For Your Sake (8 page)

The woman tapped a sharp, oval nail painted frosted pink against her chin.  “A large, white-ish stone wrapped in black cord.”

For what?  To mix with eye of newt and frogs toes, Eva thought. Off to the side, Cyndi made the loco gesture by twirling her finger outside her ear to which Eva shut her down with a look. “I don’t have anything like that, but if you want I can custom order…..”

The woman gently took Eva’s hand.  “Listen to them,” she whispered.

Her fingers were ice cold and sent the shiver right up Eva’s spine.  “Excuse me?  Listen to who?”

The woman closed her eyes, engulfing Eva’s hand with both of her own and shook her head.  “Just do what they tell you.”  And with that she let go, shook of whatever it was that came over her and smoothed an imaginary stray hair.  “Yes.  If you find a stone like that, I should like a necklace.”  She then patted Eva’s hand.  “You’re a good girl.  No matter what happens, you know who you are.”

She looked as if she floated out of the store as Eva stood behind the counter, ready to scrape her jaw off it.

“That’s it,” Cyndi said with a stomp of her foot.  “I’m hanging garlic on the door.”

                                                                     
~***~

              Arm’s wide, Aero’s ‘
what the fuck, bro’
look on his face pretty much summed it up when Ben came out of the card store.  Breaking into a jog, he stopped in front of Ticker Liquor where his V.P. was waiting.  “Did you just follow that brunette?”

              Injured eye, my ass, Ben thought.  Aero had hawk vision.  “Vic’s birthday next month.  Checking out cards and killing time.”

              “Uh, huh.  C’mon.  Let’s go in.” Aero’s voice was suspicious and rightly so.  Ben didn’t endure surrounding himself with stuff even to kill time.  Hell, it made him physically ill to watch that reality show about hoarders.  Aero opened the door of the package store, motioning Ben inside.  A blonde girl who barely looked old enough to be working behind the counter immediately puffed her A-cup tits from under a tank top as Aero approached.  “Looking for Joey.”

              “You found me.”

              Before the girl could coyly reply, the person in question appeared from the wine aisle.  Plainly speaking, Guiseppe ‘Joey’ Perrone was an entitled little guinea putz.  And that was putting it nicely.  Barely twenty five, the only way he earned running this place was because ‘the family’ owned it.  It was one of four package stores the Santagio family owned in West Virginia near the four Skulls’ charters – and the very reason the MC set up shop here over two decades ago.  “Three p.m.” Aero told him.  “What’s going on.”

              Without so much as a friendly acknowledgement, Joey jerked his head towards the back.  “Follow me.”

              Ben gave his V.P. a look and rolled his eyes.  They hated this arrogant, smug kid who took his glorified messenger role as some power trip. In a back room with cardboard boxes stacked almost to the ceiling, Joey cracked the emergency door before lighting a cigarette.  “Bottom line, gents – Uncle Emie ain’t too happy with what went down at the warehouse.”

              Really, Ben thought to himself.  They had to waste a meet to get the obvious from some little Italian twat?  “Neither are we.”

              Joey snorted, then took a drag.  “And the stock?”

              “Moved,” Aero quickly replied.  “Safe and secure.”

              “You sure?”

              Disrespectful little douche.  Ben wanted to take him by that thick gold chain around his neck and slam him into the wall.  But Joey was untouchable and knew it.  Because of Emilio Santagio –aka Uncle Emie - the brand-spanking new head of the ‘family’.

              “Positive.”  Aero was feeling the same agitation as Ben.  “Just need to know how to move forward.  Other three charters have been on stand-by the last two weeks to make the run.  By my calculations, another shipment should be coming in mid-October.”

              “Somewhere around there.”   Joey took another drag, then made a skeptical face.  “But, something tells me Uncle Emie may be looking into……other options.”

              The Hancock County charter of the Mountain Skulls first established itself here back in 1989 after partnering with the Santagios who were looking for new muscle.  Easy stuff at first, protection, security, the occasional leg breaking, before a slow, steady trust between the Skulls then-president and Luca Santiago moved them into bigger business. 

              Tippitt, named due to its location at West Virginia’s northern-most ‘tip’, was the ‘mother’ charter.  The little town of less than twenty thousand was a perfect, non-descript spot to hide in plain sight.  New members were eventually recruited for three others charters stationed at the east, west and south points of the state, allowing easy access into Kentucky and Virginia. Tippitt covered Ohio and Pennsylvania and, along with the other charters, helped funnel the east coast with the Santiago family’s new enterprise of in-demand, black market narcotics.  Now after almost two decades, Luca Santagio’s son was reconsidering the Skulls’ role.

              Neither man liked where this was going as Ben folded his arms across his chest.  “Such as?”

              “That, my friend, I don’t know.  But,” he paused to crush his cigarette on the cement floor of the stock room before kicking the butt out the door with his toe, “considering what went down, I’m guessing it doesn’t include the Skulls.”

              Ben’s fists clenched so tight he could feel his veins throb.  No way was this long, prosperous business relationship going to implode over one incident.

              “I can tell you right now, that ain’t an option,” Aero told Joey.  “Santagios and Skulls shook on this in faith.”

              “That,” Joey stressed, “was my grandfather and your former president.  Uncle Emie’s looking to expand, which means more risk.  And after what happened, that puts a big dent in your street-cred, boys.”

              That’s it.  Ben was going to take this guinea asshole by the throat and squeeze until the top of his head popped off.  He stepped forward, only for Aero’s arm to shoot out and hold him back, a gleam in Joey’s eye as if daring the big biker to put his large hands on the golden nephew of Uncle Emie.  The Skulls knew where their bread was buttered, but now that it looked as if this might be their last meal, Aero figured he had nothing to lose. 

              Stepping forward, he pointed at the kid.  “Your cousin may own this store, but Tippitt is
our
town.  When we’re in here, you show some damn, fucking respect.  Now, tell your uncle we’d like a sit-down to discuss these…..
options
.  And if he does wanna part ways, he can consider it an exit interview.  Fair enough?”

                Joey looked properly put in his place, though did his best not to show it. “I guess.  Anything else?”

              Good – the kid was hackled enough to put the ball in their court to end the meet.  Aero pulled his sunglasses out and coolly slid them on.  Looking at the mass of boxes, he spotted a familiar one and walked over to it.  Cracking open the box, he pulled out two bottles of eighteen year old Glenfiddich scotch.  He handed one to Ben then waved his own bottle at Joey.  “Nope, that’s it.  Later, kiddo.”

Chapter Five

              Eva decided to close up at four today.  Friday nights didn’t warrant too much traffic at the store so it wasn’t much of a loss.  Lord knows Cyndi was thankful and Eva couldn’t help but tease the girl who let out her tenth big yawn of the day.  “Going out drinking tonight?”

              Cyndi looked puzzled.  “This a trick question?”

              Eva cast her a sly glance as she cashed out the drawer , ran a z-tape then did a quick check.  “The answer better be no.”

              The young girl shook her head.  “Going home to crash.  I’m sure mom’s gonna give me shit.”

              “For what?”

              “Because I don’t
do
anything with my life.  I mean, I’m here five days a week.  Isn’t that enough?”

              “You pay them rent?”

              Cyndi choked on what was left of her third coffee of the day.  “Uh….no.”

              Coming out from behind the register, cash drawer under her arm, Eva put her hand on Cyndi’s shoulder.  “Maybe what they
want
is some responsibility.  Get a place with some friends.  Pay rent, utilities, groceries.  Be a
big
girl.”  She loved Cyndi.  No matter how exhausted or hung over, she showed up to work on schedule and on time.  Probably because it was the lesser of two evils to sleep off a night of drinking until noon with her mother hammering at her.  But she needed some straight shooting and Eva wasn’t one to coddle her.  Not with how she grew up. 

              “I thought about it.”

              Eva motioned towards the door.  ‘Go on, go home.  And cut your mom some slack.  Least you got one to bitch at you.”

              Cyndi stopped halfway out the door.  “Oh my God.  Is your mom, like, dead or something?”

              The girl had no filter.  And Eva wasn’t about to explain something which needed at least an hour to someone who’d been in her employ for only four months.  Only MaryLynn was privy to her mother being ripped out of their home.  No, she went willingly her dad had told her.  “Or something.”  That’s as much of an answer as she’d give and Cyndi wisely didn’t ask more.  When she left, Eva locked the door and flipped the ‘Closed’ sign over.  She headed into the back office, did another quick count then prepared a deposit for tomorrow.  Stuffing everything into the safe, she grabbed her purse, hit the lights, set the alarm and left.  A bruised headlight greeted her in the parking lot as she got into her car.  At least it’ll be fixed Monday – courtesy of a man who’d been right under her nose in this town. 

              She’d lived in Tippitt all her life before attending business school in Pennsylvania.  After that, it was a shared rental one town over, making ends meet working at the card and gift kiosk outside of town while applying to get her foot in the door at some big, city corporation.  Instead, she wound up learning the business until the owner decided to retire.  After a long talk with her dad, Eva took an enormous leap of faith, as well as a business loan which he co-signed, took over the kiosk and reluctantly moved back in with her dad to cut living expenses.  Going into that house each time had been harder than the last, always insisting on entering through the kitchen.  Never the front.  Not like she did when she was six to find her mother gone only to never come back. 

              Over time she grew the business to where she needed more space.  When the travel agency went out, the inexpensive rent in Tippitt-Over-Two Plaza was hard to pass up.  But it would mean planting herself back in a town she was trying to separate herself from.  And when her father suddenly died, the last thing she wanted was to stay in that house by herself.  Promptly selling it, she banked the proceeds along with the life insurance and meager savings.  No sooner after that, the old Victorian, the replica of the mailbox fashioned like the dream home her dad had promised her, came on the market.  After a quick walk-through and inspections, she snatched it up.  If Tippitt was going to be her home again, then she’d live it in one where she’d make new memories and traditions. 

              And her re-emergence back into town was the reason she never had any prior run-ins with the Skulls.  Now, over the course of forty eight hours, she saw two and was on a first name basis with one.

              Since she closed up early, she decided to take another stab at the cemetery.  Seeing Dell’s across the street, she remembered the wallpaper removal supplies.  Rummaging through her purse to be sure she had her debit card, she wasn’t looking as she crossed the parking lot and landed on the sidewalk – just as Ben walked out of Ticker on the other side of Dell’s.

              Behind him, his air force buddy gave her a whimsical grin before nudging Ben in the back.  Three times in less than two days – no wonder the moon was full last night.  How did she not see the two, big fat Harleys parked in front?  People in the café window seats next door were staring at the outlaw biker and civilian woman awkwardly looking at each other.  Eva simply nodded, then walked towards the hardware store, passing Ben on the way who whispered something when she did.

              “Now
you’re
followin’
me
.”

~~***~~

              He was weary and his head pounding.  And, realizing he hadn’t ingested anything but coffee all day, Ben was also famished.

              After heading back to the clubhouse, he sat around the bar with Tanner and Taz while Aero quietly briefed Doug off in the corner.  Shooing away the girl behind the bar, Ben reached over and grabbed a handful of shot glasses, pouring three with of the free scotch they brought back.  Saluting, the men tossed them back in unison.  The fermented liquid made Ben’s empty stomach burn.  So did the acrid aroma coming from the back kitchen area.  “What is that stench?”

              “Girls attemptin’ to cook,” Taz replied. 

              Besides a sweet bar setup, the upside about converting The Water Rock into the Skull’s clubhouse was a full, commercial kitchen.  Other than Tanner, who had an old lady and kid living outside of Tippitt, and Vic, the remaining guys were bachelors.  And the ‘club girls’, who were as much a fixture as the swivel stools, were more than willing to satisfy their other appetite.  At times it turned into a warzone in the kitchen, with the guys sometimes having to pull the girls off each other.  It was fierce competition to prove their skills and, hopefully, land themselves an old man.