Knuckledragger

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Knuckledragger Page 6

by Rusty Barnes


  “Yo, chief,” I said. I wasn’t going to fall in with their gang shit. I didn’t even get up. “Pull up some towel,” I said, and spread out my beach towel for him.

  “You looking healthy,” Tito said, reaching a hand forward to shake my left hand. “Except for that getup. I didn’t know they was all broken. Sorry about that.”

  “Sure,” I said. “Stop fucking with me. What’s the message?”

  “Easy, now,” Tito said. “There’s no message. I’m out freelancing today. Giving decent guys a break.”

  “Is that right?”

  “The message is to not mess with the boss’s lady.”

  “I didn’t,” I said.

  “I heard her leave you a message this weekend,” Tito said. Before I could react he had both hands up and empty. “She will fuck with you. Don’t fuck back. Let’s just say voice of experience.”

  “So she’s pulled this kind of shit before,” I said. Tito indicated a small scar below his ribs on the right side.”

  “I got a boy tried to kill me with a knife. You’re lucky.”

  “Oh, I feel it,” I said.

  “I’m hooking you up. What you do with the hookup is up to you.” He looked down the beach. “Pretty girl,” he said as Rosie walked up.

  “All right. Message delivered. Tell the man I’ll be back when my fingers heal enough,” I said. Tito nodded to me and showed his grill to Rosario and walked off. I picked up the towel Tito had occupied and wiped my face with it.

  “I stay away long enough?” Rosie said.

  “Just about,” I said. “He delivered a warning from Otis.” Rosie sat down and kicked up some sand with her foot.

  “Anything to worry about?” Rosie said.

  “Always something to be concerned with,” I said.

  “So are you going to try to get out?” Rosie said.

  “I can’t get out without losing face,” I said. “I’m in it for a while.”

  “That makes no fucking sense.”

  “You don’t know everything about it.”

  “Tell me about it then,” Rosie said, taking off her glasses and squinting at me.

  “You know I can’t.”

  “Bullshit.”

  “Lay off,” I said. “Let’s have a good morning, huh?”

  “Hmmph,” Rosie said. She planted both feet and shifted her butt in the chair. “That’s not the way relationships move forward.”

  “Relationship? Something you want to tell me?” I said.

  “Nope. Everything’s just freaky-deaky over here.” She looked the other way down the beach toward Winthrop.

  “C’mon now,” I said.

  “I understand. You have no marketable skills.”

  “The fuck?”

  “You don’t,” she said.

  “I’ve heard enough.” I stood up and folded my chair. “You want a ride back to my place, or you going to walk it?”

  Rosie looked at me for a long time. I hope she could see how much my hands were shaking. If she’d been a guy she’d be looking up at me right now. I never understood how women could say the most horrible things and you had to react nicely.

  “I’ll take the ride,” she said. The walk back was quiet. I walked quickly, and she had to struggle to keep up with me. “Can you slow the fuck down?”

  “I thought you wanted to get out, like I did?” I said.

  “Jesus Christ,” she said.

  “Good thing it’s a quick ride back.” I tossed the chairs into the back seat. Rosie didn’t bother to scrape the sand off her feet, so it all ended up on the passenger side. I ripped the wheel around and took off past the looks of pissed-off beachgoers and made a left to circle around behind the bars. Even those streets were chock-full of cars. I passed a Revere cop giving someone a ticket near an old restaurant, parking lot overgrown with patches of green. Bennington Street was filled with cars. It took me a while before I could make the turn onto Winthrop Ave. I pulled into Beachmont Liquors and got a twelve-pack of Coors Light, then drove the two hundred feet to my place. I held the twelve-pack in my right hand with the chairs bundled under my injured hand. Rosie brought the towels and the cooler. I stuck my key in the back door but it was unlocked already. Before I could get in the door someone grabbed my arm and tried to pull me into the house. Rosie screamed. I dropped the chairs and the twelve-pack and fought him off with my right hand for a moment, until he grabbed the fingers on the bad hand and I had to go to my knees to get out of the pain. I was down there already so I hit him in the balls with everything I had and he let go. By that time Rosie was on his back trying to claw at his eyes. I swung so hard, I tried to bust his nose so hard it would come out of the back of his skull. I hit, but didn’t make it that far and caught a kick to the throat. He slammed his back against the wall and dislodged Rosie and by that time I was on my feet. I tripped him up and he fell. I jumped on his back and smashed a right to the back of his head, which rebounded against the floor and his body went limp.

  “Get up and call nine-one-one,” I said to Rosie. “I’m going to sit on him until cops get here.”

  She called and it didn’t take long for two cars to show up. The story was pretty cut and dried until they asked me what happened to my face. I told them the truth: I got beat up a few days ago.

  “Looks like a hair more than beaten up,” Officer Walker said. He was the cop who was asking the questions. I shrugged. “You sure you don’t recognize him?” he said.

  “Never seen him before,” I said.

  “And you see people like him a lot,” Walker said.

  “Yeah,” I said.

  “So he has no ID on him. Do you want to press charges?”

  “What do you suggest?” I said.

  “Considering the state we found you in, questions are going to be asked. Do you want to answer them?”

  “Not really,” I said. Rosie started to say something, but I shot her a look and she quieted.

  “Are you all right, Miss?” Walker asked. Rosie nodded, but didn’t seem to know what to do with her hands. “I wouldn’t press charges, Mr. Stahl.

  “All right then, I won’t.”

  “I wouldn’t go looking for revenge either.”

  “I’m a gentle giant,” I said. Officer Walker snorted and walked out. The guy who attacked me had no ID and refused to give a name.

  “We’re going to have to kick him back out on the street in a few hours. Maybe you want to continue your staycation elsewhere.”

  “We just got back,” I said. Rosie started crying.

  “I guess we’re going away again,” I said.

  “No, we shouldn’t,” Rosie sniffled. “Otis said he wasn’t after you, so who is?”

  “I don’t know. Only thing I can think of is Diovisalvo’s guys again.”

  “Can’t you call someone who can ask around? What’s being part of a cartel if they don’t help you.”

  “I’m not in a cartel. Get that straight,” I said.

  Rosie snorted at me and started picking up the beer and putting it in the fridge. I went to the kitchen cupboard and got some stuff to clean the attacker’s blood off the floor. Then I picked up the chairs and put them away. I grabbed a beer and sat down on the couch, pulling the gun out of the cushions and setting it on the table. If they came back, I’d be ready with a licensed weapon and I could cut them down with legal purpose and a lot of enjoyment. Rosie came out from the bathroom, stopped by the fridge and brought me a beer.

  “So what’s next?” Rosie said.

  “I’m going to call Otis and see if he can suggest something,” I said as I picked up the phone.

  “Yo, this is Tito,” a voice said.

  “It’s Candy. Let me talk to Otis.”

  “Shit man, I just talked to you.”

  “Somebody just tried to get to me.”

  “No shit? You got some bad luck, dude. Hold on.” I heard some background talking.

  “This is Otis. What’s up?” I quickly ran down what had happened, all the way
from Hyannis to Revere.

  “OK. I’m sending X over with a couple guys. He’ll stay until dark, then the two other guys will take over.”

  “All right, cool,” I said.

  “What, no thank you?” Otis said. “Never mind, I was just busting balls.” The line went dead.

  “What did he say?” Rosie gestured at me to hurry up.

  “He’s sending a couple guys over to watch the place.”

  “That’s good.”

  “I guess,” I said. “I just don’t like guys hanging around in my business.”

  “You better get them something to eat. Otherwise they’re not going to be happy.”

  “Shit,” I said. Just then a 4Runner pulled up by the side of the house, revved its engine a couple times, then coughed to a stop. Two guys stepped out. They couldn’t have been more than twenty or twenty-one, muscled in that gym-rat way. They didn’t even bother to knock, just opened the door and strolled in. I stopped them just about where this morning’s attacker had been.

  “Who are you?” I said.

  “X sent us, homes,” the taller one said. He had an ornate tattoo of a dragon winding its way up his chest and into his neck. His pulse showed in his neck at the dragon’s front leg.

  “I thought X was supposed to be coming.”

  “Well, he ain’t here.” The taller one introduced himself as Jimmy. The other one, more heavily muscled but much shorter, was called Calvin.

  “All right, come on in,” I said. “This is Rosie.” She nodded to them.

  Jimmy said, “She sure is rosy.”

  “Shut the fuck up,” I said.

  “You ain’t got no PlayStation or Xbox or nothing?”

  “Sorry, guys,” I said.

  “What we gonna do all day, just set here?”

  “Protect us and the property,” I said. “X didn’t tell you what was up?” Both of them shook their heads. I explained the morning to them, and they both nodded at the right times.

  “So we here so you don’t get fucked up as bad as you been fucked up?” Calvin said.

  “That’s basically it,” I said. These kids made me feel old. The ten years between us might’ve been forty. They were just dumb muscled-up kids.

  “No offense, son, but they got you good.” Jimmy said as he flopped down on my sofa. Rosie just shook her head.

  “Whatever,” I said. “Just make sure nobody gets into the place.” I tossed them a couple hundred bucks. “Get some pizza or something if you get hungry. Luigi’s just down the street is real good. They put sugar in their crusts.” I pulled a fresh shirt out of my laundry basket. Rosie had already put on shorts and a shirt from the stash she kept at my place.

  “We’re off,” I said.

  “What, you’re not staying? What the fuck are we protecting then?”

  I spread my arms. “This, all of this.”

  “Think people gonna steal your rims?” Calvin said.

  “I don’t have rims,” I said.

  “You ever hear of metaphor, motherfucker?” Jimmy said.

  “Fuck you,” I said.

  “We ain’t all field Negroes,” Jimmy said, cracking his knuckles.

  “Oh, I can see that.” I gathered a duffel bag and my backpack. “You coming, Rosie?”

  “Yeah, I’m coming,” she said. “Where are we going?”

  “I’ll tell you in the car,” I said. I turned to Jimmy and Calvin. “This is my cell number. Call me if anything happens. I’ll be back in three days.” I turned back and took Rosie’s hand. I slammed through the door and didn’t look back.

  “Is it smart leaving them there with all your stuff?”

  “I don’t think they’re going to be there very long.”

  “Then why are we leaving?”

  “Otis can’t afford to have anything happen to the place while people know it’s under his care, so to speak. These guys are going to get bored and leave and then Otis has to send X or Tito over to take care of it. It’s going to prove whether or not he’s after me for reals.”

  “OK,” Rosie said. “It’s an ego thing. I get it. Now where are we going?”

  “We’re going to the Omni Parker House and we’re going to eat fucking Boston Cream pie till it comes out our eyes. No one will expect that. They also have two bars. We can stay in the quiet one. It’ll be nice.”

  “I just hope nothing violent happens,” Rosie said. “That shit is getting old.”

  “It shouldn’t. Brothers will look way out of place there.”

  “But I won’t?”

  “Not if I’m with you,” I said.

  CHAPTER 16

  I DROVE DOWN BENNINGTON and then turned off by the Copy Cop, through Maverick Square and the tunnel. I roared through the Sumner at seventy-five miles-per-hour and Rosie giggled like mad. I made the exit for downtown and paid some African kid fifty bucks to valet park my car in one of the garages adjacent to School Street. The decor hadn’t changed at the Parker House since probably the forties. Tufted orange carpets, finely grained wood, a big chandelier and skycaps who expected ten bucks just to carry your shit to the elevator and into your room. Once in the room, Rosie turned on the TV and lay on her stomach watching Ancient Aliens on the History Channel.

  “How about this fucking Tesla guy?” I said. “He predicted cell phones and computers and worldwide wireless connections before World War II. The fucking government probably killed him for laughs.”

  “What?” Rosie said. “This is just educational background noise to me. Who the eff is Tesla?”

  “Die Glocke,” I said. “Werner Von Fucking Braun.”

  “You’re speaking a language I don’t know, Irish.”

  “I’m just fucking with you,” I said.

  “Well, stop,” Rosie said. She flipped over on her back and skinned out of her shorts and t-shirt. “Now come and fuck me,” she said. She bit me hard on the shoulder and her cunt got wetter by the minute till it was like sliding in grease. I was just about ready when she put her mouth to my ear. “Pull my nipples,” she said. I flipped over on my back and carried her with me, then I yanked on her nipples until she hissed at me. Her rhythm on top of me caught me by surprise, but I was catching up with her quickly. She bent down toward me again. “Hit me,” she said.

  “What?” I said.

  “Hit me,” she said.

  “Where?”

  “Anywhere,” she said. I slapped her breast. “Yes.” I hit her again, harder. She banged against me like she was trying to take me out. “The face,” she said.

  “No,” I said, and stopped.

  “Goddamn you keep going,” she said. I could see a bruise darkening her nipple even with her dark skin. I kept going because I didn’t know what else to do. She brought my hand up to her face. “Hit me,” she said.

  “No,” I said, and then just as quickly changed my mind. I popped her right cheek with my open palm and she melted in tears on top of me, her cunt clutching me spasmodically until I couldn’t hold on any longer. “Are you all right?” I said. I felt her move her head against my shoulder and I thought it was a positive head shake, but I didn’t know, so I held her on top of me as tightly as I could until her breathing went regular and steady. I kept her in the crook of my arm, and at some point, she slept, then I slept.

  CHAPTER 17

  I WOKE UP EARLY AND ORDERED room service pancakes for us both, with a carafe of orange juice. I tried to be quiet but by the end of the quick phone conversation Rosario had woken up and put clothes on. I don’t know if many people would have noticed, but the cheek where I’d slapped her seemed a little darker than the rest of her face. She hadn’t seen it herself yet, but I felt a sinking pit drop into my stomach.

  “You sleep all right?” I said. She stretched her arms out and nodded.

  “I didn’t think you’d do it,” she said, pulling her shirt bottom down to her knees.

  “Do what?” I said.

  “Hit me,” she said.

  “I didn’t know I would do it either. I mi
ght not ever do it again.”

  “Bullshit,” she said. “You better do it again.”

  “I don’t know. I think it’s weird. I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “You didn’t, not the way you think. I asked you to, remember.”

  “You weren’t even drunk,” I said.

  “Nope,” she said. “Not even close.”

  “So, I have to hit you now to make you come?”

  “Not every time,” she said. “Doing it all the time would just make it ordinary. Let’s call it something for special occasions.”

  “Sure,” I said. Someone knocked on the door discreetly. I pulled covers back over myself and Rosie answered the door to get our two heavy plates. We dug in pretty quickly, buttermilk pancakes being a chief breakfast weakness of mine. Rosie clicked on the TV and we saw the Sox highlights from the night before. They’d gotten spanked by Toronto. The pitchers gave up six runs in the top of the first and that was all Toronto needed and then some.

  “What do you want to do today?” I said. I wiggled the fingers on my left hand. They weren’t right yet, maybe never would be, but I was closer to getting my fists back than I expected after only a few days. I’d always been a fast healer.

  “You want to go to the beach again?” Rosie said.

  “Not Revere Beach,” I said. “I don’t want Otis or his boys to be able to find me.”

  “Oh boy,” she said. “You may not have to worry about it. Look!” She fingered the remote and put the volume up. Revere police had Otis and X in handcuffs against a car. Otis hollering in Spanish. X’s right eye was nearly closed. The announcer said something about suspected murder and RICO, not to mention drug deals and illegal betting. They had him on a truckload of stuff. I sat back, my leg shaking. If they had gotten close enough to get Otis, they were close enough to get me. I dialed Jimmy’s number on my cell, but he didn’t answer, and I hadn’t thought to ask Calvin for his cell. So my house was unprotected right now, I had to guess. Just then a number I didn’t know flashed up on my cell screen. I took a deep breath and answered it.

 

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