by Pink, Nikki
When his assassin entered Bigfella’s eyes involuntarily flicked over to him. Goddammit, I didn’t mean to look. The young man was Mexican, of course, and he was clutching his balled up towel close to his chest. Got the shiv hidden under there, huh? Good fucking luck with that.
Bigfella forced his eyes back forward and concentrated on not looking at the other man. If he could maintain a sense of surprise he’d have a much better chance. He let his hair hang low over his eyes, allowing him to glance to the side without being seen.
When the other man’s water stopped, he guessed it was time. He snuck a glance to the right. The man was gone. Bigfella took a deep breath and turned around violently, praying he had the timing right. Come get some motherfucker.
The man was there, inches away. How’d you get so close fuckhead. Bigfella yanked his head backwards as the man thrust at his throat with a pathetic looking, but still potentially deadly, knife.
Once the man had missed his swing he didn’t have a hope of walking out of the room. Bigfella was about twice his weight and strength and even as he moved his head out of the way of the Mexican’s slash he was swinging his arm up and over, and then bringing the towel-wrapped soap down in a whipping swing that connected with the Mexican’s temple in a brutal thud.
As he began to drop to the floor Bigfella swung again, this time connecting with his attacker’s cheek. The quiet sound of his body hitting the floor was drowned out by the still running water.
Bigfella rose and swung again. The water had stopped now. Again and again he swung his makeshift weapon, each blow connecting with a sickening thud as it slammed into the unmoving man on the floor. The water on the floor and gurgling down the drain turned pink and then red. Bigfella’s soap disintegrated from the water and the blows.
Panting, Bigfella spat onto the remains of the face on the body in front of him and threw down his towel in disgust. Laboring over his breath he reached down to his cock and then aimed a stream of hot piss onto the body in front of him.
The reek of urine and blood mixed with steam and cheap soap filled the room. No one had come in yet. Bigfella sighed and walked down to the first stall. He pushed the button to start the water flowing and began to clean off the splatters of blood that flecked his face and body and covered his feet.
CHAPTER NINE
Jase
The mood was somber in the clubhouse. Usually a new member joining was a much happier occasion. The recent events and the pressing issue of revenge meant that today’s ceremony had a much darker feel.
Jase and the Doctor spoke together, “Say the oath.”
Gauge stood at the front of the room while everyone else stared on. He covered his heart with his right hand. “I swear to be a brother for life. I swear to put the club before myself. I swear to …”
When he’d finished reciting the words there was silence around the table. Then Jase spoke, “Congratulations brother.”
“Congratulations … Welcome … Good to see you…” Congratulatory words were spoken by all around the table. Jase felt a modicum of pride as he watched Gauge accepted into the club. He, more than anyone, had pushed to welcome Gauge since he’d arrived in town, and suggested he be accepted as a hang-around and then a pledge, and finally a full member of the Sons of Mayhem.
“It’s an honor. Thank you. Finally, I have a family again. The ugliest goddamn family I’ve ever seen, but a family.”
Jase tensed for a moment, but was relieved when the room erupted in laughter. They could have been offended instead.
“My mother said I was beautiful!” Lonnie joked.
“That’s what she said to me last night,” shouted Bottle and T-Bone in unison, before erupting in guffaws.
When the room was beginning to quiet down again the Doctor banged on the table a few times until there was silence. “Sorry to spoil the happy occasion.”
The laughter quietened down as they all remembered what had happened to Gauge’s immediate predecessor.
“Usually there’d be a party now. Bitches, whisky, you know how we do. But as you know, we’re on lock-down and we have a serious fucking situation.” His eyes turned to Gauge. “That’s why you’ve been brought up so quickly. So instead of welcoming you with a party, we’re gonna welcome you with a meeting which will decide the future of our club.”
Jase caught Gauge’s eye. “You can sit down there.” He pointed to the far end of the table where there were a couple of empty chairs. They exchanged a nod of the head as Gauge passed by to sit in what would be his new spot, down the end next to Eag.
The mood was dark for the next half hour of the meeting. They told Gauge everything they knew about the Mexicans, where they met, the businesses they were involved in and anything else they deemed relevant.
“And how soon do you want to do this?”
“Yesterday,” said Jase. There were murmurs of agreement around the table before all eyes returned to Gauge. Usually when a new member joined they were silent for their first meeting or two and often the subject of teasing. But with Gauge and the current situation it was different. There was something about Gauge’s presence - Jase suspected that even if they weren’t planning a war he’d be teased a lot less than most. His serious demeanor and the way he carried himself didn’t lend him to good natured teasing.
All eyes were on the new member as he spoke, his deep voice carrying weight that belied his short time as a member. “We can do this. The thing about these kinds of gangs is they don’t know what the hell they’re doing. They’ll spray a person with bullets while driving by in a car, but they can’t protect or assault a location. I can. We can. But we’re going to have to know exactly what we’re doing.”
Jase felt a burning sense of pride inside him. That’s my boy Gauge. “So what are we gonna do?”
“I need to go have a look for myself. You said that anyone who’s anyone tends to get together in the leader’s house on a Saturday night. That’s when we’re going to have to strike. I’m going to scout out the situation before then and plan our assault.”
“This Saturday?” asked Bottle, “That’s when we’re having the wake.”
There were murmurs around the table.
“Exactly. They won’t be expecting us then.”
The Doctor spoke next. “I think they won’t be expecting us anyway. I made a truce with them.”
“What the fuck?”
“I told them we were even. Fucking idiots bought it. They won’t be expecting us.”
Jase frowned. Why the hell was he meeting with the Mexicans? But if it was true, it’d give them an extra element of surprise.
The excitement building was palpable. Until T-Bone spoke. “Are we sure this is a good idea? Isn’t there another way? Shouldn’t we wait until Bigfella is back?”
There were angry mutters around the table. “I spoke to Bigfella, he told us to do it.”
T-Bone looked surprised. “He said that?”
“Not in so many words - we were in the visitor’s room - but yeah.”
The big man slumped, looking a little dejected. “I guess that’s that then.”
Jase looked around the table, “Anyone else?”
“Nope … Let’s do this … Kill ‘em all… Let’s burst some burritos.”
Gauge’s gravelly voice once again caused all eyed to turn to him. “What weapons do we have?”
The eyes shifted to Jase. He ran their security wing. “Shotguns with baton shells and regular. Some handguns. Some of the boys have rifles.”
“If we’re going to do this right, we’re going to need something heavier.”
“Like what?”
“Like AK-47s, M16s, SA-80s…”
“So, military shit?”
Gauge raised his eyebrows. He didn’t seem to like the term military shit. “Some military equipment. I can improvise a few things, but we’re gonna need a few fully automatic rifles for what I have in mind.”
“Well shit.”
All eyes turned on Jase. Where
the fuck am I going to get that. “Is there another way?”
Gauge shrugged. “Depends on whether we want to live or not.”
Dark laughter whispered softly across the table.
For the first time in a while the Doctor spoke up again, “Give me and Jase a minute.”
“Is this really the time for an intimate moment?” asked Lonnie. Doesn’t he fuckin’ know when jokes are appropriate? No one laughed. Jase watched as the embarrassed Englishman and the rest of the men filed out.
What the fuck now?
“Jase, I got some more bad news just before we started. I didn’t want to ruin the mood before Gauge’s induction, everyone was already fucked off without this extra shit on top. It’s about Bigfella.”
A chill shot down Jase’s spine. “Is he okay?”
“After you saw him today he was taken for a shower. Late. On his own.”
Please, no. No more deaths.
“A Mexican kid went at him with a knife.”
No, no, no.
“Bigfella disarmed him.”
What? “He’s okay?”
“He’s okay.”
Thank fuck.
“But the Mexican isn’t.”
“Good.”
“Not Good.”
Why the fuck not? Jase raised his eyebrows at the Doctor.
“He beat the Mexican kid to death with a bar of soap wrapped in a towel. He’s been arrested for murder.”
“He was fuckin’ defending himself, right?”
“There were no witnesses. It’s his word against the Mexican’s, and the Mexican ain’t talking.”
“Where the fuck were the guards?”
“Who fuckin’ knows. But I’m sorry Jase, it looks like Bigfella won’t be out for a while.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck.
“And he’s gonna need a lawyer. A real one. Not fuckin’ Eag hollering advice from the sidelines.”
It’s all too fucking much. What the fuck is going on.
“The state’ll give him one, right?”
“Yeah. A shitty one. He won’t ever get out, not at his age. He deserves better than that. He deserves the best we can get.”
“We don’t have the fucking money. Fuck. Brodie’s funeral. Money for his folks. Fuck. We’re tapped dry, Doc.” Why the fuck is everything going wrong. Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck.
“Yep. And the guns too, Jase.”
Shit. For a second he’d forgotten about that, forgotten about Brodie. Forgotten about revenge. Then he thought of something. There’s a way.
Jase looked into the Doctor’s eyes and his voice was cold and hard. I hope I don’t regret this. “Can you.. Do you think it’s not too late…”
The Doctor gave him a questioning look.
“The Koreans. With their money... And they can get us guns too, right?”
The Doctor sighed. “You know what Bigfella said. You know how he feels.”
“Bigfella ain’t here, Doc. He made it clear to me - we’re to run this club while he’s locked up. And fuck, it’s the only chance we have of getting him out, right? We need to get him a lawyer - a real one. We need to get revenge on the Mexican fuckheads. Is there any other way?”
Doc let out a sigh. “If I sold my house, once I paid off the mortgage, maybe I could get us a 100k or so.”
You’d do that? “No Doc. You can’t do that. You’re doing enough already. And besides, would that even be enough? And it’d take time.”
“Yeah. Just a thought. So, the Koreans?”
“The Koreans.”
“We’re going to have to vote this, Jase. You know how the last one went.”
“A lot has fucking changed since Saturday, Doc. I’ll talk to the table. Most of ‘em will listen to me.”
Doc nodded. “I’m sorry it’s come to this.”
Jase nodded. “Me too. But fuck. If we make as much as they said? Think of what it could do for the club.” Renovate the clubhouse. Grow the security company. New chapters? New engine for my bike? Something for Nicole.
“Do you want to hear the worst part?”
“No.”
He spoke anyway. “That bitch in the nurse outfit is down the sheriff’s office right now, telling them she was with him the whole damn time. He’d be on his way home in the morning…” His voice trailed off.
“Fuck.” That is some serious fucking bullshit.
“Yeah.”
They stood and hugged before calling the rest of the men back in. Jase spoke to the table. They listened with concern and then outrage.
Everyone voted with Jase and the Doc. Everyone except T-Bone.
“I won’t vote nay. I won’t shoot this down. But I don’t like it fellas. This shit’s all happening too fast. I don’t know which fuckin’ way is up anymore. Put me down for an abstention.”
A few dark looks were thrown at T-Bone, but before anyone could lambaste him Jase spoke, “That’s your right, T-Bone. We should all have reservations, truth be told. But fuck. Seriously, fuck. I can’t see a better way, and no one else has any ideas either. So this is the way it’s going to be.”
“Amen,” said Bottle.
“Gotta be done,” said Lonnie
“Let’s make some mo-ney,” said Eag, more enthusiastically than the others.
When they exited into the main club room it was dark and quiet. Since they’d gone on lock-down it seemed like life had left the club. Even on a weeknight there’d be half a dozen or a dozen people having a good time together.
Jase shook his head to himself as he headed out the doors to where his bike was waiting for him. He had nowhere to go, but he knew he wanted to ride to get there.
CHAPTER TEN
The Doctor bowed 45 degrees with his hands held by his side. He held the position for a second, before standing straight again. The Korean man in front of him nodded his head in response, not matching his bow.
Doc had made the two hour ride to Korea-town, Los Angeles for the meeting. He’d previously talked to more junior members of the gang, but this time he was to meet one of the top men. It was an honor, he knew, given only because of his own high-status position as a doctor, and as self-claimed acting president of the motorcycle club. “Come.”
The short Korean man, flanked by two much larger and younger men led the way from the entrance room into the complex behind. They passed a counter where a woman bowed respectfully to them as they passed, before heading through an unmarked door and then down a hallway until finally reaching an elevator. The doors stood open, and yet another man in a suit stood holding the up-button to make sure the doors didn’t close. He too bowed.
Don’t they get sore backs? Up, down, up, down. Fuck. The elevator ride was silent. Doc watched the elevator numbers tick up, 1…2…3…F…5… F? Is the counter broken? They exited on the sixth floor, which was the highest in the building.
The Doctor followed Mr. Lee to his office. It was in the corner and had floor to ceiling windows that would have given impressive views if there was anything impressive to see outside. Maybe it looks better at sunset.
There was perhaps the biggest desk he’d ever seen dominating the room, with an equally oversized chair behind it. Is that a fucking throne?. But the Korean mafia boss didn’t head to the desk. Instead he led them to the center of the room, where two gaudy sofas and an equally tacky coffee table were arranged. The two sofas; fake leather, painted with flowers, and covered in elaborate gold-colored studs; sat across from each other. Between them was the kind of antique table that was no doubt younger than anyone in the room.
Mr. Lee sat on one of the sofas, and one of his bodyguards directed Doc to the other. He sat down feeling uncomfortable, almost intimidated.
“So. You will act as our distributors?”
The Doctor nodded. “We will.”
“Why the change of heart?”
“The club decided it would be in our best interest. And we need the money.” He let out a chuckle at the last part. Mr. Lee didn’t laugh.
“You
are the new president?”
“Yes.” Acting President. Same thing.
“When can you receive the first shipment?”
“Next week. I have a favor to ask though.”
Mr. Lee tapped his chin. “We don’t do favors.”
Shit. “In order to distribute as much as you are going to be supplying, we need to,” he paused for a moment to throw a meaningful look before continuing, “reduce the competition. Open the market a little.”
Mr. Lee nodded. “I see. I’m afraid my men are far too shy to work with you in that regard.”
The Doctor nodded. “Yes, I understand. I have the men. We just need some, uh, tools. And we heard you might have some.”
The Korean nodded in understanding. “Tools. I see. As part of the first payment?”
Thank goodness. He’s going to go for it. “That would be perfect.”
“What tools exactly do you need?”
The Doctor reached into his jacket pocket, but before his hand was even half inside his wrist was caught in the iron-grip of one of the bodyguards. The man used his other hand to reach into the Doctor’s pocket and pulled out the folded piece of paper that it contained.
Get your filthy hands off me. You already searched me when I arrived, asshole. He tried not show any visible displeasure at being manhandled, and mostly succeeded. The bodyguard handed over the paper to Mr. Lee and the Doctor sat in restrained silence.
After looking at the paper the Korean man gave a nod. “I can have them delivered tomorrow. But these are not cheap on the black market I’m afraid.”
The Doctor nodded. “I understand, thank you.”
“And this is an advance, right? A kind of loan.”
Uh oh. “An advance so that we can distribute your product, Mr. Lee.”
“An advance, a loan, nonetheless. Loans, especially these kind, are expensive.”
“How much?”
“These tools will constitute your first payment.”
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. “All of it?” Fuckin’ Gauge.