Red Hot Bikers, Rock Stars and Bad Boys

by Cassia Leo

  “How did you cover up?” he ask.

  “Told him I was working overtime as a bouncer, and he promised to be discreet. I think he will—not out of the goodness of his heart but to have something to hold over me.”

  Slider tilts his head and watches Mike intently. “Oh, I see. He’s that type of buddy.”

  The show starts, and I hang by the door, looking outside. Mimi has a new routine to a Rolling Stones song, and watching her do her “Brown Sugar” number for a bunch of prejudiced assholes would make my skin crawl. When I glance back into the room, she’s crouching on stage in front of Zach and working on removing his belt.

  The man is so red, I think he’s about to have a heart attack. But no such luck—he stands, and I’m not sure whether he wants to push her away or grab her. I look away when he puts his hands on her, then it hits me. She’s going for his keys! Oh, my sweet and brave Mimi, what are you doing? Indeed, the keychain is attached to the belt she’s now wrapping around her hips as she exits from the stage.

  Fuck, I have to keep him busy to make sure he doesn’t go after his belt. I look around for Slider, and he’s nowhere to be seen. Did he pick that very moment to go talk to Sally? Shit, if Mimi has to return the belt before Slider has a chance to grab the disk, we’re screwed.

  While facing the outside, I tear a blotter into pieces and rush to the bar for two glasses of Zach’s poison of choice. Vic brings me the glasses. I drop the blotter pieces in one of them, but the crappy shit doesn’t dissolve. I ask for ice cubes, and Vic looks at me funny.

  “He takes it straight, no ice,” he says.

  “Well, I want some ice,” I snap, making my impatience clear.

  The barman shrugs, grumbling something about it being a waste to dilute such good stuff, but he drops one ice cube in the glass anyway. He turns to go to the other side of the bar. The blotter pieces are stuck to the cube, and I turn the ice around to hide them, hoping it stays that way.

  “With the compliments of the house for your participation in tonight’s show,” I say to Zach when I reach his table.

  He invites me to sit for a moment, and I do, putting the two glasses on the table.

  “I put on a good show, right?” He doesn’t wait for an answer because he’s so full of himself. “I know she’s sweet on me.” He licks his lips.

  I want to punch his horny smile away by crushing his teeth. Instead, I just say, “Sure looks like it.” My fake smile hurts.

  “Some of them are smart, and that one’s no dummy. She knows a good man when she sees one,” Zach gloats.

  At Zach’s insistence, I sit with them for a few minutes while he and his buddies discuss the comparative merits of the “regular” versus waxed pussy. I manage to keep my stupid smile stuck on and laugh at the proper moments.

  Zach says, “I think it’s time to go backstage get my belt back.”

  “No!” I say.

  “What do you mean, no?” Zach’s obviously not accustomed to someone contradicting him.

  “What I mean is that Suzy’s just about to get on stage. I can go get your belt while you enjoy the show.”

  Zach’s face relaxes, but his smile doesn’t reach his eyes. I’m not sure I convinced him I’m just another idiot sucking up to him, but my stupid grin and the two glasses I set on the table sure point in that direction.

  He stares at them then winks at me. “You’re right. We want Suzy mad but not that mad. That witch loves her whip!”

  “She sure does.” I wink back.

  “Let’s drink to the health of this wicked bitch,” he says and reaches over the drink I put in front of him to take the one with no ice. “To a good show.” He holds his glass out to click it against mine.

  Does he suspect something? Fuck, I have no choice but to take the drugged glass, toast, and drink. He finishes his glass in three big gulps and stares, daring me to do the same. Instead of the small sip I wanted to take, I force myself to take a real mouthful.

  “I’ll go get your belt,” I say, and I run away with the glass. Now I wish I had paid more attention in the academy’s drug-related classes. I have no clue how long this shit takes to kick in.

  I need to find Slider—he’ll know. Then I need to find Mimi and tell her that I fucking adore her, but if she ever pulls a stunt like that again, I’ll strangle her. I’ve aged ten years in the past five minutes.

  ***

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  I find Slider outside by the entrance door. He’s got a cut right under his eye, and he’s holding a paper napkin on it to stop the bleeding.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  “Sally.”

  “Oh, shit. I never thought that gal packed such a punch.”

  It’s cute how he almost looks proud when he nods. “Her big glass ring makes for a great knuckle ring.”

  I laugh. “Is the cavalry coming in soon?”

  “Yeah, they’re here already, hiding in the back. Why?”

  “I drank from the glass I had prepared for Zach, so I’m going to be tripping soon. I’m afraid I’ll need some muscle to keep an eye on me until I come down.”

  Slider looks startled, but he knows better than to ask how I ended up in such a mess. He just whistles, and a young guy comes running. He’s wearing a cut that indicates he’s a Knight’s prospect.

  “Go get Prince for me,” Slider says, and the kid runs away.

  “You need to go back in and check on Mimi. She took Zach’s keys when she was stripping, and she’s crazy enough to try to go get the disk herself. I need you to make sure she’s safe,” I say. “I’m counting on you to protect her.” I’m about to say, “As you would Sally,” but maybe Sally’s protection isn’t his priority right now.

  “Fine, I’ll do that,” he says. “But before that, I need to make sure you’re safe as well.”

  He turns around as a bike rolls in our direction. I recognize Dmitry. Prince is a good name for him—it matches his attitude.

  “What’s up?” he asks.

  “Take him away and lock him up for at least twelve hours,” Slider tells Dmitry, who raises an eyebrow. Slider shrugs. “A blotter in his glass. We don’t want him high as a kite on the highway.”

  Dmitry tilts his head and looks at me. I can read more questions in his eyes. Right, I’m stupid—that’s yesterday’s news.

  But being the prince that he is, Dmitry just says, “Got you,” and gestures for me to get on the saddle behind him which I do.

  I’m feeling just fine right now, maybe a little high on adrenaline, and I’m starting to wonder if it’s a good idea to run.

  “You make sure she’s safe, you hear?” I say to Slider as Dmitry takes me away.

  I silently curse myself. I should have spilled my glass or come up with something… As we ride away, I see a woman by the side door. Gosh, I hope it’s not Mimi wondering why I’m rushing away before we had a chance to talk.

  Dmitry and I ride to the Knights’ compound and stop in front of a run-down building. The faded letters on the facade inform me that this used to be a slaughterhouse. Inside, the factory-sized room looks bigger than I thought it would be from the outside. I look around and notice that the floor is slanted and there’s a hole in the center of the room.

  It would make a perfect set for a horror movie.

  “I like this room,” Dmitry says seriously.

  “I’m sure you do,” I answer with the same tone. “The hole in the middle of the floor makes a great conversation starter.”

  “Yeah, it’s the kind of room that leads people to spill their guts lest someone do it for them.” His smiles at his joke, and his smile is blood-chilling.

  We sit down, and I think I doze off for a few minutes. When I open my eyes again, it’s still night, but I feel refreshed.

  “So you said it would be fifteen minutes before the drug kicks in, but I’m sure I’m fine, and we’ve been here a while, no?”

  “Three hours and thirty-five minutes.”

  “So maybe the blotter stuck t
o the ice cube and didn’t get into the drink.” I feel perfectly normal—better than usual actually. I have this perfect sense of clarity that allows me to notice a direct relationship between Dmitry’s smirk and my statement. “You think I’m high?”

  “As a kite,” he says.

  “How do you know?”

  “Because we’ve been repeating this conversation over and over,” he grumbles.

  “You mean I’m caught in a loop?”

  “Yeah, you make me think about my grandfather.”

  “The one who’s lost his marbles?”

  “See, you remember some of it. I told you all about him the last time you asked if I thought you were high.”

  “Okay, then I guess I’m high. It’s strange ’cause I don’t feel high.”

  “Right, and now you’re wondering if the blotter somehow found a way to crawl inside the ice cube, allowing you to—”

  “That’s crazy, man, you’re a mind reader. How did you know?”

  He rolls his eyes. “Let’s try talking about something else.”

  “Sure, what do you want to talk about?”

  “Pussy. I love to talk about pussy. I have a question for you—how is it doing a black girl?”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Simple curiosity,” he says. “I’ve never had the opportunity to taste anything other than white or Mongolian pussy.”

  “Why do you think I know what black chicks taste like?”

  “You’re not doing Starla?”

  “Starla’s dead,” I say. The man has memory issues. He was at Josette’s funeral.

  “Yeah, yeah, don’t get technical on me. Starla number one’s gone, but I’m taking about Starla number two. I dig the second one better. She has more meat to her, and I don’t care for bony chicks.”

  “I’m with you one hundred percent,” I admit.

  “So you’re not doing that one? How come? It’s clear you want to get in her pants.”

  “I sure do, but Slider says we’re not allowed to mess with the talent.” And I don’t kiss and tell. But there may not be anything left to tell after I messed up tonight.

  He snickers. “As if he’s not doing Sally.”

  “Funny thing is, I don’t think he is,” I say. “And I think he’s a saint, because she’s ready to give it away anytime. I think if he said, ‘Let’s do it standing up behind the bar,’ she would go for it.”

  “He’s an idiot for turning her away. Sally’s hot,” Dmitry says. “One should never turn down a good pussy.”

  “Right again, my prince.” I slouch down and think. “You know, most scientists think that cold fusion is a myth.”

  Dmitry looks at me as if I’ve gone insane.

  “I guess you don’t know what cold fusion is,” I say. “Well, it’s a nuclear reaction that occurs at room temperature.” Dmitry frowns, and I’m unable to count the number of folds on his forehead. I don’t let that stop me. “Well, those who don’t believe it exists are wrong, because I experienced it the first day I looked at Mimi. Yep, that day, I experienced a nuclear reaction at room temperature.”

  Dmitry shakes his head and says, “Cold fusion, hey?”

  I don’t think he gets it, but maybe I’m not as clear as I think I am.

  “If I’m really high, we’re not going back tonight, and if we’re not going back, I think I’m gonna get me some shut-eye.”

  “You do that,” he says and pulls a blanket out of nowhere.

  He throws it at me, and I lay it on the floor. The tiles are really cold.

  Dmitry wakes me up five minutes later. Well, it feels like five minutes later, but it’s not. Daylight streams though the planks boarding up the window.

  “It’s way past noon,” he tells me. “Slider said I was to drop you off at the club so you could ride your bike home.”

  I get vertical, feeling like an old man. Every time I move my head, wedges of wood slide in and out my temple, and shards of glass pop out of my eyes. The ride back to the Bush Fire is nothing less than torture. It’s so bad that when I finally get off the bike, I puke all over my shoes.

  “You’re gonna be all right?” Dmitry asks, tossing my keys to me.

  “Absolutely, my prince,” I say, wishing him away. I’d rather die alone than under his insolent gaze.

  I take a few deep breaths after he leaves and decide to go see Mimi. She must be really mad at me. I need to explain why I left last night.

  ***

  CHAPTER TWENTY ONE

  The ride to Mimi’s house isn’t as bad as I thought it would be, though I’ve never been so aware of the potholes. My head clears a little, and I stop on the way to get some water. I need to flush this crap out of my system.

  All the benefits from the ride vanish when I reach Mimi’s front door. It’s been kicked open, and both rooms have been methodically destroyed. The mattress has been ripped apart and the furniture turned into chopped wood. The closet is empty except from some wire hangers and a few plastic bags. Only the dirty dishes in the kitchen sink show that the place was lived in yesterday.

  And in a corner, right behind the open kitchen door, there is a chair with my leather jacket. It’s not entirely dry, but I put it on as I rush out the door. I force myself to breathe normally while I ride to All Saints School. Classes stop at two today, and that’s only half an hour away. By the school door, I pass the time drinking more water and walking around my bike like a caged lion. When the kids come rushing out, I scan the face as they run by me. Even though my mind refuses to consider the possibility, I have no choice but to admit that Toussaint’s not there. I step into the bushes to get closer to the gate and almost slip in a puddle. A few mothers look at me sideways. They must think I’m some sort of pervert hiding in the bushes and stalking kids. They can think what they want—I don’t care at all. The door closes after the last kid has left, and I don’t know what to do.

  Think, just think. Okay, let’s suppose she has taken Toussaint. That’s good, it means they’re together. Where would she go? Where would she take him? I don’t think she has any family other than Toussaint. If she had, they would have come to Josette’s funeral.

  Do I know any of her friends? No. During all the time I spent with her and Toussaint, she never talked about any friends. The only one I know of is Marie, but I don’t even know Marie’s last name. I just know that she works at the hospital.

  Maybe Sally will know something. They’re not good friends, but they took classes together, and they seem to like each other. And if Sally doesn’t know anything, then I’ll go through Mimi’s locker at work. If there’s nothing in the locker, I’ll go to her college and get her file and see who her emergency contact is. That person will know where Mimi is.

  Now that I have some sort of a plan, I feel a little better. I ride home, toss my vomit-and-mud-caked jeans into the hamper, and set my jacket on the back of the chair. This thing will never be dry again.

  Under the shower, I turn on the cold water and progressively get the temperature up until the water is scalding. I only stop when the tank runs out of hot water. I hope that, by now, my head is clear. That drug is weird. I really felt as though I were fine. I grab an old windbreaker and run down the stairs.

  My mother calls from the kitchen, “David, I’ve got a sandwich for you.”

  The idea of food makes my stomach flip, but I’m bound to be hungry at some point, so I run in the kitchen and take the bag she’s prepared for me.

  “Are you gonna be on the night shift much longer?” she asks, lovingly brushing my hair out of my eyes.

  “I’m not sure, Mom.” I give her a peck on the cheek and rush out of the kitchen.

  She follows me out to the garage. “Well, I sure hope not, because I miss you.”

  “I miss you too,” I tell her before I ride away.

  I need to spend more time with my mom. I wonder how she and Mimi will get along. I know she’ll fall madly in love with Toussaint. She adores kids, but Mimi is kind of standoffish when she doesn�
��t know people. It’s so weird. For the first time ever, I’m thinking of bringing a gal home, and for all I know, she hates me and may have vanished from my life.

  I reach the club early, but I’m not the first. Sally’s car is already in the parking lot. So is Slider’s bike. Maybe Prince was right, and Slider is doing her, and I’m just an idiot who believes he abides by rules. I knock on the side door, and Sally opens it.

  “What’s the matter, big guy? You’re so stoned you can’t remember where the door is?” she asks.

  I growl, “That’s not funny.”

  “Well, according to Prince, you were pretty funny all night.”

  The twinkle in her eyes makes me forget my anger. She’s such a sweet girl, and she has no clue what’s happening.

  “When did Mimi leave last night?” I ask.

  She loses the smile. “Not long after you, and I’m going to give her a piece of my mind when she gets here tonight. Kim was sick last night, so it was just me, Suzy, and the lazy Kitten.”

  “She didn’t tell you where or why she was going?”

  “Of course not. Otherwise I would have made her stay,” she claims and then softens. “Unless the kid was sick or something…”

  I push past Sally and tear Mimi’s locker door off its hinges. Sally’s eyes widen as we look in—it’s empty. Totally empty except for a twisted paper clip.

  “Where’s her stuff?” Sally asks. “Yesterday, the locker was filled to the brim with Josette’s wigs, crazy shoes, and shit that Mimi didn’t have the heart to trash.”

  I nod and stare at the paper clip. That’s just the way I would have unfolded it to get the disk out of the computer.

  “Sally, what’s Mimi majoring in?” I wonder if Mimi tried to go retrieve the disk by herself during Suzy’s number. I should have known she was crazy enough to do this.

  “Not English Lit, that’s for sure. The woman can’t spell to save her life. But she aced chemistry and math, and I hear she’s a real computer whiz.”

  So she knew how to get the disk out without booting up the computer. Oh crazy, crazy Mimi, what have you done! I’m filled with dread. Did someone catch her coming down the stairs with the disk and Zach’s keys? Did she run because she realized she would get caught?