by J. C. Allen
“No, no, no,” he said, a sheepish smile on his face. “Much as I would like to get inside you—without this in my hand, mind you—this erection you see is mostly just the result of me being indescribably attracted to you. This, however.”
He held out the knife, retracted it, and then pulled it out again. This was no pocketknife, however—this was much longer and sharper, not quite a steak knife, but definitely something that could penetrate skin if need be. It was undoubtedly a weapon.
“This is to protect you.”
“A knife? I have the handgun Roost gave me, isn’t that enough?” I asked, glancing up at how concerned he was.
But to my surprise, he didn’t seem fazed at all by what I said.
* * *
“Guns can attract attention, run out of ammo, and require you to have precise aim. A knife is a great melee weapon and can be much more subtle, plus you can use it unlimited times. I’m not saying I hope you use this, but… use this if you think you can handle it.”
Should I cancel with Tara?
I’d seen him this concerned only a handful of times, and if Falcon’s numbers were growing, maybe it was better. I already felt a bit uncomfortable with the idea of a gun in my purse, and now I was adding a knife? A knife that could fit into my shorts’ pockets, and yet kill a man with a well-placed stab?
I did know a bit more self-defense than before, it was true, but I didn’t want to invite the need to use that.
Before I could change my mind, though, Derek had slid the pocket knife into my hand and pushed me onto the elevator as the doors opened.
“Try and have a good time,” Derek said, smiling. “You’ll be safe. It’s just in case the one percent worst-case scenario happens.”
“Alright, I will,” I said, smiling back. “I love you, Derek.”
“I love you, too,” he said.
“And put some pants on!” I shouted as the elevator doors shut, drawing laughter through the metal doors.
The laughter was nice, but I really needed to calm myself. I glanced down at the pocket knife still in my hand and moved my thumb, pressing the release on the blade and watched as the sharp blade swung out. I was surprised at how fast it was and nearly dropped it. Taking a deep breath, I slid the blade carefully back into place and once I was sure it was secured, I slid it into my pocket.
“Well, Eve, you once hated the idea of carrying any kind of concealed weapons, now you’re toting a knife and a gun,” I whispered to myself. “Times have really changed, haven’t they?”
At least as far as days to go out, I had chosen a beautiful morning. It was the last of summer, and today was the first day I was actually noticing the arrival of fall. I started to walk down the street, headed towards Carl’s Café. I felt free, relaxed, and comfortable.
And then I started to feel followed.
I moved my hand towards my pocket, surprised to feel how comforted I felt just from having the knife on me. I made a quick motion, pretending that I needed to check my purse, and saw three guys walking a few paces back. Shit. Falcons, probably. They don’t look friendly, that’s for sure.
I narrowed my eyes, turning to the left and heading down a different side road. I cursed as I saw how quiet the street I’d turned onto was and wondered if the guys were still following. Deciding I didn’t want to be ambushed, I slid into a small opening between the buildings, only big enough for one person and waited.
Within seconds the guys were walking by, a look of confusion on the three’s faces. After the third had moved away from my view, I slid out and watched as the three conversed amongst themselves.
“Are we sure we saw her?”
“No, she was a ghost. Of course we saw her, dipshit. She couldn’t have gone far.”
“What if we took a wrong turn? Let’s keep moving.”
The tallest one sighed.
“I should’ve brought Jeff and Terry over.”
“Hey, you wanted—”
“Stop talking and find the whore.”
With that, the three moved out. I must have waited a good five minutes before I moved out on the street, keeping my hand in my purse at all times. I kept looking around me, careful to see if they followed me, but I never saw them again.
That didn’t mean, however, that the stalking was done.
I managed to get to Carl’s Cafe and met Tara inside, but she must have picked up on me being a frazzled mess, because she hugged me unusually tight when she saw me.
“You OK, girl?”
“I was followed here,” I said. “Falcons. I don’t doubt it.”
“Should we call Derek and Roost?”
I bit my lip. Derek was likely sleeping now, and while I would need his presence when we left—a ride never hurt—at this point, we were in too public an area to be attacked.
This, at least, is what I wanted to believe. I didn’t have anything to the contrary yet—no sign of the Black Falcons came my way, and I had never known them to execute a public strike—but times were changing, right? And what better way to make a point than to stage a public kidnapping?
That’s what the gun and knife are for, Eve.
“We will when we finish,” I said.
“OK, if you say so. I, personally, think we should go find them and kick their ass.”
“What?!?” I said, just as the waiter came by. “Hi, we need two milks, no coffees, and just your standard breakfast plate please.”
The waiter looked at us, confused, but I wanted Tara occupied by food and not awoken by coffee or battle. The calmer I got her, the better.
“Alright… OK then, I’ll get that in,” the waiter said, quickly turning back.
“I don’t mean right now,” Tara said with a laugh.
“Even still, are you crazy?”
“Oh, heavens, Eve, do we need to rewind the VCR and replay the conversation from yesterday?”
I sighed. No, no we did not. I’d come to this diner in the hopes of relaxing a bit, of not having to deal with as much motorcycle club stress as before, but I was clearly failing if I rehashed this conversation.
“Just promise me you won’t do anything without the support of the Saviors.”
“Mmm… maybe,” Tara said, which wasn’t a good enough answer, but for the sake of having a relatively peaceful breakfast, I let it go.
But truth be told, over the next twenty minutes, I had no such luck. Our food came quickly, but I found I didn’t have much of an appetite. Tara seemed too tired to engage in any real conversation. This meant I had to have a conversation with myself and my head, which always worked out well.
By the time I put down a credit card to pay for the meal—which Derek had nicely provided a hefty sum on—I was exhausted from the stress I had given myself. I pulled out my phone, watching Tara sheepishly eat her toast, and texted Derek.
“Was followed to shop. Can you grab me?”
I put down the phone and smiled at Tara as she finished. The waiter came, ran my credit card, and brought it back.
“You promise me you’re gonna be OK, girl,” Tara said with a smile. “You have me worried.”
“I’ll be fine,” I said, checking my phone and frowning upon realizing Derek hadn’t replied. “I’ll have Derek come and pick me up.”
“You sure? Don’t be lying to me now. I don’t need you being stressed over here.”
“Tara, I’m fine,” I said, but my tone clearly didn’t match it. “I just need to be home. But I think for the next little bit, we need to make sure we only eat at Derek’s or Matty’s house.”
“OK,” she said, yawning. “I’m gonna head out then. You sure—”
“Yes, Tara,” I said with a sigh. “Sorry. I just need space.”
“Understood,” Tara said, rising, not quite in a huff but certainly not pleased with herself.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine, I swear,” Tara said. “You’re right, though. Only at the boy’s places. Be safe, OK?”
Tara came over, embraced me ti
ghtly, and left. I watched her take a left turn out of the restaurant, away from the direction of Derek’s place. I watched closely for a group of three men to suddenly veer left and move with purpose…
But nothing ever appeared.
I guess they gave up. Maybe I was just overly paranoid. I should’ve known that the Falcons don’t have the manpower to watch us all the time.
I rose, thanked the waiter as I headed out, and took a right. Just because, however, I realized my actions may have been paranoid didn’t mean I wasn’t going to be safe. I put my hand by my purse, ready and prepared to take action if need be.
And then I saw them coming right at me.
They walked casually and were about a block away, walking as if they were three gentlemen on their way into the office, but I knew full well what was going on. If I kept walking, they were going to grab me and lead me somewhere. If I turned around, I’d have my back to them, and they’d just follow me wherever I went.
But, to my left was the road, and the morning traffic made it impossible for me to cross safely. To my right was a side road that had multiple alleyways. I’d eluded them once this way—perhaps I could do it again.
And so, just when they looked the other way, I took a sharp turn right.
Right into an alleyway without any escape.
“You’re a hard little whore to catch.”
I turned around to see one of the men, a balding guy with a missing tooth, approaching with an evil grin. I took a step back and immediately cursed myself for making such a move. I might have been able to retrace my steps before, but now there was no getting around the three men.
“But all whores pop up eventually, they’re too desperate to suck dick,” another one sneered.
“Fuck you,” I growled, trying to find my positioning. I didn’t want to pull out my knife or gun until I absolutely had to—I didn’t need Falcon knowing I was armed and dangerous until the last second. “If you’re smart, you’ll all run.”
The three men looked at each other, looked at me, and gave mocking laughter.
“Oh, that’s rich! The whore got all talkative when she went to the Saviors! Isn’t that amazing?”
“You think I’m fucking around?” I said. “Turn around, get out of here, and you won’t get your asses beat by the Saviors.”
“Ohhhhh,” they all said, like teenagers who had heard a weak threat from the middle school nerd. “What’s he gonna do, drown us in his tears?”
More snickering and laughter came. It occurred to me how much this resembled high school and how much I fucking despised it even more now. At least now, I had weapons to defend myself with, and with Derek’s connections, I could avoid serious jail time.
“Last warning,” I said, and inside, I thought, Derek, now would be a real good time to check your messages. You better wake the fuck up.
“Wow, you are spunky,” the middle one, a tall blonde, said. “I would have thought that you would have folded by now. No worries, we’ll all take turns having our way with you. Boys.”
The two approached. I decided there was no turning back now. If I so loved violence…
I feigned submission. I kept my hands by my purse as the men approached, pretending to realize I was in a battle I could not win.
And then one put my hands on me, and in a swift motion, I took the knife out, sliced the man’s throat, and caught the other one on the arm.
“Fucking whore!” he roared.
“Get her! Falcon wants her alive!”
The man whose throat I had caught fell to the ground, gurgling and soon to be dead. I didn’t have time to think about how I had just killed another man and instead turned my attention to the second guy.
“You fucking bitch!” he growled, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a knife of his own—a much bigger knife. “You wanna go? I’ll fucking slit your throat!”
“Alive, Jared! She needs to be alive!”
“Falcon’ll keep your sorry ass alive even if I stab you in the chest,” he growled.
He roared as he charged forward. I stepped to the side and swung my own knife, but it missed. He turned, swung, and I fell to the ground. I tried to rise, but then the knife came down into my chest.
I screamed in pain, writhing on the ground as tears came out. I tried to find the strength to retaliate, but the pain was so intense that I couldn’t muster anything up.
“You stabbed her in the heart, you fucking moron!” the tall blonde said.
“What was I supposed to do, perform surgery on—”
But before another word came, the tall blonde pulled out a silenced gun and shot the man dead. He turned his gun to me.
“Falcon wanted you alive, which you would’ve been if you had just cooperated,” he snarled. “Instead, I’m going to have to say Jared killed you. A shame, really. We were all looking forward to raping you, whore.”
I sought the words to fight back, but I was losing consciousness. What a way to go out. What a way…
Derek… I’m sorry. I love you so much. You saved my life. You made these last three weeks so… so special… Derek…
“Any last words, whore?”
Forgive me… Derek… wasn’t strong… enough…
“Figures. Your mouth was better used for sucking anyways.”
I closed my eyes.
And then the gun fired.
Epilogue, Pt. 1
The clock had struck noon, and my promised delivery had not yet arrived.
I stared at my watch with some bemusement at my guards, who looked nervous that the promised arrival had not yet happened. This afternoon would mark a special, unexpectedly opportunistic occasion, and yet with the clock having passed the hour of most opportune celebration, to say I felt upset was an understatement.
Not that my men would know that, of course. To show emotion was to show weakness, and I never showed weaknesses. The Black Falcons didn’t deserve to have weaknesses.
But that didn’t mean I couldn’t verbalize my frustration and disappointment.
“Gentlemen,” I said. “As I understood, I requested that my gift be delivered to me an hour ago. It is now in the afternoon. Does anyone care to explain to me why your peers are so ineffective that they cannot even provide me something so simple?”
And then someone’s phone buzzed.
“Go ahead, Larry,” I said. “Take a look. Perhaps it is an update on our delivery.”
Larry, a muscular, short man who undoubtedly had the most severe Napoleon complex of anyone I knew, hurriedly grabbed his phone, which looked tiny in his hands. He looked at his phone and turned red. This did not please me.
“They found Rocket in the alleyway dead with two of his men,” he said. “And the girl was gone.”
Gone.
Gone?
“Gentlemen,” I said with a long sigh, an effort on my part not to pull the trigger on Larry. “How is it that I can kill Dominick Knight and Dustin Knight with almost no effort on my part, make Derek Knight’s life insufferable, and raise the prestige of the Black Falcons to above that of the Savage Saviors, but when it comes to one little whore, my entire operation gets cut down to a third of what it once was?”
“Maybe she is dead.”
Someone was foolish enough to say that, and that someone quickly got a bullet to their skull from me.
“Let me make one thing clear,” I said. “Though our operations and games of the last week have bought us the time we need to grow back to where we were, we do not operate on maybes. To do so is a good way to get us all killed, in jail, or put in such a state we will wish we were in one of the two. Until we have confirmed kills of Derek Knight, his fag, and his whores, I will not let this operation have any downtime. Do I make myself clear?”
Everyone gave their nod and verbal assent.
“Do whatever you have to do to find Derek Knight and kill him and his whore. I no longer care enough to inquire into his soul. He has brought me enough damage as it is. I do not care if you have to light his
apartment on fire or blow up a hospital. Those two are the only thing standing between me and conquering this city. Do I make myself perfectly clear?”
Again, everyone gave their understanding.
“Gentlemen, our efforts have made Derek and the Saviors impatient. Soon, this will all come to an end. But we must stay vigilant and live up to the standards of certainty, clarity, and perfection that I set when we created this club. Let me make myself clear.”
I finally smiled, the better to let them know how much I would enjoy this.
“Dead or alive, bring me Derek and his whore. If they are dead, we will show destroy their bodies and show them to the Saviors. If they are alive, we will record their torture sessions and then show them to the Saviors. Either way.”
I let out a laugh.
“They will die.”
Epilogue, Pt. 2
The Black Falcon laid dead before me, having held his gun just a few feet away from my girlfriend. Eve was wounded, a knife in her chest, but from what little I had learned of anatomy from my father’s visits, Roost’s visits, and my own, I felt quite certain that the knife had just missed her heart. That was not the greatest danger right now.
Instead, it was her bleeding.
I threw her on my bike and roared through the roads, speeding toward the same hospital that had saved my life. In a less stressful and urgent time, I would have to buy that hospital some sweet drinks and a hell of a lot of meals as a thank you for saving so many of our lives. But not today.
“Help!” I roared as I picked her up and carried her through the ER reception lobby. “I need help now!”
Thankfully, the doctors did not disappoint, immediately taking her to a nearby room. I followed, at which point a smaller, probably fresh new doctor came forward and asked me to stay behind. I growled, said I’d stay out of the room but would watch, and he didn’t bother to say anything else.
They took her to a room, conducted some immediate surgery and some work, and had the knife removed within minutes. A short while later, a nurse came out, blood on her hands and on her lab coat.