by Hazel Parker
“We’re here, according to your boyfriend’s statement. Is this the place?”
I looked out of the corner of my eye.
“Yes.”
I got out, not saying a word to Marcel. I didn’t have the right to say a word to Marcel. I’d ruined his life because of my failures.
I hadn’t just gotten burned. I’d burned down the forest and everyone in it as a result.
Like I said, I guess I should have just hung out with people whom I didn’t care about. If it was inevitable that I was going to hurt someone, then maybe I could at least earn some money on the way.
Maybe I needed to go back to my old life for real this time.
Chapter 17: Marcel
At least it was familiar.
At least I knew what the interior of a jail cell looked like. At least I knew the procedures, the holding, all that jazz.
But this time, I got lucky. A procedural error meant that I got to walk out at three that morning. God bless Biggie for coming to get me at that hour. At least he wasn’t stupid enough to risk getting on a motorcycle after the party; he had come in an Uber.
I didn’t feel any special sense of relief, though, for avoiding jail time because of a procedural error. I instead felt like an enormous idiot.
I knew Christine had drinking problems. Had I been a gentleman, had I listened to her, had I actually cared about her and not just seen an opportunity for sex, I wouldn’t have given her the shot glass and the beer. Was I a Savage Saint, or was I just a fucking savage?
Did I really like this girl, or did I just like her pussy?
She probably thought I hated her guts. In her spot, I probably would have thought the same. But I didn’t. I hated myself more for letting her get to that spot.
I hated myself for not trying to better understand her drinking problems so I could account for them when I helped her. I hated myself for putting her on my bike and in a spot where she could look bad. I wasn’t lying when I said I didn’t trust NYC taxi drivers, but if that was the case, why didn’t I just get in the car with her and make sure she got home safe?
That was on me, all on me. I had fucked up.
And this was why, I soon realized, that Uncle was right in a way. He may have gone about it in an awful way, but he was right. His money, his club. My idea, but that did not mean I was suddenly ready to run a motorcycle club. It just meant that I had a stroke of inspiration.
But inspiration did not mean I could lead. Leadership wasn’t rah-rah speeches. It was leading by example.
And what kind of an example did I set other than someone who didn’t think things through closely and hurt others around me as a result?
When I woke up on Saturday morning in the office of the club, I looked out at the repair shop. It looked very much like the club had the prior week. Naked bodies, empty beer bottles, and a bunch of people who weren’t actually yet prospects or officers of the Savage Saints. Uncle was moving, but his back was turned to me, so I couldn’t quite tell if it was just him moving in his sleep or him actually waking up.
And then, as if to just make my morning an even bigger shit in the pot, the knocking that had been there a week before came once again.
It was like my worst fucking nightmare had come to pass. I sluggishly rose before anyone else could answer, opened the office door, motioned for the one other person waking to lay down, and went to the front.
Sure as shit, standing there with his usual ugly smirk, with a body that I could have snapped in half with two fingers, stood Kyle.
“You’re a lucky man, brother,” he said. “I heard what happened last night. Trying to drive a woman home while you were intoxicated? That’s low, even for you.”
“I never blew above the legal limit,” I said. “They just wanted me on reckless driving. I didn’t drive drunk. You know full well they just wanted to get me because of a target.”
“Hey, I am not a cop, nor am I a prosecutor, so I do not know such things. I can only assume that your little gang here pulled some strings.”
“We are not a fucking gang.”
Kyle leaned back in mock surprise.
“Cursing at a politician? Are you sure that’s a smart thing to do?”
Then he leaned forward, lowering his voice.
“Especially since you’re going to need me now more than ever.”
“We don’t need you, Kyle. No one needs you. You’re a fucking disgrace to the Stone family. You’ve always been a weasel. What makes you think we’d need your sorry ass now?”
Kyle snorted.
“I will pretend, because I am a generous man, that your words are the result of a hangover necessitated by your poor decisions rather than you actually disliking me. Never let it be forgotten that though you may hate me, I am still a Stone.”
I sneered at him.
“And even if you choose to forget that, you will not forget what I’m about to tell you.”
“Hmm.”
He nodded his head above me. I turned and looked.
“It’s the wall. Is this supposed to be some stupid-ass metaphor?”
“On the contrary, it’s a warning,” Kyle said. “This building is subject to eminent domain. Since you never went to college, let me explain what that means to you. It means that the state has the right to seize this property so it can build something of greater public interest. Of course, you will be compensated at fair market value, a—”
“What the fuck are you saying?”
I grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close. For a flicker of a second, I saw real surprise on his face, as if Kyle could not believe that someone would dare to touch him. Depending on how the rest of this conversation went, he would also quickly realize that someone was also willing to dare to punch him, too.
But just as quickly as the weasel appeared, so too did the douche who knew I’d go right back behind bars.
“That’s right,” Kyle said as I let go of him. “Your bully tactics don’t work in the halls of the government. And they won’t work in private, either. Remember, I still know how to get in touch with Sarah.”
“You wouldn’t fucking—”
“I wouldn’t?” Kyle asked rhetorically. “Then you wouldn’t touch me or cuss me out, right?”
I sighed in anger but didn’t say anything else.
“In any case, this building is subject to being seized. We need to build a public school on this ground, and so we are going to go ahead and seize this and the other two buildings nearby. Like I said, don’t worry. This isn’t just seizing it without reward. You will be compensated.”
“Yeah? By whom?”
“The government.”
“I know, you… I mean who will determine the amount.”
Kyle smirked. I fucking knew it. I fucking knew that this would happen.
“If it makes you feel better, we will not seize control for a while. It’s to your advantage that perhaps no institution moves more slowly than the United States government. But if I were you, I would start looking for someplace new to start over. Perhaps you can pick a place outside the purview of Brooklyn, someplace away from this great borough. Someplace where your kind and your behavior will not be looked down upon, hmm?”
Kyle then patted my arm. I had to fight every instinct to kick his ass to keep my hands to myself.
“We’ll chat soon, brother. Enjoy your Saturday! I know I will, not being hungover!”
That motherfucker is fighting dirty. He wants to fight dirty? Fuck it.
I stormed back into the shop, mostly so I wouldn’t suddenly chase after my straw of a brother and snap him in half. Uncle was standing, his shirt torn, but his arms crossed and a determined look on his face. He opened his mouth, paused, and nodded toward the office. I did as he requested and followed him in. He poured himself a glass of water, chugged, and let out a pleasured sigh.
“Couldn’t talk before I got some water in me,” he said with a chuckle. “Let me guess. Kyle?”
“Not just,” I growled. �
��He’s claiming some eminent domain bullshit about building a school on these grounds. Do you know anything about that?”
Uncle lowered his head, shook it, and let his shoulders rise and fall.
“Kyle is pulling off what we in the white-collar world know as fucking bullshit,” Uncle said. “Kyle is playing dirty to shut us down. He knows that he cannot hurt us by playing by the rules, or at least, he doesn’t have the patience for us to slip up for it to happen.”
Uncle looked at me.
“You wanted a club? Part of a club means you have to be willing to get your hands dirty, kid. We aren’t in the business of being repairmen. We’re in the front of being repairmen, but we’re in the business of being outlaws. We do what we want because we don’t believe in following rules. We have a code, sure, but rules are just ways to get people. And right now, the politician is, at best, stretching ‘following rules’ to the limit. At worst, he’s just ignoring them. So you know what, Marcel?”
He chuckled.
“You’re gonna have to get dirty. You’re gonna have to break some laws too. I know, I know. Your daughter. Your future. But this is the tradeoff for you, kid. I hate to put it so bluntly, but your future as a mechanic is limited. You’re never going to make a ton of money at it, and there just aren’t a lot of opportunities for advancement. If you want to make more money, for the spot you’re in with your arrests and your background, you’re gonna have to take some risks.”
I sat against the desk in the office. Despite us having partied hard last night and having had drinks in here, the office was surprisingly clean. Damn good thing, too. I didn’t want to be staring at empty beer cans and wondering how the hell I was going to clean all this shit up while talking to Uncle.
“It’s Lilly, isn’t it?”
“It’s always her, Uncle,” I said. “She’s my everything. Without her, there’s no reason for me to exist.”
“Well—”
“Don’t, please.”
Uncle nodded.
“Listen, kid. I appreciate the love you have for your daughter. You’re a good man. I wish that I had the capacity for love that you do. Your aunt might still be with me if that were the case. But the truth is, you can’t have it both ways. You can’t live in a protective cage with your little girl and run the Saints.”
He sighed.
“If you want, we’ll kill the idea of the Saints. We’ll just continue Brooklyn Repairs as is until eminent domain takes place. I’ll make sure that you have enough means to carry yourself over, and then I’ll make sure you get a good job somewhere. You get to stay with your daughter, and while you’re never going to take her to Europe or buy her a dress more expensive than twenty bucks, you’ll still have her. Or, you can take the risk and still be with her but know it could all fall out at any moment.”
Well, that was just a hell of a thing to throw on someone, wasn’t it?
“Why not keep the Saints going but without me as president?” I said. “I think this morning demonstrated—”
“You kidding me? Who else is going to run this shit?”
Uncle spoke with such surprise that I wondered if there was something I had missed. It sounded absurd to him that I would suggest such a thing.
“Biggie? No way. Biggie thinks Kyle can still be a good guy. Niner? He has the charisma of a wooden table. Fitz and I have our day jobs. There’s only one person who has the maturity and the desire to run the club. You don’t have the experience. Who gives a fuck? None of us do. You learn as you go.”
Uncle came over and put a hand on my shoulder.
“If you quit, the club quits. It’s that simple. You going to prison is not something I would ever say is a good thing. But it has given you clarity to realize what’s important, and you know how to skirt the edge. If anyone here knows that, it’s you and Niner. And we all know Niner running the club would be the most boring shit ever.”
I snorted and had a small laugh form.
“OK,” I said. “Thanks.”
All this talk had made me certain of one thing, and it had nothing to do with the club.
“Where are you going?” Uncle said.
I paused at the door, looked at him, and smiled.
“Going to who is important,” I said. “My daughter.”
* * *
I hadn’t planned on going to see Lilly. There was a pretty decent chance that when I walked in, some strange man that Sarah was now dating would answer. She had always been good about not flaunting it in my face when I visited, but to show up unannounced…
Well, I had to make up for last Sunday somehow. I didn’t expect Lilly to forgive me so easily. She was learning how to hold grudges. But I had to start somewhere.
I got to her apartment around ten. The front door, somehow, was unlocked, and I went up the stairs to Sarah’s apartment. I knocked twice, not needing a chance to collect myself. I was quite sure of my actions and my decision to come here.
I heard footsteps—Lilly’s footsteps. The door opened with some struggle. And sure enough, standing there, was Lilly.
“Daddy!”
The excitement in her voice, the happiness in her eyes, the giddiness of her smile… nothing looked so pretty and so nice as that. All of the problems of the last twelve hours just melted away with that sight. I reached down, lifted her up, and kissed her on the cheek.
“My little girl, how are you?” I said.
Then I looked up and saw Sarah standing in the doorway. She did not look happy to see me at all. In fact, she looked incredibly pissed.
“Honey,” she said sweetly to Lilly, belying her anger at me. “Would you give Daddy and me a moment? Go play in Mommy’s room, OK?”
“OK!”
I gave her one more kiss, let her down, and watched her scamper off.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Sarah said. “You know that it’s not your day to be here.”
“Yeah, I’m aware,” I said, taking a breath. “I know you will never like me for abandoning you and her for prison. I don’t blame you. I’m a fucking idiot, and that didn’t magically change because I went to prison. But I’m smart enough to know how much I love that little girl. I made a mistake this past Sunday and feel awful for it. Terrible. I don’t want a full visit today. I mean, I do, but I know I can’t have it. I just wanted to see her and know that she still loved me and for her to know I still loved her.”
I thought of explaining more, but Sarah didn’t care. She just wanted to make sure I wasn’t abducting Lilly. I wasn’t going to do that. Lilly loved her mother, after all.
Sarah just stared at me, a scowl still on her face. I nodded and started to take my leave.
“Why did you miss Sunday?” Sarah said.
I paused at the stairs.
“And be honest with me. I don’t care what it is.”
Well, if you insist.
“I was starting to see someone, and she spent the night Saturday,” I said. “Got swept up into it, and, well, my phone was in my pants pocket, so I didn’t hear it vibrate. Fucked up, I know.”
Sarah snorted, and I swore it almost resembled a laugh.
“You say fucked up, but it sounds a little bit like deja vu to me.”
Ah, yes. Back when the two of us loved each other, we’d go well into the night. We were insatiable.
And then…
“Look, you gotta get your shit together and control your hormones, OK? I’m sure I’m not the first person to tell you that.”
“You’re not.”
“But I know you love Lilly.”
I looked in surprise. I couldn’t remember the last time Sarah had given me the benefit of the doubt on anything.
“You know, I don’t have a lot of good things I can say for you. But one thing that I can say is that whenever she is with you, I don’t worry about what’s happening to her. I know you care for her like no one else. I just wish you got the rest of your life in order because if you did, you’d make her really happy. Probably make a woman reall
y happy.”
I gave a weak smile. If only she knew how right she was.
“You have the greatest intentions in the world, Marcel. But intentions don’t mean shit. Next time it’s your day to watch her, really watch her. OK?”
“I will,” I said.
Sarah smiled for real.
“Lilly!” she said. “Come say goodbye to Daddy. He’ll be back next weekend.”
“Aww!” Lilly said as she came around the corner. “I want Daddy to stay longer!”
“Daddy can’t, sweetie,” I said as I bent down and hugged my girl.
“He can,” Sarah said.
I looked up in surprise.
“He can stay for breakfast. He’s gotta go then, but he can stay.”
She’s serious. She does know how much I love her.
“He’s gotta take care of other things after, but for right now, he can have some bacon and eggs with us.”
“Yay!”
Lilly hurried into the kitchen, doing her best to prepare the table.
“Thanks,” I said to Sarah.
“Don’t,” she said with a small smile. “Thank Lilly.”
There was little doubt I’d do just that.
Chapter 18: Christine
I tried to call Marcel in the morning to apologize, but he didn’t answer me.
He didn’t have to answer me. Frankly, he didn’t owe me anything. I sure as hell owed him a lot, though.
I had started to realize it last night, but I really realized it here. I was weak. I was unable to make myself better. I was destined to be a highly functioning alcoholic until the day I died. I guess if I was going to hold that as true, I had to make the most of it.
Once I realized that Marcel didn’t deserve to be around my tornado of a life—nor did anyone else—I knew whom I needed to turn to. Silently, I wished Marcel well on his journey ahead. He was a guy I hadn’t known that long, but he had invigorated my life in the short time that I had known him. He’d shown me that even people with baggage had value; he’d shown me people who had fucked up could get a second chance; and, of course, he’d shown me a great time.
But he had to care for his little girl. He had to care for his club. He didn’t also need to care for someone like me who couldn’t keep things under control.