Chaos

by J. C. Cliff

“I’m doing it for revenge. I’m doing it because I’m a sick fuck that wants to torture that bastard,” I declared.

  “Still, everyone needs closure,” he insisted.

  “What the fuck do you know about closure, Bianci? You ever lose someone you love? Don’t give me that shit about your girl because that shit was temporary. She didn’t drop dead never to be seen again,” I sneered, angrily.

  “No I haven’t…but Jack, killing Jimmy isn’t going to bring back Danny. Sure, it might make you feel better, but that shit is temporary,” he said, throwing my words back in my face.

  “Why you pleading Jimmy’s case?” I asked suspiciously.

  “Only case I’m pleading is yours,” he said firmly. “I saw Vic lose control, become a fucking monster, all because he was trying to avenge Val’s death. In the end he lost everything that mattered and that cocksucker who ordered the hit is still living and breathing,” he argued. “Just don’t want to see you lose control.”

  Anthony had no idea I was manic depressive. He didn’t understand how easily it was for me to lose control.

  “There was a woman. I remember her being brought out of the house on a stretcher right before it blew,” he started.

  The fucking girl.

  Vic mentioned something about her, said there was an address in the envelope where I could find her. I didn’t give two fucks about the pussy my brother was fucking. He wasn’t married, didn’t have kids with her, she was probably just some prissy bitch he met in the bureau. The fact that my brother died and that bitch, whoever the fuck she was, didn’t call me to be at his funeral was bullshit.

  “Your point?” I growled in frustration, running my fingers through my hair.

  “You should reach out to her,” he stated.

  “Why the fuck would I do that?” I asked, losing my patience with this conversation.

  He raised an eyebrow and silently stared at me.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” I snarled.

  “All I’m saying is maybe she can clue you in on the last few years of your brother’s life, give you some insight on the shit you missed out on,” he countered.

  “It don’t matter what I missed, Bianci. It won’t change that he’s gone—and making nice with the last piece of ass he had, won’t bring him back,” I said, making up my mind.

  “Ever think she’s hurting just like you? Grieving for what she’s lost?” he suggested, while shrugging his shoulders. “I know it’s not the same but when I was away, Adrianna and my mother kept in touch. I didn’t find out until I came home but I was happy they had one another. Maybe she wasn’t just some broad, maybe she mattered to your brother and if she did I think he’d rest easy knowing someone was looking out for her,” he explained.

  I stared at him blankly for a moment before shaking my head.

  “You’re fucking whipped,” I stated. “Look at you, believing in fairytales and shit. You probably think fucking unicorns are real,” I continued, disgusted. “Glad you’re happy, brother, but stop pushing rainbows and all that good shit, this way.”

  He chuckled, holding up his hands in mock defeat.

  “Just my opinion,” he said.

  “Yeah, well, I didn’t ask for it,” I responded, pulling my gloves out of my pocket and slipping my hands into them before grabbing my helmet from the counter. I pierced him with a steady glare. “We all good?”

  “We’re good,” he confirmed, nodding his head.

  “Good,” I said, fitting my helmet to my head. “I’ll be in touch,” I added as I turned to leave.

  “She was hospitalized for a few weeks after the fire,” he whispered, from behind me causing me to freeze mid-stride. “Danny’s body wasn’t released to her due to the investigation,” he added.

  I waited for him to continue, to pile more shit onto the plate he served up but he didn’t. I shook my head, dismissing the information and strode out of his gym.

  Fucking Bianci.

  Fucking faceless girl.

  I straddled my bike, secured my helmet, and revved my engine. I gripped the handlebars of my bike and bit the inside of my cheek before mumbling a stream of curses and turning off my bike. There was no logical explanation why I turned my bike off and stormed back inside Anthony’s gym. No fucking reason other than I was a glutton for punishment.

  He lifted an eyebrow as he stared at me.

  “Talk,” I growled, dropping my helmet onto the counter and bracing my hands against it.

  “What do you want to know?” he asked, evenly.

  “Everything,” I muttered, turning around to meet his gaze.

  Anthony blew out a breath, taking a seat on one of the bench press machines. “I went to see Vic. It was during the trial and he was still running things from inside. I told him everything, told him you were never going to kill the Fed because he was your brother. I admitted that I was going to turn the other cheek because your word was enough for me, as long as the investigation was dead, that was all that mattered,” he paused, running his fingers through his hair. “He sent me away,” he continued. “Thought for sure he would order a hit on me and a part of me felt like I deserved whatever it was he had in store for me. Not because I went behind his back but because I gave you my word, I would help you and I let you down. Vic was my last hope in getting the goods on Jimmy,” he said, holding my gaze. “I remembered the woman,” he sighed. “I figured since I couldn’t deliver the culprit, I could deliver Danny and at least you’d be able to give your brother a proper funeral.”

  I flinched, I know his words didn’t mean to sting, but they did.

  “So, I went in search of her. She’s like a goddamn phantom,” he hissed, scratching at his jaw. “She was rushed to the hospital that night because she had been badly burned but she was a Jane Doe. No ID on her and if she had anything in the house it had been destroyed. The hospital was a dead end, they just told me she had been there for a few weeks. Fucking patient confidentiality bullshit. The only reason I was able to get her address was because your brother had a second driver listed on his car insurance policy. I followed up on the name, and got the address listed with the DMV. I guess I expected a house, maybe a two-family with a side apartment, didn’t expect the broad to live in the fucking projects.”

  I shook my head instantly. “This is a big fucking waste of time, Bianci. Danny wasn’t the type to date some hood rat from the projects,” I gritted.

  “You want to let me finish?” he asked, leveling me with a stare. “It was easy to put a face to the phantom. She sticks out like a sore thumb in that neighborhood, radiating innocence with that pale skin and blonde hair. Your brother’s girl is no hood rat,” he said.

  I snapped my mouth shut and stared at him.

  “She works at some diner on Court Street,” he continued. “I only followed her a handful of times but from what I can tell she’s a loner,” he added.

  “So what? She’s not my problem, Bianci,” I said, shrugging my shoulders. “If she meant something to him then he should’ve taken care of her. He should’ve set her up in case something happened to him.”

  “Look, we don’t know the details of their relationship. It’s possible they just met before he passed. What I do know is that she didn’t bury him. Last I checked, they still hadn’t released his body. Not to her, not to anyone,” he said.

  I stared at him for a moment, taking in his words, trying to decide what the fuck to do with them or if I should do anything at all. I meant it when I said she wasn’t my problem. I had enough people to take care of in my life. I did my part looking out for all the lost souls I’ve encountered, didn’t see the need to take in a stray.

  “That all?” I asked, pushing off the counter and straightening my stance.

  “Dee’s,” he stated.

  I squinted, deciphering the name. “The little hole in the wall diner under the overpass?”

  He nodded.

  “What about it?” I huffed, not in the mood for riddles. Fuck, I wasn’t in the mood for mu
ch of anything.

  “She works overnight, goes in around eleven, leaves about ten the next morning,” he added.

  I glanced down at my boots for a beat before lifting my eyes to Anthony, staring at him silently. There were no words left between us. He said his peace and now it was up to me to decide what to do with it. I gave him a nod, my version of thank you, and turned to leave.

  Dee’s Diner.

  I knew the joint, back in the day it used to be the place Satan’s Knights congregated at after a run. Used to have the best fucking coffee in downtown Brooklyn.

  I wonder if they still did.

  On the open road, my mind drifted back to the night Danny’s house went up in flames. I didn’t remember much, just the amber flames before the house crumbled with my brother trapped inside. I sure as hell didn’t remember there being a woman. I didn’t give a fuck then and I shouldn’t give a fuck now.

  I didn’t know what the purpose of me going to Dee’s Diner was. But I knew that’s where I’d park my bike. I wasn’t going to make nice with some broad that my brother dipped his dick inside. But maybe I’d ask her why the hell he was still sitting with a toe tag in the fucking morgue.

  Hell, I didn’t even know what she fucking looked like.

  Radiating innocence with that pale skin and blonde hair.

  I turned my bike onto Court Street, riding straight toward Dee’s Diner. I could see the dated diner in the distance, the first letter on the sign flickering.

  I’d order a killer cup of coffee and maybe a slice of pie.

  Cherry pie.

  Chapter Four

  Present Day

  JACK “BULLDOG” PARRISH

  “Settle down,” I demanded, pounding the gavel viciously against the wood, trying to reign my boys in so we could hold church. I lifted my eyes to glance at the clock and shook my head. I was already fucking late.

  “Goddamn it, settle down boys,” I growled, their boisterous voices lowering as their eyes settled on me.

  “For fuck’s sake you’re like a bunch of bitches at a beauty parlor,” I hissed, throwing the gavel down and leaning back against my chair. “Now, let’s get down to business,” I said, diverting my eyes to our treasurer, Pipe. “How’d we do this week?”

  Pipe leaned forward, glancing around the table at the brothers before cracking a grin. “We did good this week,” he declared, sliding envelopes across the table to the men. “Cain’s old man got his hands on some impressive guns. We need to move them quick though, before we get any heat from ATF.”

  I glanced at Blackie. “Get on that, see if Gold has any use for them,” I said, watching as he lifted his eyes to mine.

  “That’s not going to get Jimmy Gold’s attention these days,” he ground out, leveling me with a steady glare. “I’m working on it.”

  I knew Blackie wasn’t on board with me offing the mobster—for no other reason than protecting the club from blindly walking into a war with the mob. It wasn’t a question of me killing Jimmy, he understood my need for revenge, but rather he was concerned by the consequences that would undoubtedly fall on the club.

  “It’s about time to decide if we patch in Riggs,” Blackie said, changing the subject.

  “Agreed,” I replied. It was only fair that the man get his patch. He’s been sitting on Bianci for nearly five months now and has never given me shit. I stared down the table. “Yay or Nay on Riggs getting his colors,” I asked as I looked from member to member, their votes unanimous.

  “Fuck yes, kid deserves it,” Blackie said, finally.

  “Bones, get the little fuck over here so we can deliver the news,” I said. “Pipe, plan the kid a party,” I ordered. Lighting a cigarette, I slammed the gavel down on the table, adjourning the meeting.

  “Aye, get the boy the finest pussy around,” Pipe added.

  I stood up, grabbing my leather jacket that was draped over my chair and shrugged it on. “Tomorrow night we’ll patch him in,” I added.

  “Where you hurrying off too?” Blackie asked, not lifting his head.

  “Yeah, man, you’re always running out on us,” Pipe chimed in.

  “Does the Bulldog have a piece of tail he’s chasing? Pretty little pussy you hiding from us?” Blackie taunted.

  I fixed my eyes onto him, watching as he bit the inside of his cheek so he wouldn’t smile.

  “Fuck off,” I growled, pointing between him and Pipe. “Set everything up for tomorrow.”

  “No worries,” Blackie said, giving into his laughter. “Get some for me too, brother.”

  Pipe chuckled and gyrated, air-fucking the table. “Give it to her hard, Bulldog,” he said, throwing back his head and moaning.

  I rolled my eyes and headed for the door as Blackie and Pipe began barking, the rest of the guys chiming in and starting to howl behind me.

  *~*~*

  I parked my bike in the usual spot, dismounted and strode toward the diner. I glanced over my shoulder, looking around the span of the parking lot for one of my brothers, sure that one, if not all, had followed me. If they did, I would catch so much shit for this. The truth was, nothing I said would justify why I spent five nights a week sitting in this dive. I don’t know why the fuck I’m here. It’s not like I was doing such a bang-up job getting information out of Danny’s girl. I sat at that counter night after night with my thumb up my ass, staring at her like some fucking creep. She was fucking gorgeous. Miles of blonde hair I wanted to fist in my hands, and creamy white skin I wanted to brand with my teeth. Nothing I ever expected Danny to sink his claws into.

  Lucky bastard.

  May he rest in peace.

  Her body was a mystery under those baggy clothes she wore, making me want to rip them off of her and see what she was hiding. That girl was hiding more than her body though. She had a shitload of secrets—it was as obvious as the body she was hiding beneath those clothes. It was enough to make a sane man lose control.

  Fortunately, I wasn’t sane and losing control over some pretty blonde wasn’t an issue.

  A shrill scream tore me away from my thoughts and I pushed through the door of the diner. A couple huddled in the corner booth looked toward the kitchen in horror. I followed their eyes, stalking around the counter to where the kitchen was and stopped in my tracks.

  Reina was holding her arm over the hot grill, shaking her head uncontrollably as she cried.

  “No, no, no,” she chanted. “Not again. Please not again,” she begged, tears falling from her eyes.

  “Hey,” I whispered, advancing toward her. I placed my hand on her shoulder causing her to flinch. She turned around to face me and took a retreating step backward, trembling as she held her arm. Her eyes were dull and for a split moment I was transcended to a time where I could relate to what she was feeling. I recognized that lost look in her eyes, seen it a million times before, whenever I looked at myself in the mirror. I realized in that moment Reina reminded me of myself whenever I had a manic episode—although I didn’t remember much of my episodes. Usually, I woke up to be told the awful truth of my actions. I knew enough to know she was looking at me and her body sensed I was there but her mind didn’t. I remember bits and pieces, objects and people surrounding me but never could hear their words. They were just there. And right now, in this moment, I was just there to Reina. Just an object.

  “Hey, you can’t be back here,” the cook shouted, walking into the kitchen from the back door. “Reina, you know better than to let the customers back here,” he hissed, walking toward the grill. “Shit, I asked you to watch the food!” He said, in disgust as he grabbed the tongs and removed the charred remnants of food, dropping them onto a dish. “Can’t step out for one damn minute,” he muttered.

  I lifted my eyes to him and glared at him viciously. “She fucking burned her arm,” I growled, before settling my eyes back on Reina.

  Her eyes were closed as she shook her head, battling her demons, tears escaping from the corners of her eyes.

  “Reina, hello? Eart
h to Reina,” the cook said, rolling his eyes. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

  It took every ounce of control I could muster not to slam this pricks face into the grill and singe the motherfucker’s face off. I didn’t know where the sense to protect Reina from this jerk off came from, wasn’t sure I liked it either. I couldn’t help myself, so I lunged for his throat. My feet didn’t get a chance to move, frozen in place at the sound of her gentle plea.

  “Please take me away from here,” she whispered, her brown eyes pleading with mine. Killing the cook became a distant thought, replaced by the unexplainable need to save her from herself. Like a moth drawn to a flame I was at her mercy.

  “Let me take a look at your arm,” I whispered.

  “Please,” she repeated, letting go of my wrist as she wrapped her hand around her injured arm.

  I looked at her for another moment, glancing down at her arm before diverting my eyes over her shoulder at the cook, daring him to say another word. He opened his mouth before his eyes fell back to Reina and snapped it shut again.

  “Where’s her stuff?” I asked him roughly.

  He tipped his chin toward the diner and I placed my hand on the small of her back. “Let’s go, Sunshine,” I murmured.

  She hesitated for a second before she relented and let me guide her back to the front of the diner. I bent down, grabbing her purse and jacket from underneath the counter then rose to my full height. She robotically took her jacket from me, draping it over the arm of her uninjured hand. I looked down at her arm and caught a glimpse of the raw flesh. Already it had a sheen to it as the skin stretched and changed to a nasty shade of purple. Realization set in, crippling me as it became clear she hadn’t just fallen victim to a simple accident in the kitchen of the diner. She was reliving the traumatic experience she shared with my brother.

  I took her injured hand, felt her body tense at my touch, and guided her out of the diner toward my bike. I slid my helmet from one of the handlebars and turned around, offering it for her.