Hell on Heelz (Asphalt Gods' MC) (8 page)

When Scar came out, he came straight for me. “How’s it hanging, brother?”

“Hanging in there like a hair in a biscuit.” It was something Goose always said, just like our dad had.

He cut through the shit. “He isn’t your brother now.”

“I know.” I took a swig of my beer. “He’s out bad, but we should leave it at that. It’s not like he betrayed us. He’s not a snitch.”

Scar seemed to take this in, digest it. “You know where he is?”

He knew I knew. It was no use lying.

“You know the rules. Unless Mad Dog or the General let him leave, we have to prove a point. At least he hadn’t earned a back pack.”

No, Goose didn’t have our colors tattooed on his back. I didn’t either. We hadn’t been patched members of the club long enough. But the important point was that Scar was talking about burning off his ink if he’d had some, he wasn’t talking about killing him, not yet. I exhaled a bit. “Bounty’s on him. Anyone without a patch or a backpack are already after him. Polecat’s looking too.”

Scar grimaced, I guess knowing what Pole Cat would do, what anyone who hadn’t earned a backpack would do if they found Goose. They’d use the opportunity to show how brutal they could be.

Anne leaned on his arm, listening to our conversation. Scar called Jewel over. She was one of our mamas.

She’d been setting up for our party tonight, dusting off our stuffed gator that sat under a huge rebel flag the club had had hanging on the wall since they’d been the Highway Rebels, before they were patched over by the Asphalt Gods’ MC—way before my time. Jewel dropped everything and slinked over to Scar.

Pale with green eyes and unnaturally dark hair, Jewel did anything and everything for our club, cleaning our trailers and warming our beds. Pass around pussy, she was everyone’s whore. Free pussy, anytime you want it was nice at first but came with its own drama. Jewel also ran our strip club.

“Jewel, sugar, this here’s Anne Marie, show her ‘round.”

“She your sweetie?” Jewel asked Scar like it mattered.

“Sure is.” Scar kissed Jewel’s cheek, and I watched his woman’s eyes narrow.

“I’ll be back before the party. Keep Anne with you, no matter what.” He told Jewel like Anne was a prized possession. Then he turned my way. “No one’s looking for Goose except Polecat. Mad Dog’s called everyone to church, but they won’t start until I get back. You ready to go get Goose’s originals?”

Nodding my head, I took a deep breath. I was putting my brother’s life in Scar’s hands all because of a woman’s word.

“Meet me out front.”

I was about to do just that when Rosa appeared out of nowhere saying she was coming too. Dressed in tight holey jeans, a studded belt, matching boots and a black Harley t-shirt under her cut, her dark curly hair was pulled back in a braid, making her look even more badass if it were possible. It was like she had eyes and ears all over the clubhouse, but what she actually had was Scar-dar. Rosa wouldn’t miss a chance to flaunt herself in front of the Gods’ golden child.

“Thought you didn’t know where he was?” She was talking about Mud.

“Don’t lie Rosa. You never thought that. You think he’ll kill Goose?”

“Scar? No.” She shook her head. “He’d probably think too much about Halley.”

I’d forgotten Scar’s obsession—his lost little sister.

“You think she’s still alive after all this time?” It’d been years since we’d rode to California to rescue her. Five years to be exact. I’d just started prospecting at the time.

“Alive?” Rosa’s voice said it all. “No I don’t, but I don’t think he’s given up.”

“You think he’d spare Goose just for that.”

“He’s not going to kill Goose, long as I’m there.”

Rosa and I fetched our hogs to meet Scar who idled in front of the clubhouse.

She took off her brain bucket and shades. “The prodigal son returns,” she greeted him with no inflection in her voice.

“How’re you Rosa?” Scar didn’t look too happy to see her.

“Finer than a frog hair split three ways.” She said looking down the road. “I hear you finally offed that Banshee Bitch.” The corner of Rosa’s mouth quirked up at that.

“Had to be done,” he replied, making me worry more for Goose.

“Rosa thinks the more witnesses the better,” I said, explaining why she followed me as I tied back my hair and strapped on my helmet.

“Yeah, I don’t know if your Daddy will forgive ya’ this time,” she joked with Scar, still talking about the Banshee but kept her signature unimpressed expression on her face. Rosa put her helmet and shades back on.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Scar threw his cigarette butt down.

She held her mouth tight before saying, “Watch your back is all. We going or what?”

They both looked to me so I took off, heading to where Goose said he’d be, hiding at his whore’s aunt’s trailer, a county over.

Speeding down the highway, I thought of how my brother had trusted me, told me where he’d be and here I was selling him out. But it had to be done though. Blood in and blood out was the way of the club. We were family and once you left, you’d bleed.

Smelling it first, I spotted the Sewer plant and turned left. Pulling into the trailer park down Cooter Lane, we found Goose’s chopper right away. It was hidden under a tarp when everything else was out in the weather. It’d been a dead giveaway.

“There’s only three of us. I can do some crazy shit with two cocks, but I can’t ride two bikes, can y’all?” Rosa stated the obvious.

I didn’t even think of it before, but my brother taking his motorcycle when he left was as bad as leaving itself. The club’s money had paid for that bike. We could kill him for that alone. I kicked Goose’s Harley over. “Could’ve brought the crash truck.”

“There’s no time for that.” Scar seemed to be in a hurry as he found a crow bar next to the row of junk lining the chain link fence. He struck first, planning to destroy the bike. I spied a metal baseball bat easily, the sun bouncing off it. With it, I started to take out all my frustration on the bike, but too soon Scar stopped me, motioning toward the trailer. I knew what we had to do and wasn’t looking forward to it. We’d have to treat Mud like this bike. My eyes met Scar’s, a silent plead for mercy. He dropped the crow bar, and I took it as an answered prayer.

Rosa took over destroying Goose’s ride. She brought out my long chain to drag his bashed Harley down the road with hers as Scar and I went to the trailer.

I stopped on the front stoop, hesitating as Scar knocked on the door. There was no reason for him to go easy on my brother. He’d dropped the metal bar, but he was as armed as I was. When we heard rustling, footsteps, Scar’s hand went to his piece. Mine went to mine too as I pondered who I’d be shooting if guns were drawn.

Goose actually answered the door. It was hard to see my brother cowered, scared like he was. I’d never seen him like that before.

Scar took ahold of him, “Where’s your whore?”

Goose said Luscious had locked herself in the bathroom. He begged us to leave her alone.

Scar tossed him to me, saying, “You’ll need to prove where your allegiance lies.”

My brother got his balance back. Rosa stepped in the trailer as Goose and I circled each other. We’d fought all our lives like brothers do, just because we can, but this time was different. Goose and I were parting ways. I’d remain a club member, and if we weren’t killing him now, Goose would be killed if he didn’t get out of the Gods’ territory, all of them.

I punched first, hitting his lip—that brought my twin to life. Goose’s face told me he didn’t plan to go down without a fight. He grabbed my hair and landed his fist in my eye. I was seeing double as he went for my neck, wrapping his hands around it. Our fight became an all out brawl as I kneed his groin. We knocked over shit, pictures fell off the wall. We fell together into the glass and rolled. He got up first and kicked my ribs before I tripped him and he fell. We were equally matched, pounding on one another so long that Scar stepped in to help me.

The two of us had Goose beat easily, reduced him to a huddled figure on the floor.

“That’s enough,” Scar finally said when Goose was no longer fighting back.

I breathed a sigh of relief, internally because externally, I was panting. Scar walked me out the door, handing me Goose’s originals. “Tell him we’ll be along.” He was talking about Mad Dog.

“Will it be enough?” I asked, wondering if this would appease them.

“Mercy, brother. Like you said, he didn’t snitch.”

I rode off knowing Scar didn’t want me around for something, but I didn’t think he’d be killing Goose. Rosa had been pretty adamant that wouldn’t happen though I thought she had plans for Luscious. I didn’t care whether the bitch lived or died.

As I rode, I thought about mercy. It wasn’t something I expected much from the club and our ways, but knew from how they’d taken me and my brother in, in the first place, they were capable of it.

I arrived at the clubhouse just as a Mutherfuker was leaving. I’d recognized a member of the Miami Mutherfukers’ MC right away by his white cut. He’d come alone or at least he was leaving alone. I rushed to the back of the clubhouse and was relieved when I saw everyone was inside and unharmed. Mad Dog stopped me before I could go in, took me to the hall. “That girl with Scar has a bounty on her, one hundred grand.”

“Who? Anne Marie?”

“Scar’s gone an’ killed the Banshee and Lucifer.” He shook his head, looking bewildered. “So, where’ve you been.”

I handed him Goose’s cut and told him we found my brother and took care of him.

“Dead?”

“No. But he’ll be pissin’ blood for awhile.”

In church things went better than I thought. Besides some objections from Fat Willi, the consensus was to call off the bounty on Goose as long as he skipped town.  Rosa upped the ante, suggesting I’d earned a backpack. Mad Dog second it, and I acted appreciative but knew it was their way of saying they’d take the hide off me if I deserted them like my brother.

Rosa said she’d get ahold of the ink slinger we used to see if he’d stay open late. Patch Miller only had one eye, but he was the best in town. “We’ll at least get the outline tonight,” she added, patting my back.

Yeah, they wanted a big piece of my skin to claim and fast. Scar passed and I gave him a long brotherly hug. He’d saved Goose’s life. “You ought to be there. Patch’s got a couple extra hands now. You need some ink? That sweetie of yours need some ink?”

“I’ll see if I can get away. You go on.” Scar joined his woman. Jewel had dolled her up like one of the whores who’d be stripping tonight, in daisy dukes with a plaid shirt tied up to her belly. Her hair was teased big, southern girl style too. It was such a change from how she looked before that I couldn’t help but be amused.

I went to the bar, wanting a whiskey and something harder for the pain. I could feel my face was swollen.

“You think maybe you should clean the blood off you?” Rosa was behind the bar, slinging beers like her mama used to.

I’m sure I was a sight after fighting with Goose. She threw me a wet towel—it’d have to do. I wiped my face and tossed it back to her.

The music was getting louder as my brother Henley, named so for his husky voice led his five-piece live band in a rendition of Whiskey River. Soon they’d be playing Sweet Home Alabama.

Rosa handed me a joint—it’d have to do for the pain too since we had rules about anything harder within the clubhouse walls, something about not shitting where you ate. The General made too much bank off the clubs to let a drug charge bring him down. Regardless, what my brothers did in their own trailers were on them. I knew Smoke could hook me up if I needed it.

I smelled B.B.s cooking, and my stomach rumbled. I hadn’t eaten much since Goose had left. Rosa joined me at the bar with her plate. B.B. had gone all out for Scar, making meatloaf and fried chicken, taters, beans, a mess of fried green tomatoes and of course her famous cornbread muffins.

Jewel grabbed the mic from Henley before he could belt out some more Skynyrd. Her girls from the Lair, the strip club were with her, all dressed alike. Studying their legs sticking out of their cut off jean shorts, their navels and cleavage showing, I realized I’d already fucked all of them before.

“Ladies, we have the prince of the Gods here tonight. Gentlemen, we have a special show for all of y’all.”

The clubhouse, full of smoke filled with even more noise as Henley played louder, something for the girls to dance to. My brothers and their guests called and whistled to the ladies taking it all off. Two buck naked strippers went straight to Scar, giving him a lap dance. No one came near me with Rosa at my back. Jewel looked our way before going down on Mad Dog. She pulled out his dick right in front of us, gray pubes and all. Rosa stormed out. Her father hadn’t gotten any public action since her mom died. Since I wasn’t getting any action either, I followed Rosa outside. Her thick curly hair almost covered her miffed expression. She sucked on her cigarette like it’d make it all go away.

“She’s not around to turn a blind eye anymore.” Rosa was talking about her mom, a proper old lady who let her husband, the president, be a man in front of his brothers.