by Sarah Sorana
“Figured,” he grunted.
I reached out and stroked his stubbly cheek.
He rewarded me with another smile.
“May I kiss you?” he asked.
“I really wish you would,” I said.
He leaned forward and captured my mouth in a sweet, tender kiss. My eyes fluttered shut, and my lips parted.
Our bodies sung with desire as our kiss deepened - it was too hard to say which of us deepened it, we were moving together, acting in an achingly slow rhythm.
Unfortunately, I broke the kiss.
“I did say we were on our way home,” I said.
He sighed.
“Yeah.”
“Why’d you tell them about what you do?” I asked, suddenly.
“What do you mean?” he asked.
“My father said he didn’t want me to spend time with you because you were bad news, you sold heroin,” I said.
Merle frowned.
“Megan, I didn’t say that to them,” he said. “All we talked about was you.”
I gave him a funny look.
“How else would my father know about, um, your selling?” I asked.
“No idea,” Merle said, but he looked troubled.
“How’s Catalina?” I asked. The other girl hadn’t really been on my mind, but I felt like she should have been. I was sort of worried about her little sister, but not as much as I probably should be.
Merle and his buddies were good guys, right?
He winced.
“Mad as a wet hen,” he said. “We’re not letting her go, and she’s pissed.”
I hesitated.
“You have her trapped?” I asked. “You have her locked up? Why the hell would you do that?”
“She’s not locked up like you were,” he said immediately. “She’s just not allowed a cell phone or computer.”
“How is she trapped, then?” I demanded. “She’s locked up or she’s not trapped.”
“She’s welcome to leave any time she likes,” he said, “Of course, she has no car, it’s five miles to the nearest neighbor, and she’d have to explain to el Jefe why she left with the enemy.”
I glared at him.
“You’re no better than him!” I spat, all of the anger boiling out of me. “Fuck you, Merle. You and your kind are a bunch of kidnapping pricks.”
He held up his hands.
“Really, we’re not,” he said. “We’re talking to her kid sister and trying to figure out how to get them home and out of our hair. They’ve got family out of the country they can go to. We aren’t going to give her a ride so she can go straight back to el Jefe and tell him all about our main place.”
“Yeah, well, the kid didn’t ask for any of this,” I said.
“I know, she didn’t,” he said, his eyes level and kind. “You didn’t either. Shit happens, and it sucks, and I’m sorry. Honestly, if it was just the older girl, we’d have probably shipped her off already, but we’re trying to make things better for the kid. One of my guys has an old lady who is from Guatamala, we’re going to pay for a flight home to visit her family if she goes with the kid and keeps her safe first.”
“Why?” I asked. “Why not just send them back to el Jefe?”
“It’s a small miracle el Jefe hadn’t sold her already,” he said. “We’re not gonna send a twelve-year-old back to a man who would whore her out, and we’re not gonna have her sneak back across the border with shady coyotes who would probably do the same fucking thing.”
“Aren’t you just a bundle of heroes,” I muttered.
“Come on, Megan, we’re not heroes, but we’re not going to let a little girl get fucked up, either. Catalina knows it, I guaruntee you that if she thought we were going to hurt her sister, they’d have been off into the woods within ten minutes of being alone with an unlocked door.”
“Their door isn’t locked?” I asked, my voice small. “Promise?”
“It’s locked all right, but it’s locked from the inside. They lock us out, and we let them. I promise, sweetheart. Do you want to go talk to them and find out?”
I nodded.
I picked up my phone and sent a quick text to my parents, saying that something had come up and I’d be gone a little longer.
I didn’t bother reading their replies, I knew they’d be pissed, but they’d get over it.
Or, at least, I hoped that they would.
“Yeah,” I said, looking up. “Let’s go.”
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We were mostly silent on the drive out to Merle’s place. The easy conversation that had flowed when we were at the restaurant was all dried up.
I hoped he wasn’t mad at me. I wanted to apologize for yelling at him, for calling him a kidnapper, but the words wouldn’t come.
When I was locked up by el Jefe, I thought about all the things I wanted to say to people, Merle especially. I wanted him to ask if we were dating, if he cared about me, what he thought of me… I wanted to ask how he’d gotten his scar, what his parents were like, all of it.
I thought I’d never shut up, really.
Why was it so hard, just a day later, to so much as open my mouth?
When we pulled up to the same parking spot I’d seen this car in earlier, I knew that something was different. Something was badly wrong.
The air crackled with tension.
Floodlights were on, and dark figures were moving around in the too-bright, too-shadowy stillness of the night.
Merle saw it, too.
“Stay here,” he ordered, cutting the engine and yanking his seatbelt off in a rush to get out of the car.
Two whole seconds alone in a small car made me realize that I couldn’t obey him, I just couldn’t.
I followed him, shutting the door softly.
He half-turned and glared at me, then his face softened ever so slightly and he jerked his head.
“Come on, if you’re coming,” he said. “Don’t say a word, understand? Keep up and keep quiet.”
I nodded, and he seemed satisfied.
We quickly crossed to the buzz of activity. I heard a woman, or a girl, shouting angrily, and a low rumble of men’s voices murmuring in anger.
I stuck to the shadows as Merle stepped into the light.
“What the fuck is going on?” he asked. He didn’t shout, exactly, but his voice carried. It cut through the other noises and rang in the silence that it left.
I saw half a dozen people start to speak.
He raised one hand.
Silence fell again.
He pointed at a grungy-looking man with a faded bandana tied over his long blond-ish hair.
“Jackson, you part of this?”
The man nodded.
He pointed at someone else I couldn’t see.
“You, too. Both of you, come up here.”
He pointed at a patch of ground a few yards from him.
The strange man and Catalina stepped into the light, the crowd of silent bikers parting for them.
Catalina looked rough. Her face was streaked with mascara and tears, her beautiful black hair was in a wild rat’s nest. She stood tall, her fists trembling with rage.
She looked fierce, and proud, and angry.
“Jackson. What happened?” Merle asked, his voice still carrying.
The strange man - Jackson - answered, speaking up to be heard. His voice was pleasant, but not as rich and powerful as Merle’s. More of a quiet assurance. I got the feeling he wasn’t exactly comfortable talking this publicly.
“I went to take a leak,” he started.
No one laughed.
“When I was done, I made a quick circuit of the property,” he went on.
No one said anything, still. Apparently Jackson going on a patrol wasn’t anything out of the ordinary.
“Met up with Bill, and he and I had a difference of fucking opinion.”
He turned to glare over his shoulder.
“I s
ocked him a good one. He didn’t seem to take kindly to that, and tried to bash my head in.”
Merle said nothing.
“I returned the favor, and we ended up fighting out here. Alex looked out the window and came to see, one of that motherfucker’s buddies followed him, one thing led to another…”
He held out his hands in a what-can-you-do motion.
“One thing led to another and I find half my fucking crew brawling each other?” Merle asked, his voice deadly quiet.
“That fucking pendejo was trying to hurt my sister,” Catalina burst out.
Merle immediately focused his attention on her.
“Which pendejo?” he asked.
“Not that one,” she said, pointing at Jackson. “The other one. The other motherfucker. He was trying to hurt my sister, and Jackson bashed him. Good fucking riddance, I hope he dies.”
“I’m not gonna die, cunt,” a new voice said. It was low, and angry, and the man who stepped out of the shadows looked like anyone’s nightmare of a biker.
He staggered up to stand between Jackson and Catalina.
“This fucker and his lying cunt friend fucking beat on me out of nowhere,” he announced.
“That right, Bill?” Merle asked.
“That’s right. I never laid a fucking finger on the Mexican bitch, and my buddies’ll tell you the same,” he said. “If you don’t finally punish this cocksucking maniac and take his cut back, you’ll fucking regret it.”
A few other men stepped forward, nodding and smirking.
“Well,” Merle said. “We appear to be at a motherfucking impasse.”
------------------------------------------
The men stared at him.
The ranks were shifting, men milling about, closer to Bill, closer to Jackson.
Merle raised his chin.
“Don't think I don't see you all, trying to figure out who to stay loyal to,” he said.
He didn't shout. He didn't have to. He was commanding the tense gathering with a low, carrying voice – and a hard eye.
Megan saw Alex quietly move into a guarding position behind Merle. The leader didn't even glance at his man, but gave a quick nod.
“It's a fucking easy decision, isn't it?” he asked. “You stay loyal to me.”
“Yeah?” Bill asked. “Says who?”
Merle crossed the distance between them in two long, fast steps. He grabbed the man's collar and yanked him up onto his toes.
“Says me,” Merle said. He looked around. “I don't care what the fuck Bill was supposed to have done. Bill and Jackson fighting? That's between Bill and Jackson.”
He dropped the bigger man to the ground. When Bill tried to rise, Merle, placed one black leather boot on his shoulder, pinning him down.
“Bill and Jackson getting the rest of you motherfuckers worked up about it? That's my problem. Fuck, what would happen if we got raided and half the gang was laid up from stupid-ass squabbling?”
Alex spoke up from behind Merle, his voice smooth and mocking.
“Well, I do believe that we would be in a delicate position, unable to properly defend ourselves.”
Merle's mouth twisted. It couldn't exactly be called a smile.
Megan was glad to be in the shadows. She hoped no one noticed her. This was getting ugly, and she suddenly realized how dangerous Merle's life was. There was a small part of her that had not really believed that Merle sold heroin. Heroin. It was just... too far outside her experience to be real.
She believed now. It was real. Merle was a truly dangerous man who did dangerous, illegal things. She shuddered.
One of the men that had gathered behind Bill raised his voice, slurred a little. He swayed on his feet and glared at Merle and Alex.
“Who cares if he groped the little whore a bit?” he asked. “Fuck it, give the girl to Bill. Someone like her isn't worth a fight like this. We rescued her, she owes us.”
Jackson reached out and grabbed Catalina's arm as she tried to fling herself at the man who spoke.
Merle didn't say a word.
He took his foot off Bill and walked over to the drunk man.
“I mean it,” he slurred. “Just let him fuck her and get it out of his system. Bill's a good guy, he should get a little fun. We all risked our asses to protect your girl, and what did we get for it? Fucking nothing. Just, just give him the little whore.”
Merle waited patiently for the man to finish speaking.
The drunk seemed to take courage from that, and puff up, as though he'd already won.
Other men, seeing the cold look on Merle's face, drew away from the drunk, ever so slightly.
Merle still didn't say a word.
He pulled his fist back and struck the man full in the face.
The man reeled, but managed to stay on his feet. His hand moved to his mouth, pulled away, and he looked at the blood on his fingers.
He swayed, he glared, he opened his mouth.
Merle struck him again.
The man kept his footing again, and swung wildly at Merle.
The biker gang leader easily dodged the punch. The blow he returned connected soundly, and the man yelled in pain and anger.
Merle shoved the man onto the ground and kicked him viciously in the stomach.
Megan winced, and then saw the shadowy form of Bill start to rise from the ground.
She forgot her own danger, she forgot Merle's orders to stay still and silent.
“Merle, behind you!” she yelled.
He spun around, saw Bill, and walked over, grabbing the man by the hair before he could get all the way to his feet.
With a grip on his hair and the back of his leather jacket, Merle dragged Bill over to the other man and flung him on top of his friend.
“I don't care who fights who,” he said, his voice even deeper, even thicker with fury. “I have no proof who started this. I'm ending it, though. I'm ending this shit right fucking now.”
He kicked Bill again as the other man tried to rise.
“You two cowards have been talking shit about me, stirring up trouble, being general pains in my ass for months. I let you mouth off, because you were a bunch of hot air distracting the other windbags. Made my job easier.”
A kick.
“This? Challenging me in front of half the fucking gang? This will not fucking stand.”
He stepped back.
“Go on. If you want to rule this gang, fucking fight me. Hell, I'll let you both try to take me at once.”
The two men staggered to their feet and charged Merle, bellowing their rage.
He evaded them, using his smaller, more nimble form to step out of the way and let them expend their energy in angry confusion.
Bill, less drunk, took a deep breath, got his bearings, and waited for his friend to charge the leader.
Megan gasped and winced at the sick crack of skin on skin as Bill's fist connected with Merle's face.
Most of the men stood still, a respectful distance behind, watching their leader take on two large, angry men. Alex and Jackson, though, crossed quietly over to where Megan was standing, Jackson towing Catalina along with him.
“Never seen a fight before?” Alex asked. “You look a little sick.”
She winced as she watched the men grapple a few dozen feet away.
“Not like this,” she said.
“Not pretty,” Jackson said. “Merle's doing a good job, though. Fighting them both was a brilliant move.”
“In what universe?” Megan snapped.
Jackson raised his eyebrows.
“In this one,” Catalina shot back. “Bill was already hurt, if he'd fought him, and lost, someone could have said it wasn't a fair fight. That's not supposed to matter, but when these assholes want to hate a leader, they call him a pussy. Merle can’t look like a pussy.”
Alex grinned at her. “My dear girl, you have the right of it.”
“I’m not your dear girl,” Catalina said. She looked like she wanted to spit o
n the ground, but Jackson caught her eye, and she looked away.