by CM Genovese
“Heard you had some issues,” I said.
“Yeah, glad you’re here.” She threw the door open and walked away. “I’ve been cleaning this whole damn apartment since your buddy, Nugget, was here. I swear it was like having a teenage son around the house. All he did was watch Cinemax, eat up all my damn food, and shit so hard he practically blew up the bathroom.”
“I heard it was bad chili.”
“Bad chili. He didn’t even make it halfway through my chili and my chili is some of the best you’ll ever have in your life. No, this asshole let me make him a mint chocolate chip milkshake and failed to let me know he was lactose intolerant.”
I lost it. I started laughing so hard I couldn’t catch my breath. I closed the door behind me and walked to the couch, a sofa I was quite familiar with. As I plopped down on it, I couldn’t help thinking about the last time I was here. Having her wake me up in the middle of the night with her mouth wrapped around my cock.
“I have to talk to you,” I said when my laughter finally died down.
“Well,” she said as she stripped off the rubber gloves and tossed them in a plastic bucket on the floor, “I’m done cleaning up after your Neanderthal friend, so I’m all ears.”
“I’m seeing someone,” I said.
“I hope it’s the woman you were thinking of while you were doing me,” she said.
“Damn, just lay my business out there in the open like that.”
“Please, honey, at my age you learn to say what’s on your mind. So, is it her?”
“It is. The mother of my son. There’s a lot of history there. A long story. But she’s going to leave her husband for me.”
Carla sat down next to me on the couch. She tucked one leg up under her and put her hand on my knee. “Are you sure that’s what you want?”
“I’ve never been more sure.”
“Surer,” she corrected me.
“Whatever.”
“Well, Pipe, you’re a good man. You’re a great lover. You deserve a woman who can match you in both of those arenas. Is she worth it?”
“I think so. There’s kind of a problem though. A few actually.”
“Tell me.”
I told her all of the issues Tayla and I had. She nodded and then offered her advice.
“Divorce happens,” she said. “It happens a lot. If her husband is hitting her, she needs to leave him. If you’re the man she wants, she needs to be with you. You get an apartment or a house outside that clubhouse. That’s no place for kids. If your son thinks you’re his uncle, you’re going to have to take baby steps around that one. Maybe tell him that his mom called you that because you’re a great friend of hers and you love them both very much. But that you’re not really his uncle. When he’s old enough to understand, you can approach the whole ‘you really being his daddy’ subject. As far as her dad not knowing about you two, it’s really not his business. She’s an adult, but if you feel worried about it, you’re better off just being honest with him. Honesty is usually the best answer.”
“And I need to be honest with Tayla about you.”
“Sure. Fine. Tell her we hooked up once. It’s true. It only happened once. Neither of us wanted to do it again.”
Carla was a good friend. If Tayla could handle the truth about her, it would be nice to keep her as one. She was full of great advice.
“I’m going to shower and start getting ready for work,” Carla said.
When she disappeared into the bathroom, I checked my phone and found a message from Tayla. It read: I miss you, and I love you.
I was about to answer her text when there came a knock at Carla’s door.
“Someone’s at your door,” I called out.
The sound of the water beating down in the shower must have drowned out my voice. I got up and walked to her door. I peered out the peephole and didn’t see anyone. Figuring someone must have had the wrong door and walked away, I started back toward the couch when the knocking sounded off again.
I turned back to the door and looked through the peephole again. Nobody was there.
“What the fuck?” I said under my breath as I pulled my gun. Holding it behind my back but ready, I yanked the door open, hoping to surprise whoever was on the other side.
A young boy, maybe eight years old, stood in front of me. His black hair was cut like his mom had put a bowl on his head and cut around it. His eyes were dark. He was dressed in a multicolored racecar T-shirt and jeans. In his hands was a green controller for a remote-control car. At his feet was a black and green race car with an antenna sticking up out of the back.
“Is Ronnie home?” the kid asked.
“Ronnie? I think you might have the wrong apartment, kid.”
“I thought Ronnie lived here.”
“No, no Ronnie here.”
“Ah, okay,” he said with a heavy sigh.
He turned and walked away. I stepped out into the dark hallway and watched him shuffle his feet slowly toward the other end. His car zoomed in front of him, bumping into the wall on the left and then the wall on the right. He was about halfway down the hall when the dim lights above began to flicker.
“Uh oh,” the kid said, but he kept walking after his car.
Behind him, the elevator dinged, and the door swung open.
I stood outside Carla’s apartment and watched, with my stomach aching and ice in my veins, as a nun wearing a beige habit stepped out of the elevator.
I couldn’t see her face with the thin veil over it, but she stepped straight out, facing the far wall. I expected her to glance at me, but she didn’t. She turned right and followed the boy.
“Hey!” I yelled.
The nun didn’t look back. Neither did the boy. He was more preoccupied with the toy car he was following. It bumped into the wall again but continued forward. He kept going.
The nun followed. There was no wind in the hallway, yet the nun’s habit blew around her as if a gusty breeze was ripping through the building.
I walked after them both. The hairs on my arms stood up. I was suddenly freezing.
“Hey, boy,” I said, rubbing at my arms.
He ignored me as he reached the end of the hallway and opened the door to the stairwell.
“Hey, kid! Stop!”
The boy entered the stairwell, letting the door slam shut behind him.
Seconds later, the nun reached the door. She looked my way for only a second, but her face was still hidden behind her veil. Then, as if my presence didn’t matter, she opened the door and followed after the kid.
“Fucking wait!” I yelled as I picked up my pace and ran down the hallway.
I yanked open the door to the stairwell and stepped in with my gun out, expecting to be ambushed by the nun.
The stairwell was empty.
I looked over the railing, to see if the boy had gone down or up. I saw his shirt round the stairs below, so I started my chase again. The nun’s habit followed right after him, only a couple of floors down.
Lower and lower I went until I reached the bottom floor and exited in the lobby. It was empty.
No kid.
No nun.
Nobody.
I ran out onto the street just in time to see the black limousine, the Black Volga as Lena had called it, speed away. I yanked my phone off my hip and dialed 911. I couldn’t believe I was doing this. I never called the cops, but a kid was taken. I just knew it. I felt it in my soul.
“911 what is your emergency?”
“A kid was just taken…”
When I reached Carla’s apartment, the door was open. I was sure I’d closed it. I stepped in and started across the kitchen when my foot slipped on a puddle on the floor.
Why is there water on the floor?
The shower. It was louder than before. Then I heard the sound of Carla’s muffled crying.
“Carla!” I yelled.
Her crying continued.
The bathroom door was open. Carla sat in the tub, facing the door, nak
ed and holding her knees. The water sprayed down over her, but she wasn’t paying attention to it. She was trembling and crying. Blood ran from her nose and the corner of her mouth.
“Carla!” I yelled again as I ran to her, turned off the shower, and wrapped my arms around her. “What the fuck happened?”
“They were in mah… mah… my apartment,” she cried.
“Carla, who was here?”
“Mah… mah… men. Three… three men.”
I yanked a towel off the hook on the back of the bathroom door. “Wrap yourself up in this.”
Every ounce of my being wanted to race out of her apartment and get down to the parking lot before the assholes who’d assaulted her had the chance to leave, but I knew they would be gone by now. Plus, leaving her here alone was too risky. I hadn’t even thoroughly checked the apartment.
Fuck, they could still be here.
“Stay right here,” I told her.
“No, please don’t leave me.”
“Carla, I have to. They could still be in the apartment.”
She begged me to stay. I held a hand out to tell her to calm down while I peeked out the bathroom door. The living room was empty. I’d already come through the kitchen. Her bedroom was the only place to search. I gave it a quick glance over, checked the closet and under the bed, and then rejoined her in the bathroom.
She’d stood and had the towel wrapped around her.
“The apartment’s empty,” I said.
Still trembling, she could barely walk as I led her to her bedroom and put her under the blankets in her bed.
“You got coffee?” I asked.
She nodded.
“I’m going to make you some. I’ll be right back.”
She shook her head frantically and gripped my arm so tight I thought she might dig her fingernails into my flesh.
“Carla, baby,” I said. “You have to calm down, all right? I need you to tell me what happened.”
She nodded.
“Relax.”
“Where… where were you?” she asked.
“Somebody knocked on your door and I went to answer,” I said, “and there was this little boy who…”
I stopped talking, realizing what had happened. I’d let myself be distracted by this kid and a nun. It didn’t make sense though.
“Carla, what did they do to you?”
“Hit me,” she said. “Punched me here.” She touched her nose. “And here.” She touched her cheek. “And here.” She touched the spot between her legs.
“Did they rape you?”
“No. Just punched me there. Told me to tell my friends they were coming, and we would all pay.”
“Were they Russians?”
She nodded. “And Samoan I think.”
There was a knock at the door, and I stood with my teeth gritted. I pulled my gun, cocked it, and walked toward the door.
“This is Anchorage PD,” someone called from the other side of the door. “We received a call.”
I glanced through the peep hole and sure enough, there were two cops. One male, one female.
“Shit,” I muttered as I stuck my gun in the closest kitchen drawer. I was allowed to carry it but didn’t need any problems with the cops.
I felt like a fool rehashing the events. Why would a kid come knocking at the door? Why would a nun chase the kid? Why would armed henchmen come in and attack a pub owner while I was out there following a strange kid and a demonic nun? None of it made sense, yet all of it had happened.
The cops left the apartment at one point and came back an hour later claiming they’d gone door to door, and nobody was missing a child. Nobody had ever seen a kid in the building matching the description of the one I’d seen.
“St. Andrews is down the street,” the female cop said. “It’s possible they were here doing some kind of fundraiser for the orphanage. Maybe they brought a kid along with them.”
“You said nobody’d seen a kid matching the description of the one I told you about,” I reminded her.
“I’m just trying to help offer an explanation,” she replied. “You don’t need to be an asshole about it.”
“I’m sorry,” I said.
She was right. I was being an asshole, but cops and I didn’t usually get along.
“Y’all haven’t gotten any news about a black car cruising around, kidnapping children?” I asked.
“Kids disappear,” the male cop said, “but we haven’t been briefed on any abnormal cases or an alarming number of disappearances.”
I knew this wasn’t going to get me anywhere. If I wanted real information from the cops, I’d have to have BP call one of his buddies, but at least they were being nice. In the end, the cops did nothing. The kid, who may or may not have existed, was gone. The nun was gone. The Black Volga was gone. And Carla was shaken up quite a bit. She couldn’t stay at her apartment anymore. Not until we put a stop to this bullshit with the Russians and Samoans.
15
“This isn’t Days Inn,” BP said as I entered the clubhouse with Carla by my side. He turned to Carla and said, “I’m just fucking with you. Of course, we’ll put you up.”
“Just for the record, I didn’t ask for this favor,” Carla replied.
BP wheeled on her and held his hands out to his sides. “Of course, you didn’t. Nobody wants to be locked away, but if what I’ve heard is true, you pretty much spend all your time at your apartment and at the diner.”
“It’s a pub now,” Carla replied, “but yeah. You’re right.”
“Then what’s the difference? Stick around here, party with us a bit, and when this all blows over, you can go on living that boring-ass life of yours.”
“BP, damn, man,” I said.
“Am I wrong?” he asked.
Carla shook her head. “It is a pretty boring-ass life. Was. Was a boring life. I’d like my boring life back, so whatever you can do to help is appreciated.”
When BP walked away from us and we were alone in the living room area, she dropped her purse onto the couch and plopped down beside it. “This is ridiculous, Pipe.”
The bridge of her nose was still caked with blood and one corner of her mouth was swollen. “You were attacked in your shower. Would you be able to sleep tonight if you were alone in your apartment?”
She shook her head.
“I didn’t think so,” I continued. “You’ll be able to sleep here. Nobody would ever come here looking for you.”
“Where am I going to sleep?”
“I don’t know. There’s a room in the back we’ve kind of neglected. We use it as storage. I’m sure we can clean it out for you. You’d be back there with the rest of us.”
“I’m sure it’s nice and quiet then.”
“Do you want to be safe or have peace and quiet?”
“Honestly?” She laughed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. Thank you for your help.”
BP strolled through the living room and headed for the bar to pour a glass of whiskey. “Oh yeah, I called Adams over at Anchorage PD, like you asked, and he said he confirmed what the other cops told you. There hasn’t been any increase in child abductions.”
I walked over to the bar and snatched a beer out of the mini-fridge. “That doesn’t make any sense.”
“Are you sure you’re not losing it, brother?” he asked at a lower volume.
I glanced over at Carla who was typing something into her phone, not paying attention to us at all.
“Pres, I’m telling you, man. I saw this black… this Black Volga—”
“The fuck is a Black Volga?”
“Some Russian… or Polish car that is used to kidnap children.”
He chuckled. “You are losing it. Maybe you need a break.”
“I know what I saw. And it’s not the first time I saw it. You remember when you found me behind that dumpster? Earlier that night when I did what I did… I saw it then too. It was watching me.”
BP put the back of his hand to my forehead. “You got a fe
ver, bro?”
“I’m fucking serious, man.”
“Look, you went through a lot of shit that night. You lost somebody important to you and that shit isn’t easy. I don’t doubt you saw a car in the parking lot and thought somebody was watching you. I would have been paranoid as fuck too if—"
“There was a nun that night in the baby’s room.”
“What baby’s room?”
“In the apartment where Holly was killed,” I said. “There was a baby in a crib and when I went to check on it, there was a nun in his room. It reached out to me… it was the scariest fucking thing I’ve ever seen before.”
BP sipped from his drink and didn’t say anything.
“I saw the same nun in the hallway at Carla’s building,” I continued. “The same fucking nun, and it chased that kid—”
“Pipe, brother. Stop. You know I’ll ride with you to the end of the world. To other worlds too if that’s what the fuck’s going on, but dude. This is some out there shit. Like really out there. You’re talking supernatural shit.”
“I think that’s what it is,” I finally admitted. “It’s supernatural. Someone put a curse on me.”
I hated saying the words because I knew how insane I sounded and one thing you don’t want to do in an MC is shake up your brothers’ faith in you. That should always be strong. Solid. Unwavering. The way BP looked at me then, with pity, was like a sucker punch to the gut.
“Something real,” BP said, “something concrete… tangible that we should be worried about is why the Russians and Samoans are working together.”
“Yeah,” I replied, and I must have seemed out of it because BP grabbed me by my shoulders and said, “Listen here, man. Whatever the fuck’s going on, we’ll sort it out. We always do. If we have to go searching for this black… whatever it was called, that’s what we’ll do. We’ll find it, and I’ll prove to you it’s not supernatural. It’s just a fucking car driven by a fucking human being. You got it?”
I nodded and he wrapped his arms around me in a hug.
“Thanks, Pres,” I said.