Merrick: Harlequins MC (3 page)

“Later.”

Merrick spent the next several minutes composing a text to the Harlequins to round up the brothers. Text sent, he spent a few minutes watching the Houston Astros play ball on television until he finished his beer. He sat the bottle on the floor and leaned back in the recliner, and with the Astros up by two runs, drifted into sleep.

“Listen up,” Merrick said to quiet the group down. They’d had only eleven no-shows, which gave them a packed house. It wasn’t often all the members were in the clubhouse at the same time, but when they were, like tonight, it was a tight squeeze, so he wanted to wrap this up quickly and get on the road.

The Harlequins’ clubhouse was a small house in the poorer part of Laredo. The property backed up to the Rio Grande, with a television transmitter across the street. Nobody wanted the place because of its lousy location and they’d bought it, along with the house one either side, for sixty grand, cash. All three houses were dilapidated pieces of shit that had been sitting empty for years when the Harlequins bought them ten years ago, but after they had gutted and renovated the center house and razed the other two, it was the nicest property on the block. After the clubhouse was finished, they’d had a little trouble with theft, but after a few severe ass-kickings put more than one person in the hospital, the locals realized the Harlequins clubhouse was better left alone, and they’d had no more problems.

Over the years, they had fenced in the yards, paved over a section of one of the lots for parking, and built a small shop with a bike lift and air conditioning, where members could come to work on their hogs in comfort, but there was still plenty of room for grass, a barbecue pit and a large covered area with a mister system where they could gather and enjoy each other’s company.

“We’re going to meet at the Plaza at ten. The production crew will already be there, or will be arriving shortly after. When they get there, if they give you direction on crowd control, listen to them and try to accommodate them. If, for some reason, you can’t accommodate them, send them to me. If they ask you to do
anything
that isn’t related to crowd control, send them to me. If, for some reason, I’m not there, Jacob will be, so send them to him.” He paused a moment. “Any questions?”

There were none. “Okay. A couple more things. I want everyone on their best behavior for this job, but I don’t want you taking any shit from the crowd. We
will
control the crowd, but if you are going to have to get physical, again call me, or Jacob, if I’m not around. If someone is going to bring in the thunder, I want it to be one of the officers, okay?”

“What if someone gets in our face?” Pat asked.

“If someone puts their hands on you, then you stomp them into a greasy spot. Got it?” The brothers chuckled. “I don’t want one of us starting anything, but we are the fucking Harlequins, and if someone wants the hammer, we’ll give it to them. Tonight will be the first night and I expect we’ll be tested. Keep it clean, but if they want to go, you fuck ‘em up. Clear enough?”

When nobody had anything else to say he continued. “We have full access to the food, water, and bathrooms. Feel free to use them, but make sure someone is covering you. The other thing: they asked we not talk to the cast unless they speak to us first.” He waited while the brothers groaned and muttered. “Trust me, I met Poppy Landrieu today and she’s one stuck up bitch. You don’t
want
to talk to her. They didn’t say anything about the crew, so I assume that’s okay. To be honest, we’re going be well away from the action, so it probably won’t come up. Any questions?”

Nobody had any. “Okay, standard cut on this, just like always,” Jacob said. “They’re paying fifteen hundred a day.” That got a couple of whistles, but with so many brothers working, the cuts would still be small.

“Right,” Merrick confirmed. “For the next couple of days we’re going to make a big push to establish our control, then we’ll probably cut back. I’ll let everyone know when and where we’re supposed to be. If you can make the times, be sure to let me know so Jacob and I can schedule.” He paused to give someone time to speak up. “Let’s motor!” he said as he slapped his hands together and rubbed them vigorously, calling an end to the meeting.

***

The Harlequins were waiting as the first production trucks begin to arrive. They quickly establish a parameter around the production crew, taking charge of setting up the barricades. Ten minutes after the first production truck arrived, a ’86 Monte Carlo arrived with a blasting stereo. Merrick smiled as he crossed the barricade and approached the kid propped on the Chevy. They might as well start asserting their authority now.

“You’re going to have to turn that down when they begin to film.”

The kid looked him over with bored eyes. “Who the fuck are you?”

“I’m the guy who’s going to fuck you up if you don’t do what I say.”

“Fuck you, man. This is a free—”

The kid didn’t even have time to complete his sentence until he had his face pressed into the hood of his car, Merrick’s hand on the back of his neck. “The only words I want to hear out of your mouth are ‘Yes, sir.’ Got it?”

“Let go of me, you—”

Merrick pulled the kid up by the neck and slammed his face hard into the hood of his car. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“You fu—” the kid said as he began as he struggled. Merrick again jerked his head off the car and slammed it down again, even harder, making the kid cry out in pain. “Okay! Fuck! Sorry! Jesus! Let me go!”

Merrick let him up. “Now, let’s try this again. You’re going to turn your stereo down, now.”

The kid looked at him and wiped his bleeding nose. “Yes, sir.” Merrick waited until the kid reached in and switched the car off. “Happy?”

“Very. Don’t make me come back over here. Next time I won’t be so nice. Pass the word to any of your friends who show up.”

“Fuck you. I’m leaving.”

Merrick made a lunge at him, as if he were going to attack him, causing the kid to flinch and backpedal so fast he almost fell. Merrick gave him a smile that didn’t touch his eyes, then turned on his toe and walked away without a backward glance, grinning to himself as the kid left with a squeal of tires.
That’s one,
he thought as Tim grinned and slapped him on the back as he passed through the barricade.

***

It was almost midnight and there was a thin line of people crowding the barricade. So long as they kept their voices to normal conversation levels, and didn’t show their ass, the Harlequins left them alone. Merrick, with a few other brothers, had pushed their way through the crowd a couple of times to deal with trouble makers. Most backed down and left, but a few wanted to prove how big their dick was. So far, all of those who had wanted to rumble had left with little more than bruised pride and a few scrapes and bumps, but this latest one was about to get his ass kicked.

“You don’t want to do that,” Merrick said calmly as the guy jumped up from the pavement and pulled the knife, holding it in front him.

“Knife!” Randy cried, starting to move in to help but Merrick held up his hand, never taking his eyes off the man in front of him.

“Get everyone back!” Merrick ordered as ten more Harlequins ran up in support as the man’s friends began shouting for him to stop.

The Harlequins began to push the rest of the man’s friends back, checking them for more weapons and watching for trouble.

“Carlos! Don’t!” one of the women screamed as she was pushed back. There were six men and women there, three of each, who had arrived in three cars, but Carlos was clearly the leader of the group.

“You better listen to her, Carlos, before you get hurt.”

“Yeah? The Harlequins think they’re so fucking tough! Come on! Let’s see how tough you really are!”

Merrick kept his eyes on the man. Carlos looked to be a little younger than him, perhaps twenty, but his eyes were cold and dangerous. Merrick was armed, and could legitimately shoot the asshole now, but killing him would fuck up everything. He gave Carlos a cold smile and motioned him forward with the flick of his first two fingers.

Carlos lunged in but Merrick sidestepped, grabbed Carlos’s arm to prevent him from bringing the knife around, and drove his elbow hard back into Carlos’s face. He staggered from the blow as Merrick grabbed his knife hand and twisted it hard.

The entire crowd heard the snap of the bone as Merrick broke Carlos’s wrist, pulling the knife from his numb hand as Carlos cried out in pain. He drove the knife hard into the hood of the Camaro, not stopping until it hit the hilt. Merrick then pivoted Carlos around, grabbed him behind the head, and jerked Carlos’s head down to meet his fast rising knee.

Carlos’s face exploded in blood and he went to the ground like a sack of potatoes. From the moment Carlos lunged in until he was on the ground, barely more than five seconds had passed. Merrick stood over him a moment, then spat on him.

“Tough enough for you, asshole?” He looked around at Carlos’s stunned friends. “Anyone else?” When nobody said anything he nodded. “Pick this piece of shit up and get out of here,” he said calmly as he stepped back. Tim held out a pair of knives and Merrick nodded at the car. Moments later there were two more knives sticking out of the hood. “The next time a Harlequin tells you to do something, I suggest you do it. If you think about going to cops, I’ll remind you he pulled the knife in front of all these witnesses. That’ll get him a minimum of two years in prison. Think about it. Now get out of here.”

The Harlequins stepped back and watched as Carlos’s friends got him up. He was already coming around, but was woozy as shit with his face covered in blood as they stuffed him into passenger seat of his Camaro. Merrick saw Tim take a step toward one of the guys, as if he was going to give him a dose of what Carlos got, but the kid backed off and got into his own car.

The three cars left, one of the men hurling a defiant “Fuck you!” out of his window before racing away, the three knives still sticking out of the hood of Carlos’s car.

The Harlequins turned back to the crowd, the men and woman clapping politely as they parted to make a path for them.

***

“Looks like there was some excitement tonight,” Blake said as he stepped up behind Merrick two hours later.

“Nah, not much.”

“Blake Teagle,” he said, extending his hand.

He took his hand and gave it a firm shake. “Merrick Capra. You’re one of the cast, right?”

“That’s right,” Blake said, stepping past Merrick toward the barricade. “I’m playing Perry Helmsley, Abigail’s love interest.” He began to shake hands and talk with the crowd, signing slips of paper as they were handed to him. “I can’t thank you enough for the difference you’ve made in production. Not one stop because of the crowd. Are you going to be in charge of crowd control for the rest of the shoot?”

“Unless they fire me.”

Blake chuckled and handed a book back to the woman before taking a DVD box with his face and a roaring forest fire on the cover, and scrawled his name on it. “I don’t see that happening. Not after tonight.”

Merrick shrugged. “Just doing my job.”

“Modest, too. I like that,” Blake said before handing the DVD back and shaking the man’s hand.

“You just have to know how to talk to people.”

Blake chuckled as he signed. “Yeah. Like breaking some dude’s nose and sticking his knife into his car.”

Merrick grinned. “That was to make sure I had his attention.”

Blake chuckled again. “Oh, I see.” He handed a scrap of paper back to someone in the crowd. “Kind of like my mother. First the slap on the head,
then
the discussion about what I did wrong.”

Merrick nodded with a grin. “Yeah, something like that.”

They moved down the line together, Blake signing and shaking hands, murmuring his thanks for the fans turning out to watch. Merrick couldn’t believe the difference between him and Poppy. Blake seemed to actually enjoy talking with the crowd and shaking their hands.

Merrick smiled as the women ogled Blake. He was no expert in male beauty, but judging by their reactions, he was making their panties wet. Whether it was because he was a big movie star or the way he looked, he didn’t know.