HOT as F*CK

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HOT as F*CK Page 54

by Scott Hildreth


  “If they do the stupid?” She clapped her hands together. “Close the knees.”

  “I will,” I said, trying not to laugh.

  She carefully removed the aluminum foil from the dishes, and then looked at me and grinned. “He has a head like a rock, but he’s a good boy.”

  “He’s very nice. And, he’s polite. You raised him well.”

  She smiled. “Thank you.”

  The differences between my mother and Adam’s mother were huge. I could see myself being close friends with Adam’s mother, but my mother would always be my mother, and nothing more.

  It wasn’t that we weren’t friendly with each other, because we were. I was sure, however, that we’d never become friends.

  Together, Maria and I set the table. Although Adam seemed interested, he sat quietly on the couch and watched as we got everything ready. After everything was in place, his mother let him get up from his time out chair.

  “It’s ready for us to eat,” she said. “You can get up now”

  I fully expected him to make a snide remark or say something funny, but he didn’t. He simply got up, walked to the table, and sat down.

  He peered at what was in the dishes. After seeing what it was, he looked up with excitement in his eyes. “Tamales and chile con carne?”

  His mother nodded. “Tu favorito.”

  “English, mother.”

  She glared at him and then looked at me. “Tu favorito,” she said “Your. Favorite.”

  I looked at Adam. “Tu favorito.”

  “Yes,” he said. “It is.”

  She glared at him. “Lower your head.”

  I lowered my head.

  “Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  “Amen.”

  “Pork and Anaheim chiles?” he asked.

  “Your favorite,” she said. “Fill your plate.”

  “Ladies first,” he said.

  She nodded toward the food. “Fill your plate, Adam.”

  She looked up and noticed that he was wearing his hat. “Adam. Wesley. Downey. Do we wear little black hats at the table?”

  He yanked it off and tossed it across the room. “No ma’am.”

  “Thank you.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand and smiled.

  We filled our plates and ate for what seemed like hours. I enjoyed eating at Maria’s, but then again, tacos were my favorite food, and eating whatever she cooked resembled tacos enough that I was in food heaven.

  When it was obvious we were finished, she looked at me. “You eat like a bird.”

  “She had four tamales with chile, mother.”

  “She looked to her left, paused, and then looked to her right. “I don’t see anyone talking to you. I was talking to Alexandra.”

  “The food was wonderful. I’m stuffed,” I said.

  “I’m glad you enjoyed it.” She looked at what was left, and smiled. “I’ll send some home with you.”

  Upon hearing her words, I remembered. “Oh crap.” I realized I’d cursed at the table. I quickly covered my mouth. “I mean shoot. Oh shoot.”

  She shot me a worried look. “What happened?”

  “Your dish. I need to go get it.”

  She waved her hand toward me. “You can bring it the next time you come.”

  “No. I brought it, I just forgot to bring it in.”

  Her brow wrinkled. “Did you drive?”

  “No. We both rode on the motorcycle,” I said. “I put it in the little box on the side.”

  “The little box.” She smiled. “I like you.”

  I looked at Adam, winked, and then looked at her. “I like you, too.”

  “I’ve got an announcement,” Adam said.

  Here we go…

  “What?” Maria asked. “That you’re going to be a legless fool?”

  “No. It’s official.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “What’s official?”

  “Alexandra and me,” he said with a smile. “We’re in a relationship. It’s official.”

  It felt good to hear him say it. No, it felt great to hear him say it. I looked at her out of the corner of my eye.

  She stood up, glanced at me, and then fixed her eyes on him. Her face distorted into a playful scowl.

  “You’ve been in a relationship. And now you’re finally a big enough man to admit it. That should be your announcement.” She reached for my hand. “Come with me, Alexandra. I’ll fix the two of you a plate.”

  On the way to the kitchen, I realized what she had said.

  I’ll fix the two of you a plate.

  Yeah, I liked Maria.

  A lot.

  Chapter One Hundred Nine

  Cholo

  Crip, Pee Bee, Smokey, and I were in the shop, and things were getting heated quickly. Crip rubbed his beard for a minute, and then looked at Smokey.

  “Hundred percent?” he asked.

  Smoke took a drag off his deal, and then tilted his head back. After filling the shop with a cloud of sweet-smelling smoke, he locked eyes with Crip. “Yep.”

  “You’re full of shit, Smoke,” Crip said flatly.

  Smokey pushed his vape into his pocket and puffed his chest. “You calling me out, Crip?”

  “Settle down, you big dumb prick. I’m saying in general,” Crip said with a laugh, even though his eyes looked worried. “Generally speaking, you’re full of shit. You believe what you want to believe, and when you get something in your head, there’s no changing your mind. So, if you think Lefty was the last one out, you’re going to say Lefty was the last one out, even if it was Speedbump or one of the other fellas.”

  “And, I’m fucking tellin’ ya Left was last. I saw Bump come out, and then I remember looking up, and seeing the two bikes who were leading us without kids on ‘em. I looked back, and Cholo was at the rear, but not the sweeper. Two bikes in back, and one had Little Frank on it, and the other was empty. Peeb asked about four times, are we ready? I remember thinkin’ whoever is dicking around in there must a been takin’ a shit, because it was takin’ all fuckin’ night.”

  “I talked to Speedbump,” Crip said. “He said--”

  “Wasting your fucking breath if you was talking to him,” Smokey said.

  “Let me fucking finish, Smoke,” Crip hissed.

  “Finish, but I don’t give a fuck what he said. Left was last.”

  “As I was saying. Speedbump said he wasn’t last man out, and that when he left, the money was on the coffee table. He also said he got in the fridge to get a beer and there was more money in the fridge. Says he didn’t so much as pick up a dime. So, if that’s true, and I believe it is, it means last man out is our man.”

  Smoke pulled out his vape, took a big hit, and blew the cloud at his feet. After taking another long pull, he held the smoke in his lungs, and then looked up. “And last man out was Left.”

  Crip narrowed his eyes. “You’re sure?”

  “You might be President of this MC, but it gives you no fuckin’ right to call me a liar, Nick. Keep calling me one, and we’ll find out which one of us is the bigger bad ass,” Smokey said. “That, my friend, is a promise.”

  Crip didn’t bat an eye. “When we go to Lefty’s you’re coming.”

  “Fine with me. I’ll call his ass out to his face.”

  “You’ve been riding with this club for a year,” Crip said. “Lefty’s been here for as long as me. I’ve got a difficult time believing that--”

  “Let me tell you something, Prez,” Smoke said in a snide tone. “There’s people you can count on, and people you can’t. Don’t matter how long they’ve been in your life. What matters is are they there for you when you need ‘em? I’ve been patched for sixteen months. Was I there when we rolled up to challenge the Savages?”

  Crip nodded. “Yeah, Smokey, you were.”

  “Did I volunteer when it came time to punish ‘em?”

&
nbsp; “Sure did, Smoke.”

  “Was Left there for both of those?”

  Crip shrugged. “I’m sure he was.”

  Smoke laughed. “And, I’m sure he wasn’t.”

  I couldn’t remember, so I shrugged.

  Crip looked at Pee Bee.

  “Left wasn’t there. Either time,” Pee Bee said.

  “Okay,” Crip said. “You made your point.”

  “Hell, I ain’t close to done,” Smokey said. “There’s more.”

  “Well,” Crip said. “I’m done hearing it. We’re rolling to Lefty’s, and you’re coming with.”

  Smokey glared at him. “What? Is my butt supposed to pucker?”

  He turned toward his bike, got on, and fired it up. “Waiting on you, Nick.”

  The four of us rolled into Lefty’s shop and parked on the sidewalk. He owned a small media-blasting business that consisted of a few machines and a truck that used high-pressure air to blow ground up walnut shells through a nozzle.

  The process was used to clean paint or rust from steel.

  Surprisingly, the parking lot was empty, but Lefty’s bike was parked outside his shop door.

  Together, we sauntered into the building.

  “I’ll do the talking,” Crip said.

  Smokey shrugged.

  I hung my helmet on the bars and pulled on my hat. “Okay by me.”

  Pee Bee nodded.

  I knew Crip had his piece, but I wasn’t armed. I saw no real need to be, and although I wanted to find out who put my life at risk, I, no differently than Crip, had a difficult time believing it was Lefty.

  I’d never been inside Lefty’s place, but it was clear Crip had. We followed him down the hallway and into an office. The temperature in the building was sweltering, and I wondered how anyone could work in it.

  “How’s it going, Left?” Crip asked as he passed through the door.

  I didn’t need to hear the tone of Lefty’s voice to know he was worried, I saw it in his eyes. Standing behind a cluttered desk in a sweat-stained denim shirt, he looked at Crip with nervous eyes.

  He glanced at each of us and then rubbed his mouth with the back of his hand. “Going slow, Boss.”

  “What the fuck’s going on here, Left? Looks like a ghost town.”

  “Lost my contract with the Marines, and then with the Navy,” he said. “Just trying to shake the trees and get something going on.”

  Crip looked around, crossed his arms, and then met Lefty’s gaze. “What’d you do? Fire everyone? Place looks empty.”

  Lefty pulled a cigarette from his pack, lit it, and took a drag. Beads of sweat rolled down his cheeks. “Laid ‘em off about four weeks ago.”

  Smokey cleared his throat.

  “Left. I’ve got some questions for you,” Crip said flatly. “Can we go out in the shop and talk? It’s hot in this motherfucker.”

  Smokey cleared his throat again. I looked in his direction. He patted his hand against his left hip. I looked at Pee Bee, and after getting an odd look in return, I looked at Smokey and shrugged.

  “Air conditioner’s broke,” Lefty said. “It’s on the list.”

  “Put it on the top,” Crip said.

  Everyone walked toward the door except Smokey. After realizing he wasn’t with us, I turned toward the office.

  Lefty was coming around the side of his desk, and Smokey was fucking with his vape, banging it against the palm of his hand.

  “Gimme a sec,” Smokey said.

  I looked at Pee Bee and rolled my eyes. “And they say it’s better than smoking.”

  Lefty came out behind me, and Smokey soon followed. The entire time we walked down the hallway, Smokey lagged behind, fucking with his vape as he walked.

  Crip led the way down another corridor, and into the shop. After walking to the center of the floor, he stopped and turned around.

  “You the last one out of the dope house the other night?”

  Lefty gave a confused look. “What dope house?”

  “Dope house we gave all the girls a ride out of.”

  Lefty put his hands on his hips and shrugged. “Hell, I don’t know.”

  Smokey stepped between them. His vape was gone, and his hand now held a small snub nosed pistol. “You’re a god damned liar. And, if you reach for your hip, I’ll put one in your heart.”

  “God damn, it Smokey,” Crip said through his teeth.

  Smokey raised the pistol and pointed it at Lefty’s head. “I’m not fucking around, motherfucker. Take your right hand, reach around your gut, and pick that piece out from underneath your shirt with two fingers. Think about doing anything slick, and I’ll put one right between those beady fuckin’ eyes.”

  I took a step back and looked at Pee Bee. He did the same.

  Crip, who was behind Smokey, took a step to the side.

  “Crip,” Lefty said dryly. “Can you help me out here?”

  “Fuck him,” Smokey said. “This is between you and me, motherfucker. You’re making me out to be a liar, and I’m a lot of things, but that ain’t one of ‘em. Now, snatch that piece out from underneath your shirt.”

  With his shirt untucked, I hadn’t noticed he was armed. It came to me that Smokey patting his hand against his hip in the office was a signal.

  Lefty reached for the gun, lifted it from beneath his shirt, and held it by the grip.

  “Take it, Cholo.”

  I took it from Lefty’s hand, and stepped to the side.

  Holding the pistol rock-steady, Smokey cleared his throat. “I’m gonna ask the questions now. I saw your ass come out last, motherfucker. I saw you get on your bike. And, you know, the more I’m thinking about it, you couldn’t have got the money that night. There was too much of it. You hid the shit, didn’t ya?”

  The tension hung in the air like a thick cloud.

  Lefty stared back at him.

  “I’m gonna ask once,” Smokey said. “If you lie, I’m gonna drop you where you stand.”

  “Where’s the money you took?” Smokey asked.

  Lefty glared at him. “Crip. C’mon, Brother. You’re running this show. We go back too far to let--”

  “Answer the question, Left,” Crip said.

  Smokey pulled back the hammer of the pistol. “I shake like a squirrel on crack,” he said. “With this hammer back, I wouldn’t take too long to answer. This cheap fucker might just go off. Where’s the money?”

  Sweat rolled down Lefty’s cheeks.

  Then, he let out a sigh.

  I wanted him to say he didn’t do it. That he took a shit. Hell, anything. And then, as I tried to convince myself that it couldn’t be him, he responded.

  “It’s in my bedroom closet, in a duffel bag,” he said.

  It seemed like an hour passed after he responded, but I’m sure it was only seconds.

  “God damn it,” Crip snarled. “Get your ass back in the office.”

  Hell, I had no idea who Crip was talking to. Still blown away over Lefty’s response, I think I may have gone into shock.

  The next thing I knew, we were all walking back into the office, and Crip had Lefty’s gun in his hand.

  “Sit down,” Crip growled. “At your desk.”

  “Crip, I swear to you. I was gonna come to you and see if--”

  “Shut the fuck up,” Crip roared. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

  While Crip pointed the pistol at him, Lefty walked around the edge of the desk and sat down.

  I realized Lefty’s decision to take the money, and go against Pee Bee’s – and my – orders, had almost cost me my life.

  I felt sick. The torture was starting all over.

  “Look at Brother Cholo,” Crip snarled. “Motherfucker got tortured for two fucking days. Forty-eight hours of being burned, cut, beaten…” He paused and shook his head. “Give me the key to your fucking house.”

  Lefty reached for his pocket. “I swear, Brother, I haven’t spent more than five grand of it. There’s $640,000 there. Take it.”

&nb
sp; With it pinched between his thumb and forefinger, Lefty lifted the key.

  “Toss it to Smokey,” Crip said.

  Lefty did as he asked.

  “Now,” Crip said. “Your lying back-stabbing ass is going to commit suicide. Either that, or I’m going to go down to 14th and hire a bunch of meth heads to torture your ass. You’ve known me long enough, and you know me well enough to know I’m not fucking around.”

  “Crip. Brother. I…” Lefty pleaded.

  “I’m not your Brother,” Crip said. “Neither are these fellas. And there’s no way out of this, Left.”

  “Go outside, fellas.”

  Pee Bee shook his head. “Boss, I’ll shoot the son-of-a-bitch.”

  “Have to beat me to it,” Smokey said.

  “I’m serious, fellas,” Crip said through his teeth. “Get on your bikes.”

  One by one, we turned toward the door.

  Crip nodded toward Lefty. “And you get busy writing a suicide note.”

  “Crip, I’m beggin’ ya…”

  “Shut the fuck up.”

  We walked to the parking lot in silence. It was still hard for me to believe he’d done it. One by one, we got on our bikes and sat waiting for Crip. I situated my cast on the board, and gazed down at it.

  I had four pins and two screws in my toes, and six bones in my foot were broken. I still didn’t have my teeth, and I wouldn’t for some time. The doctor said I’d never walk without a limp.

  The burns on my arms were going to leave scars for a lifetime, as were the cuts on my head.

  As the realization hit me of what Lefty’s selfishness had done to me, Pee Bee’s voice brought me out of my daze.

  “Good lookin’ out,” he said.

  I exhaled heavily and looked up.

  Smokey nodded. “Just protecting the fuckin’ club.”

  Crip walked out, got on his bike and shook his head. After taking a deep breath and staring up at the sky, he looked at me.

  “Sorry, Brother,” he said. “I really am.”

  Before I could respond, the sound of a pistol firing caused us all to look toward the building.

  Crip got off his bike and walked inside. In a few moments, he returned.

  “It’s over,” he said.

 

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