by Joy Blood
“Not telling you shit.” I’m about to pull the fucker to his feet and go a few rounds to get shit out of him when he slams forward and drags his neck along Sage’s knife before he can pull it back. Blood starts to pour from the man’s neck as he starts sputtering and choking on his death. Shit.
“Goddamn prick.” Sage pulls back and kicks him in the face with his massive boot.
“The fuck did that prick mean?” Rock asks, looking directly at me.
“Don’t know shit, Pres,” I say honestly.
“We can figure that out later, let’s get the hell out of here,” Sage says, kicking the dead man one more time before getting into the truck. Rock and I follow, stepping in and starting our drive back in silence. We are all mulling over the same thing. I decide to send a text out to Premo who is more than happy to agree, saying that he will be sure to put a bullet in any one of the bitches that crosses into his territory. I pass on the invite to the patch in party and he is also agreeable to that, too. I think for a moment about bringing Kimi to the party. Shit, I don’t know if I want her there around the Siberians, not that she would willingly come along anyway.
Twenty-Nine
Jake
None of us have heard from Gin since he took off after the meet with Flores. Him being MIA means no one can tell him about the false information. He could be any number of places but Montana is my first guess. And I only needed one.
The small shack that Rico tracked down was owned by Gregory Mathers. AKA Gin. The place looks run down and near falling apart. I don’t see his bike out front, but I do see a decent sized shop to the right of the shack. Parking my truck, I step out and look through the small cracked window on the front door. A small cot is set up in one corner and a dirty sink and a microwave sitting on the countertop on the other. No Gin though. “I take it you are looking for me?” a voice says from behind me. Turning, I come face to face with the man I have been searching for.
“How ya been?” I ask, stepping down the soggy steps, careful not to trip on the wet mold.
“I’m good,” he tells me, taking a step closer and wiping his hands on a grease rag. “You got some news,” he assumes, walking past me to go inside. I follow him in and take the offered seat, the only chair he has in the place. He sits down on the small cot and from where I am seated, I could reach out and smack him in the face if I wanted to, that is how small this place is.
“Nice place.”
“Like it? I find it to be homey,” he jokes.
“Info was a setup,” I tell him, needing to get out why I came here. I watch as his face grows dark then he gets off the cot to pace the tiny as fuck room.
“Fuckin’ pricks. You have Premo break the cease-fire?” I nod in answer. “Good. The fuck happened?”
“Rock and me walked in, they shot up the place,” I explain, rubbing at the scar on my neck as if it will help. “Sage got ‘em all. Questioned one guy, he gave some vague ass shit ‘bout shit getting worse.”
“The fuck does that mean?” Gin mumbles to himself. “Think they are in with ‘em? The traitor bitches?” he questions. The thought had crossed my mind, and would be a good hiding spot. I just can't think of what they would give Flores in exchange for protection. Could be something on the club, but with Flores being as far away from us as it is there would be no reason, it just doesn’t make sense. I know Gin is forming his own thoughts. “Would explain why Reek can't find shit on them.” I nod my agreement. “Can’t go back yet,” he says after a long pause.
“Know. What is here?”
“Old promise,” He tells me vaguely, but I have an idea. I know that he took on a responsibility when one of the members died during the shit with Ellie in Chicago. The guy’s name was Fuzz. Only met him briefly at the clubhouse there, couple days before Vin shot me in the foot. Yeah. In the fucking foot. Have a nice scar to prove it. Fucker is lucky it only left a scar. He shot me to stop me from going with him to get Ellie. Avil had her and the club decided not to get involved, this was before I started prospecting. Before I thought I would become a member.
Vin went and left me bleeding in the hallway of the clubhouse there in Chicago. Gin and Fuzz had convinced a few of the brothers to bring backup and just three hours later they all came back. Short one man. The shit hit Ellie hard, I remember. They were damn close.
Fuzz left behind a daughter. Not sure what her name is but I overheard Ellie talking about her to Gin, asking who was going to look out for her now that her dad was gone. Gin said he would.
“What are you doing here? Besides tracking my ass down?” He knows me all too well.
“Reek got me,” I stop, swallowing thickly then continue, “the lock on Key’s uncle.” I finally get out.
“Shit. Need some help?” he asks as I get to my feet.
“Got this.” I give him the curt answer as he extends his hand to shake mine, which I take and grip it tight.
“Thanks for the update brother. I will be back, soon as I get shit squared away here.” More vagueness coming from his mouth. Guess he won't let on as to what he is up to.
I step out of the shack and walk toward my truck. Kimi’s uncle only lives an hour away, so it won't be long before he is dead and I can go back home to the clubhouse.
I approached Rico about a week back and asked him to track down the name and whereabouts of her piece of shit uncle. He is still alive and sells meth out of his piece of junk trailer. I hold up the picture Rico had given me, a mugshot from three years ago. The man staring back at me is a sorry fucking sight. Sunken in cheeks with pockmarks riddling his face so bad there isn’t a clear spot left. But the slight family resemblance is apparent. Those eyes. Her eyes.
* * *
The torn apart trailer in front of me is the home of Joseph Jones. The man tasked to care for Kimi after her parents were killed in a car accident. It’s out in the middle of nowhere. The empty plains of Montana rolls on for miles, the beauty of it all muddled by the task at hand. The lack of houses make it perfect for what I’m about to do.
There is one lone truck sitting outside, and if there is anyone inside the sorry excuse of a house, the noise of my truck hasn’t alerted them to my arrival. Tucking my gun into the waistband of my jeans, I start my walk to the trailer.
I take a glance around the place and try looking through the windows, but they are all covered in tinfoil. I decide to just go and knock on the front door. What greets me is a shell of the person in the picture Rico gave me. If that is even possible. His clothes hang off his boney frame and he is holding his sweatpants to keep them from sliding down. They could very well have been white at some point in time along with his thin tee shirt, now they are stained with who knows what.
“The fuck are you?” he questions, as he looks me over. I can tell the moment he recognizes my cut. His eyes grow wide and he starts to back away but I don’t let him get far. Gripping onto his crummy shirt I push him inside and slam the door shut behind us. The smell from inside hits me, causing my stomach to protest, but the anger fueling me pushes me on. “You can take whatever you want. Take it. I got plenty of meth. Have it.” He squeals trying to get away from me, so I help him. Pulling back with the hand gripping his shirt I lift him up and launch his body through the air, effortlessly sending him crashing down onto what looks to be a table under a pile of garbage. He lands with a thud, sending pieces of trash through the air. Pulling out my gun, the blood visibly drains form his face, leaving his forehead coated with sweat, tears of fear coming from his eyes. “Who are you?” he cries out through his sobs. I get right up in his face, squatting down to the trembling sack of bones on the floor.
“Kimi Jones,” I say, causing his eyes to widen. “Yeah, motherfucker.” He starts shaking his head but the barrel of my pistol in his mouth stops his movements. “This’ for her.” The loud bang goes off, sending bits of his skull and brain matter spraying out along with the rest of the garbage.
I stand from the squatted position, leaving the man with a hole in his head
and a new paint job on his living room wall. One less piece of shit in this world. I decide to take a look around the place, wondering in the back of my mind if this was where she lived while he had her. Opening the rooms one by one I find my answer. There is a small room with a lone mattress on the floor but what catches my eye is the drawing on the wall. A kid’s drawing. Stick figures, three of them. I can only guess it’s Kimi and her parents. Trees and a sun are in the picture and the stick figures all have smiles on their faces.
I bite back my anger and go to the last door on the end of the trailer. I find what I’m looking for when I open this one. A complete meth lab. It looks like he may have either finished a batch or is maybe in the middle of one. Looking around the room I find what I need and start a small fire on the dirty hotplate. Before too long the trailer should be up in smoke.
Walking out, I leave the door open and walk to my truck, then wait a few minutes before taking off. I listen for the sound I know is coming. The explosion. I didn’t think was going to be so loud but it practically blows the side of the trailer clean off. Chuckling at the sight, I open the door and step inside my truck, starting it up as the smoke billows out of the large hole in the wall.
Pointing my truck in the direction of home, I hold the peddle down and don’t let off until I’m crossing state lines.
Thirty
Kimi
I’ve been back at school for over a week now and still no Jake. On one hand, I’m glad he hasn’t showed up, but I’m also slightly dejected. I try to tell myself that it doesn’t matter, or that he is doing what I asked and keeping his distance. “Hey Keeks, you ready? Class starts in ten,” Ari says, interrupting my daydream. Crap.
“Yeah. Just a sec,” I say, grabbing my notebook and stuffing it into the bag I had been staring hopelessly into. Like it held the key to all existence, or just the answer to why Jake hasn’t called, text, or stopped by. Okay, so maybe I want to see him. Sighing, I pull the strap of my bag over my shoulder, following her out of our small dorm room.
The dorm is a bustle of girls running everywhere. To and from the showers and out the door. People late for class or just coming in from their night and skipping the classes their parents are paying for. Dodging past the throngs, we make it out the door and take off at a fast pace to our first class, Bio Chem. I always dread this class and any other I have with Zeke or Blake. They have kept their distance since Jake put the fear of the badass biker in them, but sometimes, like today, the hot pricks of daggers are being stared right at the back of my head.
Ari and I, as usual, take our seats in the front. Typically the only ones left. Not that we mind. The professor drones on about molecular mechanisms and I find myself zoning out again. When the bell rings, it makes me jump out of my stare down with the trash can located next to the desk the professor was perched on the whole hour. “Hey. See you at phycology,” Ari says as she stuffs her things back into her bag and abandons me, still sitting at the desk. I voice my goodbye and stand from the desk only to get tripped by a large foot. My attempted correction steps falter and my palms are the first to hit the floor, hard. I land with a loud smack on the linoleum floor. Laughter erupts at my clumsiness and I can pick out the voices that come after.
“Oops, sorry didn’t see you there, princess,” Zeke says in a condescending tone.
“Need some help there, Pocahontas?” Blake’s voice comes next. I raise my eyes up to see the both of them walking off laughing to one another. They left. Good.
Taking a deep breath, I get to my feet and take a quick look around to see I'm the only one left and no one, not even the professor is around to witness my embarrassment. I brush it away and walk out of the room, ready to get on with the rest of my classes.
The day drags on and when the last class is released, I take a deep relaxing breath. I want nothing more than to go to my room and sleep. It feels as though this week has dragged by so slow. I know sleeping the weekend away isn’t an option though. I still have piles of homework I need to get done from when I was gone and too much studying to even consider a nap. My thoughts get washed aside when my attention lands on a familiar figure sitting in the parking lot next to my car.
My steps falter as I walk his way, I damn near trip onto the soggy ground. It has rained all morning stopping around noon, leaving the outside still thoroughly wet. I wonder for a moment how long he had been sitting out here and if he had to ride through the rain. Why isn’t he in his truck?
I keep my eyes trained down as I get closer to him, knowing full well that if I were to look up, I would be a goner. I don’t pay him any mind as I open the door to my car. Starting it up, I drive back to the dorm room. Ari told me she was getting a ride with Sam, and since I don’t see his truck in the lot I assume they have already left. Pulling away, I watch in my mirrors as Jake takes each turn I do, all the way back to the dorm. I don’t know what to do. I want so badly to talk to him but I want to tell him off too, tell him to leave me alone like I had asked when he came to Vin and Ellie’s to apologize.
When I get out of the car I don’t have a chance to decide either one because he is already off his bike opening the front door for the rooms. He doesn’t say anything, neither do I and the quiet is deafening. We walk up to the room and he, again, opens the door for me. When we walk in I almost expect to see Sam and Ari on her bed going at it, but the room is empty. I almost wish they were there having sex to break this awkward tension. Before I can even sit down Jake is grabbing up my suitcase and tossing it on my bed. This gets me talking.
“What are you doing?” I question, setting my bag full of heavy books down onto my unmade bed. Wondering if this man was even going to show back up like he said he would. I suppose I got my wish, didn’t I?
“Gotta be at the club this weekend,” he says as he goes to my drawer and starts looking through my things, pulling out clothes and tossing them into the bag
“Well I don’t! Put my stuff back,” I demand, as I start grabbing the things he is packing to put back into my drawers. “I have too much homework to do, and after what happened last time I was there I don’t think I will ever go back again,” I say, raising my voice a little higher than it needs to be. I watch as he freezes for a brief moment then his shoulders slump.
“Bring your shit. Can take Ari if ya want,” he says catching me off guard. My eyes widen.
“Ari?”
“Yeah. Backup and all that,” he mumbles and continues to go through my things to pack my bag. When he gets to the top drawer I watch his scowling face grow to a smirk. Oh God. He turns and looks at me, his bottom lip now clenched in his teeth, making it turn white for a moment. When he lets it go, I watch as the blood quickly rushes back, making his lip pink again. I don’t have to look down at his hand to see what he has clutched in his fingers. Something I bought on impulse—a red lace corset with matching satin thong. I saw it one day when Ari and I were out shopping and she convinced me to get it. The thing has been sitting in the bottom of that drawer for weeks. I had completely forgotten about it, until now.
Jake doesn’t say anything, he doesn’t have to. I can tell exactly what he is thinking as he places the garments into my horribly packed suitcase. I start to protest, but he shakes his head and points to my books. “Get it all. Can do it while I’m workin’.” His words seem like they are coming easier but he keeps clearing his throat as if it’s still bothering him. I quickly look around to see if I have any water, but find none. “Call your friend. Tell her to—” he gets cut off as Ari walks through the door, eyeing the both of us with curiosity.
“Going somewhere, Keeks?” she asks stripping off her bag and tossing it onto her bed.
“Um, yeah. The club for the weekend.” Her shoulders slump, her face one of slight jealousy and confusion. The confusion mainly because I had told her what happened with Jake last time I was there, and that I would never go back.
“All right. Have fun.” She gives me a weak smile and plops down onto her bed to start digging through her
bag.
“You…want to…come?” I ask hesitantly. I’m not sure if I want her to go, but the way her face lights up I know darn well I won’t be taking it back.
“Are you serious? You are actually going to bring me?” She sounds like I just told her we were going to Disney World. She has been hinting about coming back with me, to experience the club life on her own. I’m not sure why I was holding off.
“Yeah. Get packed we will be leaving…” I look over to Jake for guidance.
“Now,” he says, slamming the lid to my suitcase then zipping it shut.
“Oh crap. Okay. Give me five. I will be ready to ride.” She giggles after that. “Ride. Like a biker.” She laughs and shoots me a smile. I give her an eye roll in return. “I’m so excited,” she mouths and starts packing.
True to her word, she is done packing exactly five minutes later and we are out the door. “Follow you. Take your car,” Jake says as he starts for my car. The Camaro he brought me a couple of weeks ago is still sitting in the same spot he left it in. I haven’t been able to bring myself to even look inside it, let alone directly at it. Jake opens the trunk to my car and tosses in the suitcase then waits for Ari to put her own bag in before slamming it shut. He looks at me then to the car sitting next to mine. “Will bring you back. Use the Camaro. Busted my ass to fix it up for ya,” he says with a slight smirk on his handsome face before he leans in and grips my elbow to pull me closer. His lips brush along mine then pull away leaving me wanting for more. Which I’m sure were his exact intentions. I watch as he walks to his bike before going to the driver’s side of my little car and getting in.
“Looks like you two made up,” Ari states. My shoulders shrug before responding.
“We’ll see,” I mumble and start up the car. Driving onto the highway, I watch out of the rearview as Jake follows on his bike.