Stone - Big Girls & Bad Boys (12 page)

“We’ll be right behind you,” Dusty told us.  We wished Dusty good luck and then Stone walked over to Bobby.

“Let’s do this.  We can settle all the other stuff later,” Stone told him.  Bobby seemed to be ignoring him but nodded.

“Yeah, fine,” he said.  Stone turned to me and rolled his eyes.  I walked over to Bobby as Stone went to the van but he stopped to watch.  I leaned close to Bobby.

“If you fuck this up, I’ll shoot you myself.  Got it?” I told him quietly and showed him the pistol in my jacket.  Bobby looked at it and then back at me.  He almost opened his mouth to respond but I gave him a hard look.  He didn’t respond.  I walked past Stone.  “Let’s go,” I said.  Big Mike’s Impala roared to life and Bobby started his bike.  Dusty climbed on his bike and kicked started the chopper.  A moment later, they followed us out of the parking lot on our way to put this behind us.

“What did you say to him?” Stone asked.

“I wished him good luck,” I said.  Stone cocked an eyebrow at me followed by that familiar smirk.

“Whatever you say,” he told me, knowing damn well I didn’t wish Bobby luck.  I laughed.  I was scared out of my wits but I couldn’t deny that I also felt alive.  I wanted to get this over with but the fact I was going to meet the Jamaicans made me feel...I don’t know...powerful.  I wasn’t letting events dictate to me.  I was taking action and it felt good.  I’m sure I could discover other, less dangerous, ways to feel this way, maybe owning an illegal gun or getting a bike of my own, but taking control felt good.

It was a half hour drive to the reservoir.  Stone and I barely spoke.  You could cut the tension with a knife.  We finally arrived at the spot the Jamaicans had chosen and it looked like they hadn’t arrived yet.  Then several pairs of headlights flared to life up ahead in a stand of trees.  Stone lead Bobby and Dusty towards them.  The Mikes had told us over the radio that they were parked a quarter mile back.

They had brought more guns, just in case, but hopefully, we wouldn’t need them.  One of the Jamaicans appeared out of the glare and held up his hand.  We stopped and more vehicles appeared out of nowhere and surrounded us.  Stone shut down the van as the two choppers parked alongside.  Stone smiled at me and pat my leg.

“Let’s do this,” he said.

“Right behind you,” I replied.  We climbed out of the van and approached the lone Jamaican.  As we met him, more Jamaicans appeared.  I was confused.  They weren’t black.

“I assume you brought the guns and our money,” the man asked.  He was in skinny jeans and a plaid shirt.  He wore a knit hat, glasses and an automatic rifle slung over his shoulder.  What the fuck?  I looked about and the others were dressed much like this guy, some in plaid shirts and others in t-shirts, all of them white.  One had a prominent marijuana leaf in the familiar red, yellow and green colors.  Another sported dreadlocks and a Bob Marley t-shirt.

“In the van,” Stone answered.

“Show me...and no funny business.  You’ll be dead before you hit the ground,” the man warned as he leveled his rifle at us.  These guys were potheads, Rastafarian wannabes.  But they had guns and they weren’t what you’d expect from a bunch of pot smoking slackers.  Maybe that was by design.  Jamaicans was just a name.  They certainly weren’t from the island nation.

Stone and I walked around the van as the apparent leader of the so-called Jamaicans followed, his gun trained on us.  Stone opened the rear doors and let the man look in.  “Feel free to inspect the cargo.  It’s all there.  Your money, every dollar, is in the duffle,” Stone assured him.

The Jamaican leader whistled and two other gang members appeared out of the glare of the headlights all around us.  They sported more Jamaican and Rasta colors and images.  They reeked of pot.  They climbed in the van and opened the top of the crate.  They pulled guns out and set them aside, inspecting and counting as they went.  Soon, they were placing them back inside, inspecting them a second time.

“They’re good to go, Davy,” one said.

“So, the Knights kept their word...this time,” Davy said to Stone.  I noticed other Jamaicans had surrounded Bobby and Dusty.

“The Knights kept their word.  Last night was a mistake by a soon to be ex-member,” Stone replied.

“The terms have changed.  We want the guns, our money and him,” Davy told us and pointed at Bobby.  Bobby went for his gun but the other Jamaicans seized him before he could do anything with it.  One relieved Bobby of the gun as the other slugged Bobby in the gut.  Bobby doubled over in obvious pain.  He really wasn’t very smart.

“You want him?” Stone asked.

“You don’t want trouble.  The Jamaicans don’t want trouble either.  You give us what we want and we’ll forget all about last night,” Davy said.  Davy didn’t look intimidating but his confident demeanor carried some weight behind it.

“We want you to forget about the Knights entirely.  We didn’t want this.  This was Bobby’s idea and he did it without the club’s consent,” Stone explained.

“Then it sounds like we’re in agreement.  We get our guns, our money and a plaything.  You get to leave alive.  Perfect,” Davy said.  Stone exhaled and stared Davy down.  I wanted to leave.  I wanted out of here and bad.  But even I couldn’t see leaving Bobby.  He was an asshole but these guys would kill him.  Would Stone agree to that?  I shouldn’t have even questioned it.

“I can’t do that.  He’s a Knight as of right now.  I can’t give him up,” Stone told Davy.  The man frowned but Bobby couldn’t keep his mouth shut.

“Yeah, fuck you,” he shouted and winked at Stone.  Stone shook his head almost imperceptibly as one of the Jamaicans hit Bobby in the head with the butt of his rifle.  Bobby crumpled to the ground as I winced.  I didn’t like Bobby.  If I had any respect for him, I’d lost it the previous night.  But I didn’t want to see him hurt...or killed.

“Then we’ve got a problem,” Davy said.  Before I knew what was happening, Stone pulled his pistol out so quick it was a blur.  He pointed it at Davy’s chest but Davy had his rifle barrel pressed against Stone’s stomach.  “Stupid, man.  You can’t win,” Davy said coolly.

“And I’m not leaving without him.  I might die but so will you,” Stone said, equally calm as if this was a normal occurrence. I held my breath as the two men faced off.  Other Jamaicans turned their attention and rifles on us.  This was exactly the kind of thing I feared.

“That pig mean that much to you?” Davy asked.

“I’m loyal to a fault,” Stone replied.  Davy’s eyes searched out his fellow Jamaicans.

“One word, one look, and you’re dead,” Davy said.  The Jamaicans surrounded us and Davy was probably right.  Any one of them could pull the trigger and end this.  I swallowed hard.  This got serious real quick but I wasn’t about to let Stone die without a fight.  I hated to say it, but I agreed with him.  I wasn’t going to give up Bobby to these gangsters.  He was an asshole but he was a Knight for now.

I felt powerless to do anything suddenly.  What could I do?  Stone could kill Davy but then we’d all die.  But Davy could easily signal to one of his gang to take Stone out.  Stone might get a shot off or he might not.  And then, we’d all die.  I couldn’t see a way out but I wasn’t going to die without doing something.  I glanced down at my jacket and the answer came to me.

“If he dies, you die,” I said as I pulled out my pistol and put it to Davy’s temple.  I didn’t have too, but I pulled back the hammer to impress upon him that I was serious.  “Put your gun down and call off your dogs,” I said.  Davy looked out the corner of his eye at me and a smile crossed his face.  I wasn’t sure what that meant.

“Back off,” he ordered his gang as he lowered his rifle.  He began to laugh.  I wondered what he would do but I didn’t flinch.  I held my gun at his temple, my finger pressed against the trigger.  I didn’t want to pull the trigger...I promise I really didn’t...but if it meant keeping Stone alive, then I’d do it.  “You’ve got balls,” Davy said as he let the rifle hang from the sling and raised his hands.

“What?” I asked, trying to figure out what exactly Davy was doing.

“You’ve got balls.  Fine, you can have the prick.  Let us unload the guns, grab the money and you’re on your way,” Davy said.  Stone glanced at me.  I shrugged.  “I’m a man of my word.  I really only wanted the guns.  The money is a bonus.  Taking him home was like the cherry on top.  Can’t blame a guy for asking,” Davy said.

Stone lowered his pistol and I followed suit.  I carefully uncocked the hammer after it was pointed at the ground.  I half expected the Jamaicans to kill us right then and there but they didn’t.  Davy was a man of his word it appeared.  He held out his hand and Stone shook it.  Then he held it out towards me.  I shook it as well after a moment.

“Your old lady?” Davy asked Stone.

“Yeah,” Stone replied.

“Lucky man,” Davy said and winked at me.  I couldn’t help but smile.  The Jamaicans unloaded the crate and grabbed the money.  They dragged Bobby, still unconscious, over and tossed him into the van.  The tension wasn’t completely gone but it had largely disappeared.  We had a deal and both sides were satisfied.

“What about his bike?” Dusty asked as he watched the proceedings.  I didn’t know how to ride so I couldn’t take it.  Even if Bobby woke up, I doubt he’d be in any shape to ride it himself.

“We can have one of the Mikes get it,” I suggested.  Stone stroked his beard.

“No,” he replied and called to Davy.  “It’s yours if you want it,” Stone told him.

“It’s nice.  Thanks,” Davy said.  I looked at Stone, wondering why he did that.  So was Dusty.

“Teach Bobby a lesson,” Stone said.  Dusty shrugged.  I think Dusty was done with Bobby just like we were.

“Serves him right, I suppose,” I said.  The Jamaicans loaded the guns up into one of their trucks as Davy approached us again, the duffle full of money slung over his shoulder.

“We’re even.  Last night is forgotten.  The Knights are forgotten,” he said and turned to leave.  But he stopped short and looked at me.  I felt a bit self-conscious suddenly as Davy looked me up and down.  Davy unzipped the bag and reached inside.  He pulled out a couple of bundles of bills and tossed them at me.  I caught them.  “Buy yourself something nice,” he told me and walked off without another word.

I stared after him and then looked up at Stone.  He shrugged, as confused as I was.  The Jamaicans left us alone, the air choked with dust by their passing.

“What happened?” we heard behind us.  Stone and I turned and saw Bobby sitting up and rubbing his head.

“We saved your ass,” I said.  Bobby shook his head.

“Where’s my bike?” he asked.

“I let the Jamaicans have it,” Stone told him.  Bobby came to life upon hearing that.

“You let them have it?  What the fuck?  That’s my bike.  You can’t do...,” Bobby began to rant but we cut him short as Stone and I slammed the van’s rear doors in unison.  We could still hear him shouting inside.

“Maybe we should have let the Jamaicans have him?” Stone said.  I chuckled.

“Hindsight’s twenty-twenty,” I replied.  Stone laughed

“I just wish he was still passed out,” Stone told me and pulled me close suddenly.  “I’m proud of you,” he said.  I blushed though I didn’t mean to.

“Thanks,” I said.

“You’re okay, right?” he asked.

“Yeah.  My knees feel a bit weak and I might pass out once it hits me, but I’m good,” I told him, only half joking.  Stone kissed me.  That helped.

“Hello?” Dusty called out.  I’d forgotten he was there.

“What?” Stone asked.

“Can we leave or are you two going to make out?” he asked.  I laughed.

“Let’s go,” Stone said.  We parted and walked around the van and climbed in our respective doors. I radioed the Mikes and let them know everything went well and to head back to the clubhouse. Bobby had shut up and was rubbing his head.  He looked like he might puke but thankfully he didn’t.  A half hour later, we arrived back at the clubhouse.