The Scars That Define Us

by M. N. Forgy

  “Um,” the words catch in my throat as I eye-fuck her, “tonight, I thought we could just chill. In two days, there is a Fourth of July party at the beach,” I inform her, trying to look at anything but her, but it’s not working.

  “Oh, yeah, what time is it?” she questions, picking up the remote from the coffee table. As she bends over to grab it, her shirt hangs loose, giving me a glimpse of her perky breasts. My cock swells at the sight.

  I look up and see her eyes catch mine, a slight smirk crossing her face as she leans back on the couch and flips through the channels. She’s teasing me.

  “It starts at noon, but I don’t usually go till night,” I say, trying to think of anything but sex.

  “Why’s that?” she asks, still staring at the screen.

  “That’s when the sinners come out.” I look at Dani’s stunned expression, her vivid green eyes wide with surprise, and I wink.

  ***

  I slide my empty beer across the bar toward Babs. I had to escape Dani; her sexy tits have been screaming for my mouth to take them all day, and my hands twitched with the urge to grab them. It’s weird not having someone else’s trust and actually giving a shit about it.

  “We got a problem,” Bull states, walking into the clubhouse. I watch a flustered Bull lean against the bar. He grabs the side of the counter with both hands and arches his back so he’s looking at the floor.

  “What’s going on?” Bobby asks popping the cap off his beer with the side of the bar’s counter.

  “Locks just called me. He said his bike caught on fire,” Bull confides, glancing up at us, his face looking tired and worn out.

  “Holy shit. He okay?” Bobby wonders, mid-sip of his beer.

  “Yeah, he was inside the smoke shop when it caught fire,” Bull confirms with a raised eyebrow.

  “Did someone set it on fire?” Bobby questions. I turn to look at Bull, curious myself. Seems we have done nothing but piss people off here lately; wouldn’t surprise me if that list grew.

  “Let’s get over there and check it out,” Bull orders, pushing off the counter. “Tom Cat, drive the truck over there,” he yells at our newest prospect. Let’s just say, our last one, Charlie, didn’t make the cut after he let Dani get kidnapped.

  ***

  We pull up to the smoke shop where Locks buys his tobacco; he rolls his own cigarettes so he’s always here buying supply. When we pull into the parking lot, there are motorcycle parts from one end to the other. Sitting in the middle is what’s left of the bike with dissipating smoke surrounding it. It’s a disaster, and it looks more like it was blown up than caught on fire. You can see a wheel against the store, which was blown from the bike, and I have to weave through the shrapnel pieces everywhere. Just feet from the trashed bike is Locks. He’s sitting down against a light pole which resides in the parking lot, one leg bent while the other is out straight. He looks completely relaxed for someone who just had his pride and joy ripped from their hands.

  “That is not a casual bike fire, my friends. That is one hundred percent fuck you,” Bobby laughs.

  “That’s what I was afraid of.” Bull shakes his head, throwing his leg over his hog.

  “What the fuck happened?” I ask, stepping over part of an exhaust pipe.

  “I dunno. The damn thing has been leaking fuel, been meaning to get it fixed.” Locks tosses a piece of gravel.

  “You leave it running?” Bull asks, surveying the burnt lump of bike.

  Locks looks up at Bull. “No, but the engine was hot.”

  “Nah, I’m thinking this is a message,” Bobby concludes, kicking at the charred asphalt.

  “I agree. Did you piss anyone off?” I wonder.

  “No. I haven’t,” Locks snaps, his eyes furrowing with anger in my direction. “However, I have a strong idea someone heard we had the FBI on our ass, and not to mention we let a fucking rat into our club. That may not sit too well with other clubs,” Locks spits as he stands.

  Bull looks over at Locks and glares, and I find myself glaring at him, too. I can’t help but feel protective of Dani, and hearing Locks talk shit about her has me furious. Dani is not a threat; she has earned her trust. Apparently not everyone thinks so, though. I can feel my fingers tighten as the urge to plow my fist in Locks’ mouth for talking ill about Dani circulates through them. I’m starting to question his commitment to the brotherhood here lately.

  “It’s a warning,” Bobby states, glaring at Locks.

  Bobby is right. This was no accident. This was on purpose, and whoever did this sent it as a warning. They’ll be back again, and by surprise.

  We hear sirens sound close behind us, and turning we find a black and white cop car parked feet away. I didn’t even hear the damn thing pull up; fuckers are sneaky.

  “Shit,” Bobby mutters.

  “Well, hello, boys.”

  Skeeter slams the door shut to the cop car and places his hand on his holster. He’s got short, black hair which always looks like he put way too much shit in it, and a stupid-ass mustache over his top lip. He’s tall and really fast. I know because I’ve had to run from him a couple times. Cops are a shady breed, but when you get a dirty cop, it goes darker than a shade.

  Skeeter used to be in our pockets about a year back, but he got greedy. His price of pay-off got ridiculous, and on top of that, he started asking for a percent of our sales. I offered to take the fucker off the grid, but Bull said it was bad for business. Instead, we moved all our merchandise and stayed clean from any illegal running for a few months. When Skeeter learned we weren’t taking to his demands, he did exactly what we thought he would do, he cried to his cop buddies. Told them we were running guns and dealing drugs and he knew exactly where it all was being held. After a search warrant turned up nothing, Skeeter lost connections in the law enforcement and unfortunately, it put us on his shit list.

  “What do we have here?” Skeeter asks, eyeing the scene.

  Another cop exits the passenger side of the cruiser. He’s bald, pale and freckled and looks young and frightened by the sight of a bunch of bikers gathered together.

  “Gas leak, it’s handled,” Bull states, stepping in front of Skeeter.

  “It will be handled when I say it’s handled. Now, step aside,” Skeeter orders arrogantly as he points for Bull to step away as he turns back to the cop-in-training. “Officer Manny, keep an eye on this one.”

  “You guys multiply like cockroaches,” Bobby jokes, making me laugh.

  Skeeter whips his head in Bobby’s direction. “Watch it, boy.”

  Bobby huffs and crosses his arms.

  Skeeter walks up to what’s left of the bike and squats down.

  “Gas leak, you say? Must’a been a hell of a leak.”

  “Yup,” Locks agrees.

  “Like I said, it’s handled,” Bull states again, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

  “You guys drive these streets with no regard to others’ safety, going way too fast, disobeying traffic laws. It’s no wonder one of these death contraptions caught fire.” Skeeter talks while spitting chew from the side of his mouth. I watch the nasty spit fling near Bull’s boot, and the disrespect has me seething. I step up ready to go head-to-head, but Bobby pulls on my shoulder, holding me back.

  “It would be a day to mark on the calendar if all your shitty motorcycles caught on fire.” Skeeter chuckles as leftover chew dribbles down his chin.

  “Are we done here?” Bobby asks, squaring his shoulders in anger.

  Skeeter scoffs as he takes in the scene. “This your bike, Locks?” he questions.

  “Yes,” Locks replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

  “I’m going to have to write you a ticket.” Skeeter pulls a notebook from his back pocket.

  “For what?” Bull asks with disbelief.

  “Unsafe operation of a motor vehicle,” comes Skeeter’s reply while writing on his ticket book.

  “Are you fucking kidding me?” I grit out. Surely he can come up with somethi
ng better than that.

  “You want to go for a ride to the station?” Skeeter asks, puffing his chest out.

  I step up to the challenge, ready to throw a punch.

  “I think you just assaulted an officer,” Skeeter lies, pulling out a pair of chrome cuffs from his waistband. “You saw it, didn’t you, Officer Manny?” I look over and see a pale Manny looking scared to death at the situation unfolding.

  “Bullshit,” Bobby snaps, stepping up, ready to take Skeeter down for trying to arrest me. If Skeeter’s going to lie and claim I assaulted him, he’s going to get what he wished for.

  “All right, let’s calm it down,” Bull orders, sliding his hand between Skeeter and me.

  “Locks, take the fucking ticket. We’ll get the mess cleaned up, Skeeter. No need to arrest anyone,” Bull tries to reason.

  “I don’t like your tone. You better watch it, boy. I think you forgot whose town you’re in,” Skeeter states, cocking his eyebrow. My teeth grit in anger, a couple nights in jail for assaulting a police officer, Skeeter in particular, doesn’t sound too bad at the moment.

  He rips the paper from the pad and throws it in Locks’ direction.

  “Enjoy the rest of your day,” Skeeter practically sings before walking back to his cruiser.

  “Fucking prick,” I rumble in anger.

  “Are you trying to get thrown in prison?” Bull questions.

  I shrug and mutter, “It would be worth it.”

  “Locks, I had Tom bring the truck, so ride back to the club with him. I’ll call a couple of guys and get this cleaned up,” Bull promises, climbing on his bike.

  “I have to ride in that fucking thing?” Locks asks, pointing at the SUV. He hates vehicles; I’ve seen him ride his motorcycle in every kind of weather just to keep from being in a vehicle.

  “Unless you want to ride bitch?” Bull laughs.

  Locks strides over to the SUV and climbs in, shaking his head and cursing. I don’t know what happened to his bike, but I know it didn’t catch fire by a gas leak. He takes care of that thing too well to let something like that go unmended.

  ***

  After we head back to the club, I’m ready for another beer. Only when I find Locks sitting at the bar getting drinks at the clubhouse, I can’t handle the temptation to throttle him and need to go somewhere else. I haven’t forgotten how he disrespected Dani so easily.

  “What’ll it be, babe?” the bartender asks, her red hair tangled and sticking to her sweaty forehead. When just us boys are looking to get out and get some fresh beer, we hit up this hole-in-the-wall bar. I don’t even know if it has a name aside from Bar.

  “My usual,” I reply, cracking a peanut in half.

  “Get me one, too, babe,” Bobby slings her way, sliding onto a stool next to me.

  “You followed me again.” I observe rather than ask, tossing the peanut in my mouth.

  “Yeah, I want to clear the air between us,” he states, taking his beer from the bartender.

  “Not anything to talk about,” I say, grabbing my beer, as well.

  “Bullshit there’s not.”

  I look up at the TV and see the missing person add for Parker flash between commercials. I grin, they’ll never find Parker. I may or may not have paid him a visit in the night recently. I never leave a job unfinished.

  “Hey, I’m Heather.” I look over and see a short, blonde-haired girl sliding up Bobby’s side. She has on ripped fishnet stockings with a red skirt and a black corset.

  “Well, hey, doll,” Bobby grins, sliding his hand down over her skirted ass and giving it a squeeze.

  “Heather, let’s go. We got business.” Another girl wearing the same outfit yells from the door.

  “Shit, I gotta go,” Heather says, pulling from Bobby’s hold and walking toward the door.

  I can’t help but hold judgment at Bobby, my disgusted gaze telling him just that. That girl would be nasty even if I was shitfaced drunk.

  “What? Anything goes with hoes,” Bobby chuckles.

  “That’s repulsive. Do you not have any standards?” I ask, popping a peanut in my mouth.

  “I wouldn’t have slept with her,” Bobby tells me, his tone serious while he cracks a peanut. “But I’m not going to be a dick to her either,” he continues with sincerity.

  “Right,” I sneer. I can’t help but be pissed at Bobby, since he encouraged Dani to move on without me and put his hands on her.

  “Hey, asshole!” Bobby and I look over our shoulder’s to see three men standing at the door, the one in front pointing at Bobby. He has on baggy jeans and a sleeveless shirt, his head bald and shiny. Of the two behind him, one has a flannel shirt with the sleeves ripped off and the other is wearing a white shirt with holes all over it. All walks of life in this bar.

  “Me?” Bobby questions, pointing to himself.

  “You mess with my girls, you pay up,” the bald man roars, slapping his chest with a loud roar.

  “I didn’t mess with anything, and you better watch who you’re talking to,” Bobby retorts, pointing at the man.

  “That’s not what my girl said, so you calling her a liar?” The bald man’s walking up to Bobby.

  Suddenly, Bobby is ripped from his bar stool and thrown on the ground. The bald man straddles him and punches Bobby square in the face. I turn leisurely on my stool to get a better view of the action. Nobody seems to even notice the fight; everybody just goes about their business, drinking, dancing, and playing pool. A fight in this place isn’t uncommon. Bobby takes the hit and throws his own punch, making the guy fall off him. Then Bobby rolls over and punches the guy in the face again; he might actually have this fight. The bald guy spits blood to the side and grins at Bobby maliciously. The two guys who followed the bald one suddenly grab Bobby by the elbows, one on each side, and haul him off the guy in charge. He rises to his feet and wipes the blood from his lip before delivering a punch to Bobby’s gut without warning. Bobby grunts in pain as the man throws another.

  “Little help here, man,” Bobby moans.

  I crack a peanut and watch the two guys holding Bobby while the bald one punches him again. Yeah, I should help him, and any other time I would. I would make sure all three of these assholes lost their teeth. But seeing how Bobby’s a traitor and I haven’t actually plotted my revenge on him, this will do.

  I cock a smile and toss a peanut in.

  “Should have had my back with Dani. What you did wasn’t the brotherly thing to do; touching what wasn’t yours, brother,” I sneer.

  The guy throws another punch to Bobby’s stomach before the two hounds let go of his elbows, letting him fall to his knees.

  “Pay up!” one of them yells, placing his hand out palm up in Bobby’s face.

  Bobby coughs and grabs his wallet in his back pocket, pulling free a few twenties and tossing them onto the floor. The bald guy grabs the cash and stuffs it in his pocket before stalking out of the bar.

  “What the fuck, man?” Bobby asks, sliding onto the bar stool slowly, holding his stomach and coughing as he takes a small sip from his beer.

  “You deserved it,” I shrug.

  “You owe me sixty dollars,” he says, holding his midsection in pain.

  I turn and look at Bobby. His mouth is split and bleeding and he’s hunched over, grabbing his stomach. It makes me smile to see him in such pain.

  I WAKE UP ALONE this morning. I spent the whole day with Shadow yesterday. Laid up in the apartment, we sat around munching on food and watching TV. I found out he’s ticklish under his armpits, and in return he found out I’m ticklish everywhere. It was nice to not think about the weight of the club or our trust issues. It was just us and nothing on the outside interfering with that. Today, I went grocery shopping¸ and I stopped by the dance studio to see the older girls audition for Swan Lake.

  I walk into the apartment as the sun begins to set, hoping to see Shadow, but it’s empty. I pop some popcorn and plop on the couch to paint my toes. After surfing the channels and com
ing up with nothing, I turn it off, bored out of my mind. My phone vibrates on the counter, catching my attention, and I pick it up without looking at the caller ID. Right now, I would talk to a sales person I’m so bored.

  “Hey, girlie!” Cherry chirps on the other end of the line.

  “Uh, hey,” I respond, surprised to receive a call from her.

  “You doing anything tonight? Me and a couple of the girls are going to a club where my brother is DJing.”

  “That sounds great,” I reply, excited.

  “Great, we’ll be there soon,” she says, hanging up the phone.

  I clap my hands in eagerness and run off toward the bedroom, heading to the closet and grabbing a black, strapless number which falls mid-thigh. It’s sexy and provocative, and I can’t wait to wear it. I throw my hair up into a loose up-do; apply a smoky eye shadow, light lip gloss, and a spritz of perfume to top it off. There’s knocking at the door as I’m putting on some black heels; my sore feet don’t even seem to mind the squeeze.

  “Wow, you look hot!” Cherry says, eyeing me as I open the door. She’s wearing a purple dress shorter than mine which ties behind her neck, and her eye shadow matching it. She’s also wearing her property patch over her dress, which makes her look fierce. I follow her down to the parking lot as she hops into a red Bug. When I climb into the passenger side, Babs and Molly are sitting in the back smiling at me.

  “Hey, girl,” Babs smiles.

  “I didn’t expect you for a club-hopper,” I joke at Babs.

  “Ugh, Locks’ has been gone for days, I’m bored as hell,” she replies, rolling her eyes.

  Cherry speeds off from the curb, making the girls in the back squeal. She bobs and weaves in and out of traffic. How she got her license I don’t know; she had to have worn something like she’s wearing now because the girl is death on wheels. We pull up to a building shining in bright gold lighting around the doors.

  “The Rogue?” I question, reading the club’s sign.

  “Yeah, it’s supposed to be the big thing right now,” Cherry answers, getting out of the car.

  “My brother Tyler is ecstatic to DJ here,” she continues, twisting her face in humor. “It’s not all bad. We get free drinks and get in free.” She points to a line of people waiting to get in.