by CM Genovese
The laughter continued, sounding like an old woman’s cackle, as the driver slammed his foot on the gas and the car sped off.
“Caleb!” I called.
The car’s taillights disappeared in the white mist, and I was left standing alone. When I looked toward the school, all the children in the playground had stopped playing. They’d all turned toward me and were staring at me.
“Sir!” one of them yelled, a tiny girl with blonde pigtails. “Sir?”
I snapped out of the dream to hear someone calling out to me from the other side of the truck’s window. “Sir?” A rapid rap of knuckles against the glass brought me to full attention. A young cop stood outside the truck. “Sir, you okay?”
Rolling down the window, I wiped the sleep from my eyes and said, “Yeah, I must have fallen asleep. I’m good.”
“You can’t sleep in the park, sir,” the cop informed me.
“I wasn’t sleeping in the park,” I reminded him. “I was sleeping in my truck.”
“Have you been drinking?” he asked.
“No, I was thinking. Just thinking and fell asleep.”
“I’m going to need you to step out of the car.”
“Have you ever heard of The Royal Bastards?” I replied.
He stammered and backed up a step, putting his hand on the pistol holstered at his belt.
“I ain’t gonna fuckin’ shoot you,” I told him, followed by a chuckle. “I was only sayin’ you should choose your battles. There’s some things you might want to arrest me for. Sleeping in a truck parked at a playground sure as shit ain’t one of ‘em.”
The cop still hadn’t found his voice. He was young, probably fresh on the job. Sometimes that meant the guy would be gung-ho and ready to arrest somebody. Sometimes, like this time, it meant the cop would be intimidated when up against a real outlaw.
“What’s your name, man?” I asked.
“Brantley,” he replied.
“Look, Brantley. I ain’t been drinking. Not since about ten o’clock last night. Long before I drove out here. I have some personal shit goin’ on right now. I needed some time alone, so I came to sit here, where my son plays sometimes, and I happened to fall asleep. That’s all.”
Cop Brantley nodded. “OK, sir.”
“Sound about right?” I asked him.
“Sounds about right to me. I’ll let you get on with your day then.”
“That would be very much appreciated.”
Cop Brantley walked away, and when he did, my eyes fell on the baby swing in the playground. It brought back the memory of the baby I’d saved the night of Holly’s death. I’d left it with the weed-smoking hoodlum and his mechanic pal, but I’d saved him for sure. If he’d remained up there in that apartment, who knew what would have happened to him.
That nun is what would have happened to him.
The nun. My dream came back to me, and I thought of Caleb being taken by that black car. I thought of the baby I’d saved again. I wondered what happened to him. Where was he now? Who was he now? He had to be what, sixteen? Without his parents, it would have been easy for him to fall into a destructive way of life. I hoped he’d discovered a better path than I could ever imagine. I hoped he beat the odds.
Before driving out of the parking lot, I pulled out my phone and checked it. My message back to Tayla was still unread.
“Fucking figures,” I said to myself, upset that I’d allowed myself to feel even a bit of excitement over the thought of being with her again. I knew better. If there was a way to take back the message, I would have. Now, it felt like I’d left the ball in her court.
8
With so few hours slept the night before, it didn’t take long for me to pass out at the clubhouse after watching a couple of hours of TV. Nugget forced me to watch Lethal Weapon 2 with him first, followed by First Blood, the first Rambo movie. He loved 80s action flicks but insisted we watch them on old VHS tapes. Cracker, the old man who kept the clubhouse up and running, kept a VCR around mostly because he liked to watch old family tapes filled with kids who no longer gave a shit about him.
“That’s the tricky thing about life,” Cracker told me once over a beer. “You spend half your life takin’ care of children. You protect ‘em, put a roof over their heads, feed ‘em, teach ‘em, make sure they want for nothin’. You put aside your own happiness sometimes, always making sure they come first. Then, when they’re old enough to get married and go out on their own, POOF, they abandon you.”
He’d said the word POOF while throwing out his hands like a magician performing a trick. Then, when he was finished with his statement, he stared at his feet for a while. Sadness was there in his eyes when they finally rose and moved back to his beer. He took a long pull from the bottle and winced through the burn.
“It’s crazy,” he mumbled.
It was crazy, and it made me think of Caleb again. What would he be like when he was older if I never played a part in his upbringing? What would he become if I did? A pilot like his fake old man? Or a biker like his real one?
The sheets were stripped off my bed when I finally made it to my room. Slitz wasn’t there. Neither was the naked chick he’d been fucking. I was too tired to make the bed, so I grabbed a pillow, stripped down to my boxers, and slept on the mattress.
I must have been exhausted because it was early evening when I woke. No messages came through from Tayla. At first, I was upset, but then it occurred to me that her husband may have gotten ahold of her phone. If he did, shit would be really bad for her. Not for me. I didn’t give a shit about that cocksucker. He knew better than to come my way, but he might throw some fists at her.
If you’d answered her right away, there wouldn’t have been a problem, but you had to make her wait.
I was being hard on myself again. It wasn’t my responsibility to answer her immediately. It wasn’t my responsibility to answer her at all. Why was she even sending me messages about missing me? She’d fucked me up bad when she decided to let some other man raise my son.
She let her husband raise your son. What else was she supposed to do? Divorce him and ride around on the back of your bike? Hold on tight so the car seat wouldn’t scrape against the asphalt when you made sharp turns?
Again, there was a party at the clubhouse. This one was in Beezus’s honor, so I had to be there. Usually, I was up for any kind of party, but lately, I wasn’t in the mood. Yet, seeing the youngest member of our MC standing at the bar holding a stick in his hand, about to bust open a piñata shaped like a tittie, I couldn’t help but smile.
It wasn’t long ago that I was sure he’d die. I’d fucked-up bad and left him outside the building we were storming. BP had given me strict orders to stay outside with him, to watch the backdoor in case the Russians snuck out, and I’d disobeyed. I was more concerned about the action taking place inside the building to wait my turn out back with Beezus. He took a bullet in the gut for it. He bled out in my arms that night and I prayed to God he’d make it. I was so sure he wouldn’t.
And here he was pretending to lick a paper mâché nipple.
He held up his beer when he saw me watching him. I lifted mine in his direction.
There wasn’t even an ounce of anger in him. He should have hated me. His recovery process sucked, and he’d gone through hell, but not once did he blame me for what happened to him. He was a good kid.
Thank God he survived.
I closed my eyes for a moment and when I opened them, a shower of random shit fell from the open hole Beezus had smashed in the side of the piñata. Everyone laughed and cheered. Nugget and Oosik hit their knees with the women around, including Pinky and Molly, and scooped up everything from packs of cigarettes, tins of Skoal, condoms, lube, furry handcuffs… you name it. It was a hodgepodge of biker delights.
Pinky pulled a pirate eye patch, complete with skull and crossbones on it, out of the pile and put it on Beezus. It was such a random thing to put in the piñata, but it made for good laughs now. Beezus yelled h
is best pirate, “Argh!” and kissed Pinky hard on her lips. She squealed and ran away from him. “Give me that booty!” he called out as he chased after her.
Damn, these are good people. To think you wouldn’t know them at all if you hadn’t hid next to that dumpster as a kid.
Now that I did know them, I couldn’t imagine life without them. They were my family. I may not know what would happen to my son, but if he one day chose this life, he’d find the most loyal family that ever existed. These people would never leave him.
They’d fight, kill, and…
I looked over at Beezus once more as I finished my thought.
They’d die for him… for you… for family.
The party went on and Beezus was treated like a king for the night. That was how we got down. Every man had his night. Every woman too if she was hitched to one of the Royal Bastards. It was just after midnight when my phone buzzed in my pocket. It wasn’t the short double buzz I got when a text message came in. Someone was calling my phone. I didn’t recognize the number when I answered it.
“This better be good,” I said into the receiver, like I had something better to do than answer my phone.
“That’s no way to treat a lady,” came the sweet sound of Carla’s voice.
“You called,” I said.
“I did.”
“I hoped you would.”
She could get my mind off all this other shit.
“Well,” she said followed by a short silence, “I wish I could say I was calling you for the first time without needing a favor.”
I chuckled. “A favor.”
She sighed. “My two bodyguards left me, and my car won’t start. I’m alone out here in the parking lot.”
“Sounds like you need new bodyguards.”
“That’s what I get for hiring two Irishmen. They found out about the Thursday Night Fights, the beer they’d have there, and the women that crowded the audience, and they asked if they could leave a little early.”
“Irishmen,” I said with a chuckle. “Yeah, you need new bodyguards. I’m on my way. Be careful out there by yourself.”
The night was warmer than the previous one, and I thought she might like a ride on the bike, so I rode my Harley to the pub. It took me about a half hour to get out of the MC and make the drive all the way there. Our clubhouse was located a ways off the highway, kind of off the beaten path, so going anywhere required a bit of a haul.
When I arrived at Paddy’s, Carla was standing outside. She put her hands together in prayer, thanking God I’d arrived to help her, and jogged over to me. I hadn’t even gotten off the bike when she threw her arms around my neck and hugged me.
“You’re a life saver,” she said.
Her perfume smelled like roses and she looked damn good for having worked all day.
“Hop on,” I said.
She climbed onto the back of my bike.
“You might want to strap that purse across your chest,” I warned her.
Her fidgeting behind me told me she was following my advice. When her fingertips gripped my waist, I felt shivers down my spine. Something about a woman on the back of my bike, especially this one, pressed against me with her hands holding onto me just drove me wild.
“Not too fast, okay?” she whispered in my ear. Her nerves caused it to sound breathy and the warmth of her words on my earlobe toyed with my cock.
“Home or someplace else?” I asked.
“Can I be honest with you?”
“I’d prefer it.”
“I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said the other night. If you’re not looking for a relationship, then maybe we should go someplace we can be alone.”
That was all I needed to hear. My bones were aching I wanted to fuck Carla so badly.
She squealed when I tore off out of the parking lot.
With the summer threatening to come to an end, the daylight that could last most of the night had already sunk behind the mountains. It was after midnight and the Anchorage streets were dark now. I kept our speed at what most would consider reasonable as I drove to the nearest motel. It didn’t need to be fancy. This wasn’t a date. It was two people needing to get off and using each other to do it.
Next door to the Down Pillow Motel was a liquor store. I went in and bought us a bottle of whiskey and a two-liter of Coke. She’d need it to loosen up. I knew her kind. She wanted to hook up, she needed to come, but she’d second guess herself the whole night.
She stayed outside while I paid for the room. When I came out and reached for her hand, she pulled it away. “No hands, Pipe. No holding hands.”
“Fine by me,” I said as I passed her and walked toward the room.
If she didn’t want to hold hands, she’d have to speed up. Carla followed me to a room on the bottom floor, fourth door to the right, where I put the key in the lock, opened it, and flicked on the light.
“It’s not the nicest—” I started to say as I turned toward her.
She was on me quickly, her tongue in my mouth, and her hand reaching for my belt.
“At least buy me a drink first,” I joked through our mashed-up kisses.
With both hands against my chest, she shoved me onto the queen-size bed. I’d never believed in the cliché daddy, or in my case mommy, issues, but seeing this older, attractive woman staring down at me, I felt more comfortable than I should have. It was a strange feeling because I knew this wasn’t going to be a relationship, she wasn’t going to end up being my ol’ lady, but I felt like once I was inside her all the static in my head would finally settle down. She’d have a calming effect on me. I could feel it.
I feared the truth was I only wanted to fuck the memory of Tayla out of me. Maybe after feeling Carla scratch my back, howl out my name, and quiver with me inside her, I’d lose that excitement I felt when the mother of my son sent me a random text. Maybe that sorrow I felt each time I drove away from the park would subside. Maybe filling this other woman with my seed would somehow absolve me of my sins and set things right again. It was a dumb thought, but it felt real at the time.
She smiled. “I can make you a drink if you want.”
The conundrum of knowing I needed to show her the respect she deserved and wanting to put her on all fours and drive my cock into her was driving me crazy. This was a hell of a lot more puzzling than I’d expected.
“What?” she asked, seeming to realize I was caught in my thoughts.
“You’re a firecracker, ain’tcha?”
Now it was her turn to silently dwell on what we were about to do.
“I was… once.” She looked down at me lying on the bed and then at her hands.
“Hey,” I said, trying to break her of the trance she seemed to be in. “No feelings, remember? No hard ones either. If you’re not down for this, you say the word and we’ll watch some TV. Or I can drive you home if you want.”
She shook her head and smiled. Her eyes looked moist and I knew she was on the verge of tears. “I’m fine. Memories, that’s all.”
“You’re not fine. Why don’t you sit down, and I’ll get us a drink?”
She nodded and sat.
“We need ice,” I informed her as I held up the empty bucket. “Be right back.”
Outside, the parking lot was full. I knew this motel well. It was a place many of the military members from Elmendorf took their flings. A lot of the single guys lived in the barracks buildings where they had a roommate or two. Married guys often lived in the on-base housing neighborhoods. If the single guys wanted to be alone with a girl or if married guys wanted to sneak off with one, they’d come to this place.
I knew because I’d dated an Air Force chick or two. Even military women like bad boys, and you’ve never seen a freak in the sheets until you’ve watched a woman in uniform unravel. As soon as that hair comes out of its bun, shit gets real. I had to laugh just thinking about it.
The ice machine was halfway down the hallway, which meant I had to pass a few doors to get
there. In one, a couple was fucking like the apocalypse was about to start. The bed squeaked, the headboard knocked against the wall, and one of the people in the room wheezed loudly. The couple was done by the time I filled up the bucket and was on my way back.
Halfway to my room, I heard keys jingling in the parking lot. I glanced right out of simple curiosity, and I saw nobody. If anyone had been there, I might not have thought twice about it, but the fact I knew I’d heard the damn keys and there was no one in sight, brought my senses to high alert. I wasn’t a paranoid guy, but my club had seen a lot of violence lately, and I knew any of us could get attacked at any time.
With one arm around the ice bucket, I dropped my right hand down to my waist and thumbed the hammer of my pistol. Quickly, I walked toward my room, hoping my suspicions were wrong and I was only being jumpy. I was right outside my room’s window, about to reach the door, when the jingling of keys became frantic clanging, and somebody roared.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw them, but they were too fast, and my reaction was too late. Two of the thugs held back while one, a bull of a man wearing a black stocking cap over his head, hit me with a football tackle that lifted me off my feet and drove me backward. The window behind me did nothing to break my fall and the blast of shattered glass rained down over as I tumbled backward through the window frame with this monstrosity on top of me.
Carla screamed from somewhere in the room behind me. She’d probably been on the bed when we came crashing through.
The guy on top of me pointed a gun at my chin, but I quickly lifted my head up and to the right, bringing my mouth to his wrist where I bit down as hard as I could. My mouth slid down and found his thumb wrapped around the pistol grip. I bit down on it so hard I felt the bone crunch in my jaw.
His left fist came down hard against the side of my head. I rolled and got to my knees in time to catch his sneakered foot as it was about to punt kick me across the room. Even with my hands around it, his toes caught my stomach and knocked the wind out of me a bit.
While I struggled with this asshole, his two buddies came in through the door.