Clutch (Burning Saints MC)

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Clutch (Burning Saints MC) Page 8

by Jack Davenport


  “And?” Wolf asked.

  “And, what?” Minus asked.

  “Aren’t you forgetting anything?”

  “Please?” Minus added.

  “No, like information of what we might be walking into,” Wolf grunted.

  “No idea,” Minus said.

  “And, we’re squaring off against a possibly hostile, homicidal giant, simply because those pussy Fire Dogs told you too?” Wolf asked dryly.

  “Yes, Wolf, the Dogs of Fire have asked for a return favor. I’m not sure what Kitty’s got up his sleeve, or how he may be prepared for us. I just know that we’ve been charged with grabbing him and getting a computer key code from him. This information is gonna help the Dogs get their boy Hatch outta jail. Apart, from Kitty’s location, that’s all the information I’ve got. The only thing you need to know is that there’s a Wolf that needs to fetch a fucking Kitty, so let’s go.”

  Wolf glared at Minus and got up slowly. As we left, the new redheaded waitress, the one that Minus had assumed I was banging, walked by, toward the bar with a tray of clean bar glasses. Minus turned and looked at me puzzled. He opened his mouth to speak, but I cut him off asking “We taking Five or surface streets?”

  Minus shot me a look while calling out to the others. “You guys go on out to the bikes, we’ll be there in a second,” he said before turning back to me. “I thought she was back at your place.”

  “For the record, I never said anything. You were the one that made assumptions.” I said.

  “Then who was that at your place this morning?” he asked.

  “Who said there was anyone?” I replied.

  “I did, due the fact that you’re being cagey with me, and that you were MIA for most of the picnic,” Minus said.

  My eyes shot to his.

  “Yeah, I noticed,” he said. “It’s kinda what got my curiosity up. What else, other than a new woman on the hunting grounds, could pull you away from a club picnic?”

  “Ants. I fucking hate ants,” I replied dryly.

  “I guess I assumed that with “Red” showing up at the picnic on Friday night, and her being just your type and all, it was her. But now that I think about it, there was another new face at the picnic on Friday. Someone we all know and love, but who’s never been to the compound before.”

  “Look, Minus—”

  “But that couldn’t possibly be who you snuck off with, because you were specifically told to stay away from her.”

  “That’s right,” I said. “So, it couldn’t be her.”

  Minus stared me down, before ending the conversation with, “Then I suppose the mystery continues.”

  We rode out to Kitty’s location and checked in with Sweet Pea, who Minus had sent out earlier as a scout.

  “He’s still in there,” he said.”

  “You sure, Pea? I don’t want to go in there to find him gone and a booby trap left in his place.”

  “His place could be booby trapped?” Big Pecker asked, a little too loudly.

  “Shut the fuck up, Man Tits,” Wolf growled.

  “Lay off him, or you and I are gonna have a problem Wolf,” I snapped.

  “You a titties man, Clutch?” Wolf said, smirking.

  “Lay off, or the next time you have a titty in your mouth, it’ll be through a straw,” I replied.

  “Both of you, save it for Kitty. You’re gonna need all that piss and vinegar for him. Let’s go. Follow me and keep it down.”

  Sweat Pea led us up to Kitty’s apartment and I pulled out my 9mm. Wolf, Ropes, Sweet Pea, and Big Pecker all had their stunning devices set to go. Little Pecker was set to stand as lookout in the hallway. We also had cable ties, cuffs, and a vile of Thiopental I’d procured from a chick I knew that worked at the Portland Zoo. This shit could drop a rhino, so I knew it’d be just fine for Kitty, if it didn’t kill him.

  “Okay, on three,” Minus said. “Three, two—”

  “That’s a new door, and I’d rather not replace it,” a voice crackled through a hidden speaker.

  “Kitty?” Minus called out.

  “Yeah, I can see you guys on my front door cam. I’ve also had eyes on the dipshit you posted out front for two hours. I figured you’d be by once I saw his patch. Let me buzz you in.”

  “Okay.” Minus shrugged, and three dead bolts later, Kitty opened the door.

  “Hey, Minus, come on in. What’s up, Clutch? Wolf. Long time, guys,” Kitty said smiling broadly as he shook each of our hands. His massive mitts covering ours.

  “Not too much, Kitty. I was surprised to hear you were back in town,” Minus said cautiously.

  “So, you thought you’d throw me a surprise welcome back cattle prod party?” he asked, looking down at the electric pitchforks of the angry villagers.

  “Hey, man, we just didn’t know if this was a friendly neighborhood, you know what I mean?” Minus said.

  “Or, you came here prepared to fuck my shit up, Burning Saints style,” Kitty said.

  “Sure, or that,” I said.

  “The question is, why?” Kitty asked, taking a seat. “Seriously, guys, you can put those down and relax. There’s beer in the fridge, but please don’t touch any of the gear.”

  I gave the guys the nod and collected their stun guns, which I placed back in my backpack. I looked around his shitbox apartment, and it was lined with racks of high end looking tech. The place looked like what NASA looked like... if it had taken up shop in a crack house.

  “I know, the place is hell, but the rent is cheap, the neighbors keep to themselves, and until now, nobody knew where I was,” Kitty said. “Which leads me to wonder how you found me, which then leads back to my first question, which still remains unanswered; why the fuck are you here, Minus?”

  “I found you through the Dogs of Fire,” Minus said.

  “Oh, good,” Kitty said enthusiastically.

  “Good?” I choked out.

  “Yeah, I have something for them.”

  “What’s that?” Minus asked.

  “I’ve been expecting Booker to reach out to me. I’ll give it to him,” Kitty replied. “I ascertain, you fine gentlemen are his official reach out.”

  “The Dogs said you have a key code that they need.”

  “Booker received and decoded my message. I’m glad to know he hasn’t lost a step,” Kitty said happily.

  “So, let me get this straight. You wanted them to find you? And you’re happy to give them the code they need?” Minus asked.

  “Yep, that’s right.”

  “Then why go through the trouble of helping Los Psychos frame Hatch in the first place?”

  “Because, they paid me a shit ton of money, and because it got me back at the table in Portland. I also knew that I could leave a breadcrumb trail that Booker and the Dogs could follow but would leave Los Psychos in the dark.”

  “So, you’re not running with Los Psychos?” I asked.

  “Fuck those dirtbags. I’ve been using them to bankroll my new set up. I didn’t need a tenth of this gear for the job they hired me for, but they don’t know that. As a matter of fact, as soon as I’m clear of them, I’m going to activate a virus that I’ve imbedded at every level of their network. It’s going make every one of their laptops, servers, and cell phones become paperweights. I’ve also been running faulty backups for them without them knowing, so when all their data is fried, it’ll be gone forever.”

  “What about a cloud backup?” Minus asked.

  “Oh, you mean the account I set up that’s really sending all their data to a nice group of Russian gentlemen I know? They have instructions to extort every penny they can from Los Psychos once I give the word, and once they pay, they’ll delete the data anyway. Los Psychos won’t be able to do a damn thing about it, and I’ll be in the clear.”

  “That’s some cold-blooded shit, Kitty,” I said.

  “I’ve learned to channel my rage to more positive streams,” he replied.

  “I’m not sure that killer Mexican biker ga
ngs and Russian hackers are positive streams, but point taken,” I said.

  “Believe me when I tell you that Los Psychos are merely cogs in the wheel of my plan.”

  “What plan is that?”

  “To ride with the Dogs of Fire again,” Kitty replied as serious as a fuckin’ heart attack.

  “That may prove to be a little problematic, Kitty. The Dogs are about as pissed at you as Los Psychos are gonna be.”

  “Trust me, I know how to handle Los Psychos, and from what I hear, you do, too. Be careful. They have a hard-on for the Dogs of Fire, and a super hard-on for the Burning Saints, so you both need to watch your backs.”

  “Yeah, we kind of figured that. Any ideas on what they have planned for us?” Minus asked.

  “Plenty of ideas, but none of the kind that come for free,” Kitty replied.

  “We can pay you, what’s the price?”

  “You seem to be in tight with the Dogs of Fire, you get me back in with them and I’ll tell you everything I know about their plans against your club.”

  “Jesus Christ himself isn’t tight enough with the Dogs of Fire to get you back in with them,” Minus replied.

  “Then let me ride with you. I haven’t ridden with a club since the Dogs kicked me out, and it’ll give them a chance to see I’ve changed.”

  “I don’t know, Kitty. Crow and Hatch would lose their shit on me if I let you ride with us. We’re supposed to get the code and get you outta here.”

  “Well, Minus, the way I see it,” Kitty said grinning from ear to ear. “You’ve got two choices. I can either give you the code key for free, and we can all ride out of here together, or you can try and redistribute those glow sticks before I start tearing into you and your boys.”

  * * *

  Gina

  This must be what a teenage boy feels like sneaking out of his girlfriend’s room.

  I quietly gathered up my stuff and slinked out Clutch’s sliding door that led to his side yard. I could hear Clutch’s muffled voice, and hoped he’d stall long enough for me to make my escape. The last thing I wanted was to get Clutch in trouble or to ruin my doctor/patient relationship with Minus and the club.

  Oh, shit! Did I just sleep with a patient?

  I racked my brains and was surprised to realize that I’d never treated Clutch for so much as a flu shot. He’d been around the clinic with Cutter, but never for himself. I suppose the fact that I didn’t have a chart for him explained why I didn’t know his real name.

  Oh, good. I didn’t sleep with a patient. Just an outlaw biker. That’s muuuch better.

  I waited until I’d walked two blocks away before calling an Uber to pick me up just to make sure I was well out of sight. My hasty retreat had caused me to begin to “sober up” from the weekend’s events. Fortunately, I’d have the rest of the day to recover, and then mentally beat myself up for every stupid thing I’d said and done over the past forty-eight hours.

  “You know what? Fuck that,” I said, forgetting to use my inner dialogue.

  “I’m sorry. Am I going the wrong way?” my startled Uber driver cried out.

  “No, I’m so sorry. I was just talking to myself. Too loudly, apparently. You’re doing great. Five stars all the way,” I said, giving him a thumbs-up. I was losing it, but I barely cared. I didn’t want to go home and beat myself up for sleeping with a biker. It felt good to be with Clutch. Really good, and I was a grown-ass, single adult, who had every right in the world to have a perfect stranger ram himself into my cock-starved pussy if I wanted.

  I began to replay the events of the weekend in my mind and felt myself getting wet all over again. Never had the mere thought of a man, any man, made my body react like this. My attraction to Clutch was rooted in some sort of primal urge. As much as I was mentally starting to shut down and crave being back at home, physically I burned more with each mile that came between us. My phone buzzed, and I laughed when I saw an incoming text from N. Chriznowskovitz, esq.

  N.: Just wanted to make sure U R OK.

  Gina: I’m fine. In a car, headed back to my place. You’re a lawyer now?

  N.: No, I’m a criminal. That’s how I was able 2 steal UR phone and change my contact name. The esq comes in handy when U R sleeping with a Dr.

  Gina: Thank you for this weekend.

  N.: The weekend’s not over. Dinner tonight?

  Gina: Not a good idea.

  N.: Eating dinner is a bad idea?

  Gina: Not what I meant.

  N.: Dessert?

  I sat for a moment trying to think of a way out before realizing that I didn’t want one. The only thing I wanted to do (well, not the only thing) was to have dessert with Clutch who, from what I could see, was a kind, thoughtful, caring person. When we were together, I saw little to no traces of the scary biker man I’d perceived him as. In fact, I was having a very hard time remembering him in that light at all.

  Gina: Okay.

  I hit send and swallowed hard.

  N.: I’ll text you later and swing by your place.

  What the hell have I gotten myself into?

  Clutch

  We’d stopped for gas, so I’d taken a few moments to text the doc. I only meant to make sure she was okay, but before I could help myself, I’d asked her out to dinner. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. Minus was already suspicious, and here I was adding fuel to the fire. Why the fuck should I care if she’s okay? Usually, the idea of some chick sneaking out without a word after mind-blowing sex would be great, but clearly Eldie wasn’t just some chick. I slipped my phone into my pocket just as Minus approached.

  “So, whatta you gonna tell Hatch?” I asked.

  “About Kitty riding with us? I’m not sure that it matters much. I’m pretty sure no matter what I say, he’s gonna go ape shit,” Minus said.

  “No fucking kidding,” I said, topping off the tank, and replacing the fuel nozzle back on the pump.”

  “Make sure you use your business card and get a receipt,” Minus said.

  Great, more Burning Saints, Incorporated bullshit.

  “Fuck me with a... with a... what the fuck are those things called? You know, those old timey wooden things where you slide the little beads to help you count.”

  “An abacus,” Minus replied.

  “Yeah! Fuck me with an abacus, Minus,” I said.

  “I know, I know. Just get a receipt and keep track of your miles,” he said walking away.

  We headed back to the Sanctuary to wrap up the mayhem of the annual picnic. I’d hoped to be out of there by seven o’ clock at the latest. I wasn’t sure how I’d be able to get away any earlier without tipping off Minus, but I knew I had to see Eldie again as soon as possible.

  * * *

  We finally wrapped up everything at the Sanctuary around 9:15, and I texted Eldie that I was on my way to pick her up. I rode back to my place first, so I could get changed and park Charlene in the garage, as she was gonna spend the evening in.

  Eldie buzzed me up when I arrived and just about knocked me out when she came to the door. She always looked amazing regardless of what she was wearing. Granted, I’d never once seen her in anything more formal than a doctor’s coat, yet she always looked like a movie star. Tonight was no exception. She was dressed in jeans and a dark blue hoodie with her hair in a ponytail, and she couldn’t have been hotter if she were in a red cocktail dress.

  “Will this be warm enough for riding tonight, or should I get a coat?” she asked.

  “Charlene’s back at home tonight,” I replied.

  “Aww,” she said in a pouty voice, her bottom lip sticking out in a way that made me want to bite it.

  “C’mon, beautiful,” I said, putting an arm around her, guiding us toward the elevator.

  We made our way downstairs and out to the guest lot where my 1971 Plymouth Barracuda was parked.

  “Eldie, I would like to introduce you to Lucille,” I said, motioning to my midnight blue beauty. “She’s my pride and joy.”

 
“Oh, great. I have yet another lady to compete with?” she asked.

  “Trust me, Doc, you have no competition.”

  “I thought Charlene was your one true love,” Eldie teased.

  “She is, as far as bikes are concerned, but Lucille is my number one ride. The machine I’ve spent the most time and attention on, not to mention money. You wouldn’t know it by looking at her fine ass now, but when I found her she was in the roughest shape imaginable.”

  “Then, why did you buy her?”

  “Because I could see the beauty hiding underneath all the rust and dents.”

  “How?” she asked.

  I grinned. “That’s my gift. I can look at a machine and know instantly if it’s worth scrapping or fixing.”

  “And she was a fixer, huh?”

  “Yes, she was. My Lucille,” I said.

  “‘Anything built like that just gotta be named Lucille,’” Eldie said, quoting Cool Hand Luke.

  “I’m sorry, how the hell do you know that movie?” I asked, utterly stunned.

  “My dad was a huge film buff. After the divorce, we’d spend a lot of our weekends watching movies together,” she said, with a sad smile.

  “Your folks split up, huh? I’m sorry,” I said.

  “Thanks.”

  “You only saw your pops on the weekends? Was that some sort of custody thing?”

  “No, I lived with him full time. He worked long hours during the week, so the weekends were about the only time I really got to spend any time with him,” she said.

  “What about your mom? Where was she?” I asked.

  “Mom was... well, Mom was off taking care of Mom,” she said in a detached tone.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to pry,” I said, seeing that I’d hit a sore spot.

  “No, it’s okay,” she said, putting her hand on my arm. “My dad began showing signs of early onset Alzheimer’s when I was a freshman in high school. By my junior year, my parents’ marriage was a wreck and my mom took off.”

  “Took off?” I asked, my face beginning to heat up.

  “She said my dad’s illness was more than she’d signed up for, and that she wasn’t equipped to be a single parent, so she moved to an ashram in New Mexico, and served him divorce papers via the mail, a year later.”

 

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