by J. C. Allen
I sniffled a bit. Matty put his bear paws back on me.
“Ye’ll see him soon,” Matty said. “In the meantime, why don’t ya come with me?”
“Come with… where?” I asked, stupefied by the shift in tone. “Your room?”
“Bah! Ya think I spendin’ another goddamn minute in this morgue?”
“Wait…”
He couldn’t possibly be serious, could he? I knew that Matty was tough and all, but… this just seemed silly.
“You want to leave?”
“I mean, I ain’t gonna die, I ain’t gonna get killed, so what in the damndest hell would I be doin’ here?”
“I, I, I mean, you just came out of a coma, and, you—”
Matty let me ramble for a few seconds, crossing his arms and looking at me with a bemused expression.
“’Bout the only argument ya get, girlie, is me bein’ hobbled. And ol’ Roost ain’t outrunnin’ anythin’ with two legs these days, no matter how ‘healthy’ this ol’ tank is.”
I started to speak some more but realized I was fighting a losing battle. If Roost wanted to go, well, I wasn’t his mother, his sister, or his lover. And even if I was, a man as bulldozing as Roost probably got his way.
“Take yer back to my place,” he said. “Bike’s at the house anyways. Ya won’t have to break yer bike vows with Derek.”
I burst out into a tense, relieved laugh at that, even if it hinted at something perhaps a bit on my mind.
Plus, it would mean I’d get to see Tara.
“So… take it we’ll be seeing my friend, huh? Guess we can tell her not to come here, we’ll meet her there.”
Matty chuckled at that, as if he almost enjoyed the craziness about to head his way. Which, compared to the insanity that dealing with the Falcons brought, was probably not the worst idea in the world.
“Girl’s got a cell,” he reminded me. “I can give ‘er the ol’ ringy-dingy an’ tell ‘er to meet us somewhere… Well, somewhere less depressin’.”
I appreciated the gesture, but it only reminded me why I had come. And while we didn’t need a miracle for Derek to wake up, I also didn’t want to miss the moment when he did. Not with him right in front of me.
“I think I’d sooner stay here. You know, just in case anything happens.”
“Don’t make me carry ya outta here, girlie,” Matty said as stretched, as if trying to make himself as big as he did.
Unfortunately, it cost him, because he grimaced, muttered “sheeeit!” and groaned something about how he’d like to shove a spiked dildo up Rock’s ass.
Still standing over me, Matty eventually settled down and placed his hands on his equally large hips.
“Let’s go. These twats know my number an’ know to call it when Derek is done with his crazy-ass nap.”
“They do?”
“Sure, hell, half the big wigs here know us all,” he said. “Ya think they ain’t gonna ring up the man who’ll pick this sorry boy up?”
I just smirked. Old Matty. I’d met him now for all of maybe a combined half hour, and yet there were few people I trusted more in this world than him.
The bear took me in his hand, led me out—but not before I kissed Derek one last time on the lips—and walked me down to a cab waiting. I wanted to make a smartass remark about his ass hanging out of his hospital attire, but I knew a man like him had a black belt in trash talk. Such a move would only burn me in the end—although it would be more of a warm glow of a burn than an actual burn.
Matty stuffed me into the cab and made small talk with the cabby, allowing me to silently retreat to my head.
If Matty survived… then surely Derek would, right? I mean, Matty was the one who sounded like he was on life support, and now here he was, just a day or so later—if that—awake and leaving.
“How did you get out of there?” I said. “Wouldn’t the doctors have tried to stop you?”
“I told ya, girlie, ya think a 100-pound blonde in a doctor’s coat gonn’ stop me?”
“No, but I also know you wouldn’t push such a lady out of the way. You’re too sweet for that.”
“Yer too kind,” Matty said, and I swore I saw him blush just a bit. Not much—but enough that I noticed. “And too damn perceptive. Nah, I had me some connections.”
I shrugged. That seemed good enough for me. So long as those connections paid off when it came time to see Derek out of the hospital—so long as we managed to break him free when the time came—then I would never probe any deeper than I had to.
Time went by in a snap—or Matty had the good luxury of living surprisingly close to the hospital, the nearest suburban place to the urban sprawl of our city—and I found myself glancing up at Matty’s place… which, in what could only be described as the most stereotypical thing ever, was painted pink.
“Don’t tell me you chose this paintjob.”
I said it more as a way to express my thoughts out loud than I did to question Matty about it, but the words came out all the same.
“What? Don’t like it?” Matty grinned. “Well, too bad. Pink’s my favorite color.”
God help me, I couldn’t help it. I fell out of the taxicab in laughter. My stomach cramped in laughter at just how ridiculous this was.
The idea of a large, tattooed motorcycle club member who spoke like he was from the south telling me that he deliberately made his house pink—that his favorite color was pink—was so over-the-top hilarious that I felt like I’d died and been reborn in a Saturday morning cartoon. I didn’t care how gay Matty was—he was a biker first, and the notion that a member of the Savage Saviors had a pink house? Not even the most girlie of girls that I knew would have had a pink house.
Holy shit, that’s amazing.
“There ya go,” Matty laughed as well, patting my back. “It is kinda ugly, ain’t it? Something I didn’t exactly consider when I picked it. But, it’s grown on me, and I ain’t changing it anytime soon. Not till I croak for real, at least.”
I was about to say something—maybe something reassuring or maybe something playfully mean—when the front door swung open. Hearing a familiar, high-pitched squeal, I looked over in time to see Tara running towards us. I gasped as her arms wrapped around me, squeezing me tightly against her, in an embrace that was as much a hug as it was a standing tackle.
I waited for a parade of former Black Falcon hookers to make their way out the door, to give Matty a big bear hug for what he had done… but none came.
“Where are the girls?” I said.
“Oh, they comin’!” Tara said, looking over my shoulder at Matty. “You about to be the host with the most! Get yourself ready!”
“Aww, heavens,” Matty mumbled, but I could tell he secretly enjoyed it.
We moved into a brightly lit living room and sat down on a large sofa. I fell back against the softness, and as if all of the adrenaline and purpose of my morning had worn off, my eye lids beginning to grow heavy. Tara stroked my hair as Matty thumped past. The two exchanged words, but I was suddenly having a very hard time grabbing the words out of the air.
I…
I needed this.
I hadn’t slept but four, maybe five hours last night… and as I thought about how much relief I felt to see Matty alive, but then how much pain I felt upon seeing Derek in his current state…
Tara kissed the top of my head and said something that made me smile, though I couldn’t for the life of me remember what it was a moment later.
She was right. Just like Matty had been right.
I… needed…
I came awake to the smell of eggs and bacon and coffee.
And I have to say, even though I’d spent the past couple of days at Derek’s, aside from the lack of his presence, there was hardly any better way to wake up than to that smell, even if it had come, at best, in the very late morning.
I sat up from the sofa, stretching out and loosing a yawn that was borderline orgasmic as I did. I followed my nose towards the source of the ar
oma and spotted Tara through the divide that separated the living room from the kitchen. She was standing over a stove, wearing an apron over an… otherwise topless torso; a pair of loose-fitting pajama bottoms keeping her from being totally naked.
Well, she always was comfortable with her body. And I suppose Matty wouldn’t care too much, being gay.
I stepped into the kitchen and saw that Matty was sitting at a small table off to the side of the kitchen, looking down at a stack of papers. If I didn’t believe he was gay before, I sure did now—he did not seem the least bit interested in the all-but-topless, beautiful woman just a few feet from him, humming to herself as she cooked a late brunch.
“Mornin’, girlie,” he said, looking up from his work. “Or should I say, good afternoon. Sleep well?”
“I did, surprisingly,” I smiled. “Thanks for letting me crash here, Matty. I obviously needed this. What time is it, anyways?”
Matty glanced over at his phone.
“Just after 1 p.m. Yer girlfriend wanted to cook sooner, but it’s a gentleman’s move to wait for ya to wake.”
“Oh, wow, Matty,” I said. “You’re a saint.”
“No duh!” Tara said, turning to half-face me from her pan of sizzling bacon. “Man bought all this food for me to cook! That man my hero!”
An aggressive amount of side-boob stared back, as well. Not one for subtlety, Tara.
I blinked at the jiggly display and looked back at Matty, who was already consulting his papers once again.
“That doesn’t bother you?” I asked.
He shrugged, not bothering to look up—obviously knowing to what I was referring.
“Tits is tits, girlie. Even I got ‘em. Hell, I especially got ‘em.”
Tara giggled at that and gave three little hops to get her assets bouncing. A pink patch of areola peeked out on the second and third, but went back into hiding once she stopped.
“Long as I’m makin’ bacon he wouldn’t care if I was fisting my—”
“Don’t be too certain, jiggles,” Matty interrupted her, that same “I hate this publicly but secretly love it” look on his face. “Ya can air out the girls, sure, but don’t be thinkin’ this means a damn thing. Jus’ so long as ye’re ready for it when I start airin’ out mine.”
Woah, let’s not turn this into Naked in Nature, I thought, a surreal feeling considering how my professional life as of maybe 48, maybe 60 or so hours ago had involved being naked with complete strangers on a daily, if not hourly, basis.
“Hope you’re hungry!” Tara said, ignoring him. “I’ve got about a pound of bacon cooking here and almost a dozen eggs!”
“That much?” I blinked. “Do you really think we’ll be able to eat all that?”
“Oh, ye of little faith,” Matty scoffed. “What do ya think happened to the other pound of bacon and dozen eggs?”
“Holy shit,” I mumbled.
“Haven’t ya eaten with Derek before?” Matty smirked. “Boys in the Saviors ain’t lightweights, ya know.”I stared at him, stunned. Yes, I had eaten with Derek before, and yes, I had seen him order quite a lot of food in one sitting.
“A pound of bacon? A dozen eggs? And now doing it all over again?”
I didn’t bother to close my slack-jawed mouth. Tara just nodded that, yes, he was serious. I laughed and moved to sit beside Matty at the table and glanced down at the papers he had just moved to the side.
I could see something about the Black Falcons before he moved the stack away even further, setting it face down on the table—it was clearly not by accident.
I looked up at him and saw that his face had gone serious and he shook his head at me. There was nothing remaining of the “secretly loving this” expression he had with Tara; he looked as deadly serious as the night he’d gone out on the mission that nearly killed him.
“What is all that?” I asked.
“Oh, this?” he said, making an obvious gesture to the papers. “This here’s a big stack of ‘ya don’t need to worry about it.’ That’s what all this is.”
I looked over to Tara and saw that she had gone back to cooking, ignoring us as she did. I don’t think she did it with the intent of intentionally disregarding the conversation, but I had a feeling it wasn’t a negative to her. I frowned, feeling that something was up, and leaned over, snatching one of the sheets of paper and looked down, freezing.
The page appeared to be a printout from a series of one-sided text messages:
“The Falcon is sending additional crew into the city. Eager to see a return on lost profits. Not happy about losing product or assets.”
“Enlisting support of known CC allies and dependents.”
“Known Falcons’ informants missing. Increased security measures suggested.”
I had a terrible feeling. I should have known that the war wouldn’t have ended just because Rock had died. I didn’t know who “The Falcon” was, but given his close association with the club name, I had a terrible feeling it meant he had a position of high power in the group.
“What is this, Matty?” I asked again.
Matty let out a sigh that sounded more like a growl and snatched the page out of my hand.
“We…” he said, grabbing it. “Are taking care of it, Eve. These are just notes from an informant we are working with.”
“This didn’t end with Rock, did it?” I bit my lip.
Matty only stared at me. He wanted me to mind my own damn business, know my place, and let the big boys handle it.
I couldn’t lie, the idea of the battle continuing just beat down on my already old soul. But I’d also already rescued Derek multiple times in the face of life-threatening danger; a few more battles wasn’t going to faze me in the least.
“We’re past that mess and working to clean up any others, alright? It’s what we do, Eve; it’s what I do. I been doin’ it for a long time, too—ever since Derek’s daddy first ran things. I knew what kinda work it was then, and I’m still willin’ to do it now. Hell, I love my job! Some new asshole ain’t gonna stop me.”
He sighed, realizing that he couldn’t completely shut me out. I was too involved in that world to not turn a blind eye.
“Ya’ve got a choice, though. Ya both do,” he said, nodding to the two of us. “So if ya don’t wanna be a part of this, ya don’t have to be. We’ll keep ya faaaar outta sight of these fuckers.”
“And leave those girls to the streets where the Falcons can just pluck them up all over again?” Tara asked. “No fucking thanks! Sorry, Roosty Roost—”
“Don’tcha ever fuckin’ call me that again—”
“But this house is gettin’ takin’ over! You heard it here first! I’m gonna fight my own fight! The Black Falcons want some assets? They ain’t gonna have our asses for assets!”
“Oh, heavens, the fuck did I get myself into?” Matty said, putting his hands on his face.
At least we’re back to silently relishing it Matty, I thought, but I knew this was a bit temporary. I wasn’t done yet with the Falcons by any stretch.
“But first, soldiers can’t fight without calories! Let’s eat!”
I glanced down at the heap of breakfast food. While I had thought it impossible to feel hungry with everything happening, I was proved wrong as my stomach let out a loud growl. I swallowed back the panic and concerns I had with the Black Falcons, this “Falcon” character, and Derek.
“And mine?” Matty asked, looking up as Tara settled in beside me and began to eat from her own plate of food.
“Burn a calorie; save your heart,” she said around a mouthful of eggs, nodding back to the counter where the third plate was waiting. “You need to lose weight, Roosty Roost.”
“Whore,” Matty grumbled, pulling himself up to retrieve it.
“Faggot,” Tara said back after him with a laugh.
The way the two said it, I could tell it was a back-and-forth they would soon be sharing—and, from the looks of it, laughing over—for as long as they knew each other.
<
br /> Twenty minutes later and there was nothing left. We had killed almost a dozen eggs and nearly a pound of bacon. Groaning, full, I sat back on the couch, Matty and Tara sitting around me as we relaxed after the meal and I looked over at Tara.
“Thanks for this, Tara,” I smiled. “This was—”
“‘—exactly what I needed,’” both Tara and Matty said in unison.
I blushed, realizing I might’ve said that once or twice already.
“I know,” Tara said with a nod. “Glad to see you back to your usual self, at least somewhat.”
“I think we’re all back to our usual selves.”
Somewhat. And not everyone’s here.
But… it’s something.
And I’ll take something when for so long, I haven’t had anything but nothing.
“So what now?” Tara said.
“Hell, I need a nap,” Matty said. “Before the bombin’ in my bathroom begin.”
“Ewww,” Tara spat back.
“I seen lady’s bathrooms, don’t act like it ain’t the pristine palace of princesses.”
Tara made some remark about how Matty couldn’t be clean if he showered in the world’s purest bath, but her question had made me realize I needed to do something. If I just sat around all day, my mind would wander to Derek… but I didn’t want to spend my day at the hospital and relish in the pain and suffering of Derek’s body. I wanted to enjoy Derek, to spend time remembering the good times we had.
And…
I knew just where to do that.
17
Derek
I saw her.
Not Eve.
Maggie.
She came to me—yes, she came to me. This was not like the normal hallucinations—the ones, I realized with some shock and a weird disappointment, I had not had in some days ever since Eve and I had started hanging out. This was…
She lifted me like I weighed nothing. She chased away the heat with her presence; chased away the smoke and toxins with her very breath. She held me as all of the blood around her and in the room vanished. In fact, as I spoke, the very room around us began to warp—no longer was I in the old suburban home we thought we’d call our own forever.