by Liz K. Lorde
Luke rolled his eyes, “Alright come on, don’t scare her off – she’s gonna start thinking every guy I know’s an asshole.”
“Yeah you’re right – we wouldn’t want her to get the wrong impression of me. I’m the asshole, that keeps the other assholes in check,” Sexton gave a nod of his chin.
The more ‘refined’ looking man put a cigarette to his lips and lit the end, making it glow cherry red.
Sexton smiled and let go of Jasmine, motioning his head to the man that was smoking, “That’s Benny. Don’t mind him though, pretty ladies such as yourself just make him a bit nervous,” he joked.
Inhaling for a few seconds, Benny let a cloud of smoke roll from his mouth into Sexton’s face; Sexton swatted the air away.
Slinging an arm around Jasmine’s waist, Luke squeezed her gently against him, “You can trust these guys,” he whispered in her ear.
“I do,” she assured, “I trust you,” Jasmine looked over to Benny. “Well it’s a pleasure to meet the both of you, Benny.”
Quietly nodding, Benny took a drag of his cigarette and smiled – extending a hand, in which Jasmine shook. The four then went over to the front of the line of the club, where the bouncer was waiting at the door; he was a tall man, built like a house – not a hair on his head, and lots of ink around his neck.
The man looked over to them, a smirk forming on his lips. “Been a while, Luke,” the bouncers words came out low and smooth. The line of patrons came to a standstill.
“It has man, it has,” Luke replied, “still keeping things tight I see, Jerry.”
The Bouncer’s smile grew just a bit wider at that, “Oh you know it.” His eyes shifted over to Jasmine, raking all over her body with a particular appreciation. “Who’s the pretty lady?”
She fluttered her eyes at the Doorman, “I’m Jasmine – Luke’s one and only. You can call me Jaz.”
The first patron that was in line before the group, some middle-aged black man, made a noticeably irritated and drawn out sigh. He was wearing a black leather jacket over a mauve button-up shirt, a golden, expensive looking watch on his wrist and had three, inch long white marks across his cheek. Jasmine discerned them to be some kind of tattoo, as to what they could have meant she did not know.
The Bouncer shot a glare at the aggravated patron, stepping over to him, “Keep yo ass quiet scrub.”
The patron shifted, looking away from the Bouncer.
“Yeah, yeah thas what I thought,” he turned back to Luke, motioning for them to come in. “Keep your girl close my man, pretty little thing like that – shit, gonna get snatched up in there.”
Luke led the way for the party, “They can look all they want,” he said confidently, “so long as they just look.”
Jasmine’s heart tapped quicker against her breastbone. Surely they won’t be ogling me? She thought of all the other women inside who might be prettier, or thinner or more well dressed – she knew that she was far from ugly, but aside from Luke’s loving eyes; even despite the doorman, would people really stop to stare?
The club itself was fantastically bombastic. There were so many hundreds of people, Jasmine felt herself hit by a powerful energy – she had not been to a club in years. The yellow and blue lights; the wisps of smoke snaking through the floor and curling up against her ankles, the thump of bass and the pulling urge to dance along to the wicked drums.
Sexton turned so that he could face the group, walking backwards half a step at a time. “Time to get fucked up,” his smirk widened, “bet I’ll bag 3 before you do 1, Ben.” His eyes glanced over to Luke, “ shame you’re outta the game.”
“Yeah yeah, go have your fun – got all I need right here,” he said, his words dark as dusk – his eyes locking with Jasmine’s. An electricity formed between the two, and in an instant his lips were on her own. He whispered sensually in her ear, “Be on your best behavior lover, or I’ll have to find some place to bring you down a peg.”
Jasmine let out a light moan, “We’ll see about that,” she challenged.
The hours went by in a blur of dancing, light drinking and flirting. Sexton openly bragged about the woman he ‘conquered’ and Jasmine finally came to hear Benny speak when he asked Luke if they could dance.
He was a handsome man, in a different kind of way. Refined, charming, reserved. Quiet. Very different from the sexual appeal that oozed from Luke and Sexton.
Sexton found himself the center of attention, dancing away with women and grinding up on just about anything that got within his reach. Yelling and laughing and generally enjoying himself. Jasmine wondered how a man could have so much energy, so much fire in their belly. If he was holding back, it was hard to imagine how loose the man would be drunk.
Luke and Jasmine danced, and some laughs were exchanged at each other’s poor moves – neither would be winning any awards tonight, it seemed. Every now and again, the two would break away to sit at the bar and drink and joke; every now and again, they would find some shadowy place to kiss and tease one another. Jasmine wanted to open Luke up, so that they days would never end. There was a man, one particular man, that Luke continued to see throughout the night – when he finally saw fit to introduce Jasmine to him, it was revealed that he was the owner of club Phoenix.
“Two more shots,” Luke said, “and then I’m cutting us off.” Jasmine saw his eyes wander off to some pretty, just turned legal blonde – and a heat roiled inside of her chest. She brought her hands up to Luke’s face and brought him back to looking at her.
“See something you want, cowboy?”
Luke smirked, “Man’s gotta look every now and then,” he confided, bringing Jasmine close to his body, a hand reaching down to her ass as he planted a kiss on her lips. “I’ll be right back.”
She watched him slip through the crowd of people, her body a little heavy from the alcohol.
A man approached her on the dance floor then, tall, well dressed and sexy as sin. He came at her with an almost predatory spring to his step. Knots formed in Jasmine’s stomach as her eyes glided over the man’s fit body; and for a brief moment she could not shake the jealousy she felt when Luke checked out that girl.
The man started to dance with her and she in turn played along, giving a wry smile. A girl’s gotta have some fun every now and then, she thought.
But the man did not stop there. He placed his arms around Jasmine’s waist.
Whoa whoa, hell no. Jasmine’s body lit up with a sickly fire and she, politely as possible, tried to worm herself free. That was her second mistake.
The man did not relent. Instead he went for her neck with his lips.
Jasmine redoubled her efforts, “Get off of me,” she hissed.
“Come on sugar,” the man whispered, she could smell the liquor on his breath – she found her heart beating faster and faster still. “Gimme a kiss, stop playing hard to get.”
Every muscle in her body was turning into a hot mess of knots, and fear cloaked her person tight.
She flinched in a terrifying instant when she felt the man get rattled off of her, the sound of fist crashing against bone.
“Get the fuck off of her,” Luke growled, his chest pushed out and his eyes smoldering – he stood above the man that had been on her; he could only groan on the floor as a few people watched the spectacle. As if suddenly snapping from a trance of anger, Luke whipped his head over to face Jasmine, “You okay?”
“Y-yeah,” Jasmine spat out, “I’m fine, I’m fine.” She did not want to tell him that she could still feel a shadow of the man’s hand on her.
“Let’s take that as our cue to go the fuck home.”
Chapter Fourteen
Luke
She’s so perfect, so peaceful and just… Luke planted a kiss on the crown of Jasmine’s head as she lay sleeping. He hoped that Gabriel wouldn’t mind their many, many trysts on his bed. But what he didn’t know couldn’t hurt him.
This is gonna get messy, Luke thought. The Club’s cleaner owed Luke a
favor, but if things were going to go down the way that he envisioned, it would be asking far too much of the man.
Luke gave his girl one last look before stepping out from the master bedroom and closing the door behind him. He went into the kitchen and poured himself a glass of water from the tap, drinking it down greedily – he had made sure to not drink too much while he was out, but to at least have enough to get loose.
Now that it was the dead of night, and an alibi had been established – it was time to strike. He knew that Allen would not be likely to believe it for him, but at least Sexton and Benny would be covered, with patrons and cameras having seen them. I hope that Sexton can still fucking walk right, Luke mused, setting the glass down and retrieving his gun from its hiding place beneath Gabriel’s couch.
Heading outside, he locked the front door behind him and scanned the darkness. Don’t see them anywhere, doesn’t mean they’re not here. Luke strolled over to his motorcycle and kicked the engine into gear, blasting out of the driveway and weaving through the dead streets like nobody’s business.
After a few minutes, it finally became apparent which car was the mark – the sheriff had put a number of the MC under surveillance as of late. Probably still pissed about not finding anything for that gun run.
Just the thought of running guns made Luke’s stomach twist with heat. There’s got to be a way out of this cycle, maybe that Gordon’s place is still up for grabs – if I had enough, I’d break away from this shit-slinging bullshit we’ve become.
Taking a sharp turn, Luke slammed on the gas and rocketed through a dead town street, before hiding himself in an alley and killing the engine. He stilled himself and kept his head down, heartbeats of time passing.
After a moment he could hear the engine of that marked car, and then it passed right on by. None the wiser. Luke made sure to wait a moment longer still, and when he believed the coast to be clear, he turned the engine back on and quietly slipped out of the dark and damp alleyway.
Working his way downtown, Luke’s mind wandered to the thought of Gabriel, and his heart stirred. This was what the selfishness and the greed of the life cost brothers in arms: blood and suffering. There could be no room for love if order wasn’t obtained, no time for spring. After several more minutes of nightly driving, Luke ended up at the meeting spot, a couple of streets down from the ‘abandoned’ storage center. This was a common joint for illicit gambling, prostitution and whatever dark dealings needed to be done – Earl’s appreciation for cards wasn’t exactly an unknown thing.
Sexton and Benny were waiting by a great tree, their black, beat-up van parked to the side. Benny was dressed up as Luke had requested, in a ratty, torn up black tee, along with a darker pair of jeans; it was safe to assume he had the rest on him too.
Luke rolled to a stop and hopped off of his FX-50. “Anyone follow?”
Sexton shook his head, wobbling a bit as he spoke, “Nah, looks like they were just on you.”
“Good. Everything’s set at the nightclub, just so long as you two keep your mouths shut,” Luke eyed Sexton hard, “I’m talking about someone in particular here. Someone who had too much fun earlier.”
“Yeah yeah, I get you,” Sexton had, at times, too much bravado. “I’ll keep quiet, you just keep your aim on point.”
“I know exactly who I’m going for in there. I’ll be taking center, benny will have my right and you’ll have my left – we get in, we find that son of a bitch and we get out. Quick, messy, professional. Understood?”
Benny cracked his neck before nodding in acknowledgement. Sexton smiled and was the first to put on his ski mask, “Let’s fuckin’ do this.” Oh yeah, Earl’s goin’ down for this.
The remaining men masked up and took out their pieces, taking long, quick strides towards the side of the compound. Luke noted the bulge in Benny’s left pocket.
The walls were made of concrete, but time and the poverty stricken residents had not been so kind to it – cracks were aplenty and had cousins in chips, holes and a slew of vulgar graffiti. Luke could even make out a couple of gang signs that were familiar to him, some still around, some long gone. One in particular was the three horned demon of the Los Demonios.
Luke bent down and whispered to his men. Sexton was the first to climb on top of Luke and jump up, grabbing the lip of the wall and pulling himself up. The fucking bastard was struggling though, grunting as he did so; he had too much from before and suddenly Luke’s heart sank into his stomach.
There was now a real chance this could all go horribly, horribly wrong. Should I call this off? He could feel his jaw tighten as Sexton finally made it up. Benny was next, and made the climb significantly easier – he lowered a hand for Luke to grab on to.
With a quick burst of motion, Luke jumped up and pulled himself on both Benny’s hand and the lip of the wall. The whole ordeal took about thirty seconds, and would have taken less if not for Sexton. The three men hopped down and glided across the concrete, passing rows and rows of dilapidated, orange colored storage units; though one could hardly make out their original color as they were covered in various graffiti just like the outside.
The three men moved quickly, quietly, through the night. Luke’s hand gripped tight his piece, his heart tapping with some quickness against his breastbone. Christ, Luke thought, a sudden wave of heat assailing him.
There was a seemingly unconscious drunkard lying about a strip of cardboard, wrapped up in a dirty blanket of wool, just outside of one of the beaten down units. Luke looked over to his crew and shook his head, and then brought up his hand to signal that they keep moving.
When the three made their way down to the front office, Luke spotted a man standing guard by the glass front door. The crew sneaked over to the side of the office and hugged the wall. Luke turned his head to face Sexton, “Check the back?”
Sexton glided over to the other end of the wall and peeked over the corner, his balance still noticeably unsteady. When he saw that the coast was clear, he went around the corner and after a brief moment came back, “We’re good.”
Benny peeled off his mask most of the way, leaving it on the crown of his head so it looked more like a beanie than something to disguise his face. He pulled out a cigarette from his right pocket, and a bottle that was housed within a brown paper bag. “This better work,” he said reluctant, putting the cigarette to his lips and sauntering back the way that the group had come; when he reached as far as he could without revealing himself, he ‘stumbled’ outwards and into the guard’s point of view.
Bringing the bottle to his chest, Benny shuffled forward, “Hey,” he said, attempting his best drunken slur, “hey man y-you got a, uh, a light on you?” Benny made a gesture with his thumb that he needed a lighter.
The guard turned to face him, a puzzled, disgusted look on his face. “I don’t,” he said curtly, “sorry.”
Benny kept his distance, wobbling on his own two feet. It was a bit ironic to smell the actual liquor coming off of Sexton. “Come on man, I-I’m really jonsing here,” he scratched at his arm.
The man rolled his eyes and pushed out his chest, stepping forward just a bit. “Can’t help ya, back the hell up you skeevy bastard.”
But benny did not do so, he stepped several paces forward, continuing to bait the man. “Aw, come on,” he pleaded, “I lost my fuckin’ lighter man, it’s cold out I’m st—“
“Christ would you just, can’t you listen?” The guard walked over to Benny, bringing himself nearly where they wanted him. He was still in the view of the front office’s windows.
“Just gimme a light man,” Benny asked, slinking back in fear of the man.
The guard continued his pursuit, pulling out his pistol now – it shone in the silver of the moon, “Back the eff up dude.” The guard practically dangled the gun in Benny’s face.
That was when he had him, out of sight, between the window and the end of the building. With one hand, Benny deftly maneuvered and grabbed the guard’s wrist, squeezing
and bending it at an angle; in half a heartbeat, Benny slid his foot behind the man’s and swept it, stealing the gun and bringing the man down.
The guard let out a pained groan. Someone from inside called out, “Tom? You good?” Benny pinned the man against the concrete, keeping the gun shoved against the man’s temple, he whispered, “Tell him whatever he needs to hear, or you die,” his voice was cold as the grave.
Tom hesitated for a beat of time. Benny jammed the gun harder against him. “Just,” the man squirmed nervously, “lost my footing.” Holy shit there’s no way they’re gonna buy that. “Stepped on a damn soldier,” he added, a soldier being a crack vial.
Benny’s eyebrows raised, “Really?”
There was a moment that passed before the man inside responded, acknowledging Tom’s word with a bit of uncertainty in his voice.
Lifting the man up, Benny kept the pistol jabbed at the man’s back – shoving him towards Luke and Sexton.
Sexton took point on the guard while Benny masked up; then, Sexton and Luke waited at the end of the wall towards the back entrance. Benny led the guard to the wooden backdoor, “Tell them to open up and try and come up with something fucking believable ya div.”
The guard banged on the door.
A beat of time passed and a gruff voice came from inside, “Yeah?”
“Yeah it’s Tom,” the guard said. Benny jabbed his pistol into the man’s back. “I’m freezing my balls off out here.”
Benny pulled the guard back to the side, out of sight, and gave the man a look that said ‘not sure what to tell you,’ and promptly knocked him on the head with the butt of his gun. The man went limp, but Benny made sure to bring him down gently.
The three men waited outside the door, their guns drawn, with Luke at the vanguard.
When the door opened, the goon that did as such immediately moved to close the door and draw his gun – but Luke gave a hard kick, sending the man backwards and causing the door to fly open.