s lips purse, and I knew she was getting emotional. I’d seen the look many times over the years.
The kids ran off to play with their dinosaurs, shouting their thank yous all the way back to the sandbox.
“That was sweet,” Tayla said.
“Kids love toys,” I replied.
Silence passed between us. When I looked at her, I saw her wipe at her eyes. It might’ve been the formation of tears, but I wasn’t sure. If so, she’d wiped them away, but in their wake I noticed something I hadn’t before. I reached out to touch her cheek, right below her eye. She’d tried to cover up a bruise with makeup.
“Did he hit you again?” I asked.
She closed her eyes and gently shook her head. “No, one of the kitchen cabinets got me when I was making dinner the other night.”
“What were you cooking?” I asked.
She took too long to think about it when she started to say, “I was making a pot of—”
“Stop.”
“Pipe.”
“He hit you again.”
“No, I swear.”
“Tayla, you need to get away from that guy. If not for you, then for the kids. Caleb and Myra, they don’t—”
“I know. I know. We’re working things out.”
“You’re always working things out.”
Silence. She refused to look at me.
“How are your just in case funds?” I asked.
“I’ve got some money put away.”
I reached into my pocket and handed her the wad of bills I’d prepared in advance. “Put this in his piggy bank. Just in case.”
She hesitated but took the money. We’d gone over this routine so many times we both knew how it would play out. She’d turn down the money, I’d insist, she’d decline, I’d insist, and it would go on and on until she finally accepted it.
“Thank you, Pipe,” she said with another rub of my hand.
“Guess I should get goin’,” I said. “Duty calls.”
We couldn’t hug. I’d tried to embrace her a few times, but she was convinced her husband might have someone watching us. I never saw anyone spying, but I wouldn’t put it past the bastard to pay some private dick to make sure I wasn’t putting it to his old lady again.
“Take care of yourself, okay?” Tayla said, and I knew she meant it.
“You too and if that motherfucker touches you again, you call me. I mean it. Let him be on the receiving end of that shit. You won’t ever be nobody’s punching bag as long as I’m around.”
She nodded and forced a smile.
“Caleb, see you later, buddy,” I called out with a wave. “Myra, you too sweetheart.”
“Bye, Uncle Pipe,” Caleb said, and as he called me by that name I felt a sting in my heart. I longed for the day he might simply say, “Dad.”
5
It might’ve been a bit of pain that drove me to Paddy’s that night. I was definitely in need of a drink. Tayla had a way of, without even trying, kicking my dick in the dirt. She was everything I wanted and couldn’t have. What I needed and couldn’t get. I tried telling myself we were better off apart. If that flyboy piece of shit wasn’t putting his hands on her, Tayla would have been much better off the way things were. He had so much more to offer her and the kids. But he cheated on her and abused her physically and emotionally. Yet, she chose him.
Rain was busy with Cassie, so I headed to the diner by myself. A few cars dotted the parking lot in metallic blue, red, and white. My motorcycle didn’t take up much space next to the handicap spot, so that’s where I parked it. In a couple of hours, the lot would be empty. The diner was always bare after 10pm. The nightclubs didn’t close down until about two o’clock in the morning. Paddy’s closed at the same time, but it wasn’t known as a party spot, so the place usually cleared out long before lights out.
After the incident the other night, I needed to be able to keep an eye on my bike through the diner windows. Assholes seemed to like retaliating on a man’s ride rather than on the man himself. It was a bitch move, but it was one that occurred more often than not.
Carla wasn’t the only one working this night. Paddy’s was staffed with another male and female server. They were both young, probably enrolled at the local college. I didn’t have to ask to know Carla never wanted to be alone in the face of danger again.
Seated at the bar were two big Irishmen. If their accents didn’t give them away, the ginger beard on the older bald man and the newsboy cap the younger one wore did. They nursed beers, but I knew the second the entrance bell jingled overhead, and they turned to look at me, they were some sort of security. Carla had done well. Maybe having a few more bodies in the place would act as a deterrent if the damn curse wasn’t enough to keep assholes away.
The old ginger nodded at me, so I returned the gesture before heading over to my usual spot. The new waitress moseyed over to me. She was cute with short red hair and freckles dotting her cheeks and nose. Rain would have liked her back in the day. Back before he became so attached to Cassie.
“Cool jacket,” she said as she approached t
he table.
She was talking about my kutte.
“Thanks,” I said.
Carla was over by the cash register and if she’d seen me enter, she showed no sign of wanting to acknowledge me.
“Carla busy?” I asked.
“She’s doing her management thing,” the girl said. Her nametag read: Kale.
Kids these days had the strangest names and ridiculous ways of spelling normal ones, so I wasn’t sure if her name was pronounced like the vegetable, or if it was just a fucked up way of spelling Kelly.
“Kale?” I asked, deciding to go with the vegetable.
“Cali,” she replied, like the abbreviation for The Golden State.
“Of course,” I said with a chuckle under my breath. “Can I get a Coke, in the can is fine, and a glass of Jack? I’ll take the bacon burger too with some fries.”
“Got it, babe,” she said with a wink and cute turn followed by a walk that would get her invited into the next MC party real fast.
When Carla finally glanced my way, I raised two fingers and gestured for her to come over. Both Irishmen watched as she approached. One said something to her, and she patted him on the shoulder.
Yep, definitely security.
“You’ve beefed up the staff quite a bit, haven’t you?” I said as she made it to my table and sat down across from me.
“Callum insisted on it,” Carla said. When I furrowed my brow, she added, “Paddy’s grandson. He’s the one leaving me the place. He’s divorced, has no kids, and his brother’s too sick to worry about a failing diner… or pub as they refer to it. Doesn’t look much like a pub.”
It was strange referring to it as a pub. It had more of a diner vibe to it even if they did serve liquor and beer.
“Sounds like a good future for you,” I replied.
“Have you seen this place? It’s not exactly hopping.”
She was right. Compared to the other nightlife in town and even the daytime lunch joints, Paddy’s was barely holding on.
“So what’s the plan?” I asked.
“If I can not get robbed again anytime soon, I’m going to turn this place into a craft beer bar. More like an actual pub. See those two guys seated over there?”
She was talking about the Irishmen.
“Can’t miss ‘em.”
“The young one’s Finn. The older one’s Tommy. They’re brothers and they do security work for their cousin, Connor. He and his partners create some of the finest craft beers in the north.”
“So they’re protecting their investment.”
“That, and their granddad was good friends with Paddy, so… you know… Irish loyalty.”
“Those two guys aren’t going to be able to provide you with the kind of protection you need against the Russians and Samoans.”
She pursed her lips.
“You’re pretty when you do that,” I told her.
“Here you go flirting with me again.”
“Sorry, it’s my nature to flirt I guess. What I was going to say is, maybe I can talk to my club president, BP, and see if we can work something out where we protect your place.”
“For a fee,” Carla said.
I nodded.
“It’d be like getting in bed with the mob,” she added.
“You don’t have to get in bed with anybody,” I said, “but me.”
Silence passed between us. It wasn’t meant to be a cheesy pick up line. It kind of slipped from my lips.
“Pipe, I don’t even know if you’re serious right now, but I don’t have time for a relationship—
“I don’t want a relationship,” I whispered, “but we’re both lonely people right now, and I’m guessing you haven’t been with a man for a long time.”
Her lip trembled as she stared down at the table. Her gaze lifted to meet mine.
“It’s been a while.”
“Think about it,” I said. “No strings. We’re both busy. I get you off, you get me off… it’s as easy as that. In the meantime, I’ll talk to BP and see if we can work out something easy for you. Protection for a small fee.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“We’ll talk about the terms later. You still got my number?”
She nodded.
“Think about it,” I repeated.
Carla smiled and got up from my table. I ate my meal with her glancing over at me from time to time. She wanted me. I knew that much. Finally, as I finished off my whiskey and stood to pay my tab, I saw her nod at me. It was a quick, slight nod that nobody else in the place caught, but it was her answer.
When I forked over the cash for my meal, I leaned close to her and asked, “When?”
“I’ll call you,” she said.
6
“You want to protect Paddy’s,” BP, our club president, said.
Everyone was silent. Rain had my back as I knew he would. He always did.
“It’s free money, Pres,” Rain said softly. “We protect them, take a cut, and that’s that.”
“Is it worth the risk?” Frostbite, our VP asked. He had a good head on his shoulders. “I mean we went through some serious shit with the Russians. Beezus is barely alive.”
Beezus flexed his thick bicep, showing off his Beezus and Ramona book cover tattoo. “I’m strong.”
“We know you are, buddy,” I said, a slight pain setting in when I remembered it was my fault he almost died. If I’d only listened to orders instead of running off to join my friends in battle, I would have been there to have his back when the Russians came charging out the back door and put him down.
“If anything’s making me want in on this, it’s the fucking Russians,” BP replied. “We ain’t done with those fucks. Not yet. Not by a long shot. Just ‘cause they left out the backdoor don’t mean they ain’t planning to sneak back in.”
“Pres is just trying to guard his backdoor,” Nugget, our resident goofball, said as he used both hands to smooth down the strip of Mohawk hair he had atop his head.
“Damn right I am,” BP replied, not getting the joke at first. He closed his eyes for a second and smirked. Then he picked up an empty beer can and flung it at Nugget. “Fucker,” he said.
Everyone laughed.
“We could always send Oosik in their backdoor,” I joked.
Oosik had a gigantic cock, which is what landed him his nickname. An Oosik was the name of the giant walrus penis. He resembled a big ass Viking. All he needed was a horned helmet.
“Send me after some of them Russian stripper girls and I’d say hell yeah, but I ain’t poking your Russian boyfriends,” Oosik shot back.
Slitz, our badass enforcer, and one of the craziest motherfuckers I’d ever met said, “I like the idea of the pub. Extra income, potential fight headed our way—”
“You always want to fight,” Carousel, our treasurer said. “Speaking of fights, you still planning on doing this Thursday Night Fight?”
Thursday Night Fights took place in the arena downtown. Anyone could fight as long as they signed the waiver, agreed to all the rules, and had brass balls. Slitz had a hammer for a right hand. He’d signed up to fight twice and scored a knockout each time.
“Depends,” Slitz said. “Depends on Pipe. He said he’d fight this time too.”
I shook my head and laughed. I often joked about it, but I had no real intention of getting in the ring. The money wasn’t good enough to take an unwarranted beating and as much as I enjoyed a good battle, fighting with all those rules involved wasn’t quite as much fun as squaring off against somebody on the street.
“You ain’t gonna fight, are you?” Slitz asked, jabbing a finger in my direction. “You fuckin’ promised, man.”
Sometimes Slitz was like a big kid. A big, mean kid. You had to be careful with words around him because he took a lot of shit personally and he often misinterpreted words. If you told him you might do something, he heard, “I promise I’ll do it.”
“I never promised that,” I said.
&nbs
p; “You’re a damn liar!” he replied.
I was anything but a liar, and I hated having my honesty called into question, so I jumped up, kicking my chair back, and stood in front of him with both my fists balled and at the ready.
“You just called me a liar, brother. That ain’t a word to be thrown around,” I said, looking down at him.
He stood up and puffed out his muscular chest. “Yeah? Well, maybe I meant it.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t wait for Thursday Night Fights.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t.”
“Would you two ladies sit the fuck down so we can get back to business?” BP yelled.
Slitz was the first to grin. Then I did too. He shoved my chest and I softly slapped the side of his head. We were both laughing by the time we sat down. Shit could get real so fast with so much testosterone in one room, but it would die down just as quickly. Even if we’d gotten into a fistfight, it would have ended with us having a drink together and laughing about how stupid we’d been.
“Punk,” Slitz said out of the corner of his mouth.
“Pussy,” I replied.
“Talk to this chick at the diner or pub – whatever it is,” BP said. “Give her the usual protection terms. We’ll go easy on her. We’ll protect her as long as she pays us. If she wants out, we’re out.”
“So, no strong-arming Paddy’s,” I said, wanting to make sure I understood. “If she wants out of the deal, she only has to say the word.”
“And pay us up to that point,” BP added.
It was the perfect deal. We were simply security for hire. It wasn’t always that way. We got involved with a seafood market downtown. The guy running the joint asked for a loan to get up and running, then he wanted our protection, and by the end of it he was so deep in debt with us that he ended up getting both his legs broken and his shop set on fire for refusing to pay. I wanted to make sure Carla wasn’t getting Paddy’s into a deal that would get her hurt. Lately, it seemed, BP was trying to travel the calmer route.
“Let me ask you something though,” BP asked. “You fuckin’ this chick?”
“Carla?” I asked.
He nodded. Everyone quietly waited for my answer.