Hell on Heelz (Asphalt Gods' MC) (9 page)

“But she would have.”

“I can’t. I can’t be like her.”

“No one’s asking you to.”

“You asked Zoey to.”

“You’re right. I asked her if she could ever be my old lady, didn’t want to waste my time if she couldn’t, but she couldn’t do it. It takes a special woman to be able to share her man with the club.”

“And all the club whores.”

“It is what it is.” I shrugged, wondering when Rosa started caring about sharing. Goose and I shared her plenty.

“Don’t you have some ink to get?” She was dismissing me.

Yeah, it was time I went. I was hoping she’d come with, but it was clear no one was in the mood to celebrate with me. It was my own fault. I’d grown distant, acting disinterested in my club brother’s affairs for months while covering for my twin brother’s disappearance.

I rode to Patch’s Ink alone. He had Trudy with him.

As soon as she saw me she unbuttoned a few buttons on her blouse, to show some more cleavage. She joked, “Why they call you Mud? They oughta call you cougar bait.”

Yeah, she was old. She’d been at the club a time or two. Goose and I’d fucked her. I was beginning to think there wasn’t a woman around I hadn’t fucked.

“They call him Mud because when him and his brother first started running for the Gods’, they were dirty little shits, like they were covered in mud.”

“Now, old man, you want me to tell Trudy how you lost that eye?” He’d lost it in a bet of all things. Bringing it up always made him as red as a beet. It shut him up. He handed me a bottle of tequila, and I was glad. I didn’t want to hear my old sad story over and over. My twin was even more sensitive about it. Maybe that’s why Goose left.

Scar and his girl showed up. They were getting her a brand, tattooing on a property patch. The scene was downright sickening—sweet and shit. As Patch tatted my back, my drunk mind and heart longed for that moment for myself, even more with my brother gone. I’d always made fun of him because he was the one always pining away over this woman or that, while I was the one getting all the pussy. At the moment, I wanted nothing but a woman to share moments like this with.

We all shot the shit and had a high old time, talking about all our ink, trying to outdo one another. I’d told them about all my tats but one, the hearts and arrows on my chest that were for my late mother. She’d given Goose and I Valentines the month before she and my dad died. We were twelve-year-old boys and didn’t appreciate them at the time. I remembered staring at the hearts and arrows and thinking it was so childish before I tossed it in the trash. My parents, they’d left us at home to run an errand one Saturday morning and never came back. We were told later that night they’d been involved in an accident, a fatal car crash. They’d collided with a semi-truck. Everyone said not to worry, it happened fast, meaning they didn’t suffer or something. Just as fast, Goose and I were stripped apart.

When I’d gotten the tattoo it hadn’t only been because of my parents but to remind me to never take Goose for granted.

All in all, it turned into a pretty good night. I’d celebrated my backpack—even if it was the Gods’ way of keeping me. I celebrated enough to stumble out of the tattoo shop—couldn’t even feel my back—I guess what hurt was Mad Dog didn’t trust me to stay.

When I made it back to my trailer my back finally burned—but I knew what hurt was knowing I’d never see Goose again.

I called Luscious. “How’s my brother?”

“’Bout dead, no thanks to you.”

“Tell him he can use the cabin. The pact’s off.”

“We’ll be fine.”

“Y’all won’t have a pot to piss in.” Yeah, we’d gotten used to the good life at the club. I wouldn’t give it up. I’d never go back to being a hungry, dirty runaway. Goose would have to go far away from Mobile, stay clear of all the Gods’ territory, start over. I knew this, but I didn’t want it to be true. “Tell him to wait for me at the cabin, and I’ll bring him what he needs.”

Jewel came knocking on my door, and I opened it, seeing two of her. I thought maybe I’d have someone to help with the loneliness tonight.

“Come on in.”

“Uh—swerve. We’re fixin’ to sacrifice Juicy, take her to pound town. Mad Dog asked me to ask you if you wanna come.” Jewel thought she was special, thought she’d be Mad Dog’s next old lady or something.

I didn’t feel like that scene tonight. They’d be hazing Juicy. She’d be becoming a mama, a woman for the whole club to share. All my brother’s would get their turn.

“Nah, go ahead without me.”

I passed out on my stomach.

Rosa woke me up the next morning with a plate of food. “Eat, you’re going to Arizona.” She told me she’d be sending Raunchy too, like it’d help. It wouldn’t. Of course, I’d be honored to protect Scar’s way across the country, get him and his girl home to the General. The mission erased some of my loneliness and gave me a new purpose. I’d pay Scar back for his kindness. I ate quick, showered carefully and joined the crew.

Scar slapped me on the back. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“Fuck, Scar, you wanna ride alone?” My back was on fire. It was hard enough to get dressed.

We’d be stopping in Shreveport to pick up Bones and Cowboy on our way. This chapter of the Gods was led by Skeeter. A young president, taking over only six months ago when the Crusher died, he was callous, cold and overly cautious. What’s more, he was slicker than a minnow’s dick, that was how he’d slid into the position in the first place.

We were all relieved Skeeter was absent when we got to their chapter’s temporary headquarters. Louisiana’s clubhouse had been in New Orleans until Hurricane Katrina. Bones, the vice president said Skeeter was there today. They’d be moving the club back at some point. The Viking of a man, pounded on my back as a greeting. Everyone had a good laugh as I tore off my cut and shirt.

“It’s about time, brother.” Bones said noticing my backpack. I’d gotten a bit more than outline. Like Scar, Bones was someone I respected. His approval made me proud for a moment, but he quickly forgot me.

As usual, Bones turned his attention to the woman. He kissed Anne’s hand, smiling like the devil. The blond haired, blue eyed man got his roader from his fascination—his vast collection of bones and from the bone tattoos that ran all over him. As creepy as that sounds, he was a charmer, behind the bar, pouring Scar’s woman a frilly drink. “Skeeter wants to see us off.” He made sure we knew he wasn’t thrilled with that. “I figure we have time for a few drinks. Leave at dusk.” He handed Scar and me a draft and started pouring his own. No count, Raunchy was on guard outside.

“Sounds like a plan,” Scar said as Cowboy came in like a stampede.

“Who left the gate open.” Cowboy and Scar had sort of grown up together under the General in Arizona. “You’re a sight for sore eyes, brother.”

Just like real brothers they started in on each other. Lifting his sleeves, Cowboy had something to prove. “You ain’t got nothin’ on this, man.”

I stayed back, trying not to think of Goose.

“You’ll always be younger and shorter,” Scar told him, messing his pitch black, wild hair before he punched him in the gut.

Cowboy bowed over and coughed before he laughed, and landed his own swing in Scar’s eye.

“Goddamn it.” Soon Scar and him were crashing into the bar.

“Save your energy boys.” Bones broke them up, his long arms stretched out between them, showing off the bone tattoos he had everywhere except his face. These were on his inner arms, corresponding with the real bones inside. Naked he’d look like a fucking skeleton.

“All in good fun, brother,” Cowboy told him.

Scar disappeared upstairs with his girl. “I’ll be right back down. Give me about ten.”

All of three of us watched them go up the stairs—envious. It was obvious Scar was smitten, and she seemed just as committed.

“Did you ever think you’d see the day?” Cowboy seemed amazed. “At least it’s not Freedom.”

I nodded my head in agreement. There were some crazy women in our club.

Bones crossed his arms. “Women are trouble. They aren’t nothing but trouble, but they are trouble.”

Cowboy went on, “You ever see me like that, just put me down.”

Cowboy and Bones were preparing for Skeeter’s arrival, in other words, preparing for a party when Scar went with me to the back office.

“Can I trust Bones?” he asked.

Bones and I’d gotten pretty close when I’d stayed in Louisiana to help out a while after the Crusher died. “I trust him. He’s PMSing pretty bad though.” It meant parked motorcycle syndrome. “Used to being Road Captain, ya’ know. I hear that now he’s VP, Skeeter has him holding down the fort while he runs around.”

Bones and Cowboy showed up to our informal meeting. They’d sent Raunchy out for lunch.

Bones lit a cigarette. “Hear the Heelz are after you. I’m not worried about them, but the Mutherfukers and the mob, shit man, whose dick did you bite off?”

Scar said right off, “I’m not going to Arizona.” He went on to tell us about why he’d been scarce for the last couple of months. He’d made a deal with the devil, thinking it was a way to save his sister from the Sons of Satan.

Everyone knew the story. The SOS killed Scar’s parents and took his sister, Halley. She was only six. The Gods had been on the SOS’s tail that day and found Scar half dead and took him in. They saved him. It’d been fourteen years now, and the Gods had not gotten Halley back from Serpentine. He was the president of the Sons of Satan who were out in California.

Scar said a couple of months ago, he’d agreed to pay Serpentine a load of cash in exchange for Halley, something the General would never do because he was convinced the girl was dead. “My one mistake was involving the Banshee. She betrayed me by involving the Mutherfukers.” He didn’t tell us how his girl who the mob wanted played into any of this.

He declared, “I never planned to give Serpentine the money. I planned to kill him. The General has been pissing on my bike for ten damn years telling me it’s raining. I have no intentions of heading home to Arizona. I’m getting my sister back come hell or high water. I’m fillin’ that bastard full of lead. Are you in or out?”

Bones stood. “I have my orders, Scar. I can’t go starting a war for one woman.”

My adrenaline had been pumping. “Fuck that!” I told Bones. “You’d be starting a war for your brother.”

Cowboy agreed, adding, “The General told us to bring Scar to Arizona, but he didn’t say when. I say we take a side trip. Besides, fucking SOS wants Louisiana, been seen in New Orleans while we’ve been up here in the sticks.”

“Are we outlaws or not?” Scar challenged Bones.

“You two’d go against your president for him and go against the General?” Bones looked to Cowboy and I.

Cowboy’s answer was easy, “Just like I went against Skeeter for you.” I’d heard the threat and apparently, Bones had too.

He agreed to help get Scar to California, saying, “Only because I’m bored shitless, and I hate Skeeter. Plus, I want a bone.”

I was itching for some real action too and said as much.

“What about Texas? We’re supposed to meet up with Polecat there in a few days. He’s the one gonna take you in.” Bones told Scar, looking serious and a little sorry. He was telling us all something he hadn’t before. “We don’t show up, the General will have a mandatory ride your ass down before you cross the California border.”

Scar took it in stride. “We’ll go to Texas early, meet Polecat when he least expects it and take care of him. Ride on to California before anyone can tell the General anything is up.”

“Take care of Polecat? I like the sound of that.” I slammed down my beer, making a motion of slitting a throat.

They all laughed but were dead serious as we joined hands in agreement.

“Besides, when the General’s gone, I want Scar not Hannibal,” I announced.

“Fuck yeah, and not Skeeter either, or Polecat, or Mad Dog. Definitely not Tremor or Battleax. Fuck, Scar, you’re our only hope,” Cowboy went on.

“I’m too young to be thinking about that,” Scar said.

“General, what is he, seventy now? Everyone’s thinking about who’s next.”

“Your name’s floated through the clubs. You need to watch your back,” Bones warned him.

“That’s what you fuckers are for,” Scar joked, but there was a feeling in the air, one of mutiny. We were forming an alliance against our other brothers. “We need to leave right away to get to Texas early enough.”

When we walked out, Skeeter was back. He’d brought a party from New Orleans with him.

“
Alabama’s in the house y’all
,” Stella announced when she saw me. I was happy to catch up with some of my brothers and sisters I hadn’t in a while. We hung out drinking and cuttin’ up until Cowboy nudged me, telling me, “We’re leaving.”

Bones turned up the music to ear bleed level. Black Betty was blasting when Bones took the first punch, striking one of the biggest of our brothers over the head. The civility fell like dominos as a fight broke out. Beer bottles crashed, chairs were broken. Already sore from my fight with Goose, I tried to avoid as much as I could, but everything seemed to keep hitting my sore back.

We all made it out at the same time, Cowboy, Bones and I, running to our bikes. Scar carried Anne Marie out, slung over his shoulder. I saw Raunchy riding down the road toward us with our food, strapped on the back, but he drove on past. Behind him were at least five motorcycles.

I followed Scar to the freeway trying to keep up, but I lost him as he started lane splitting. Bones caught up to me and signaling to one another, we circled back. Hearing the shots first, we spotting the others in a standoff at a gas station. We pulled in just as some Heelz took off, and one of them was a man.

Looking around, I saw two mutherfukers were sprawled out near the pumps, dead, and innocent people were down, bleeding and screaming. Shit, Raunchy had been shot too. Holding her head, Scar’s girl was on her ass. Cowboy had a Heel by the throat, his gun up under her chin.

“I’m after them. You all go on ahead to Texas. I’ll catch up,” I told them. “I’ll make sure they don’t follow you.”

“Alone?” Bones asked me.

“What kind of man am I if I can’t take care of a queer and a woman?”