The Filthy Few (Iron Disciples MC) (9 page)

This time
its dad’s turn to break down. Before that day, I had never seen my dad cry and
it scared the hell out of me. He had to be strong for us. We were losing our
mom. He couldn’t break down too. What I understand today, I didn’t understand
or even think about then. Yes, we were losing out mom, but dad was losing his
best friend; his wife. She was the love of his life and she was leaving him
too.

Mom lasted
longer than expected. In fact she lasted so long we actually thought that
maybe, just maybe she would beat cancer.  She didn’t. On the morning of her
birthday I discovered she had succumbed to her disease. The medical examiner said
she expired sometime during the night. She hadn’t quite made it to her 42
^nd
Birthday. That was the worst day of my life! 

The front door
shutting brings me out of my dream. As usual when I dream about that day I wake
up feeling like I have been crying all night long; even though I slept for
maybe an hour tops. I just feel totally strung out now and the last thing I
want is to talk to anyone, especially Cade.

But I roll over
and prop myself up. I have a decision to make here. Do I tell him about his brother’s
treachery or not? I know it’s not my business, but if I were in his shoes I’m
certain I’d want someone warning me about being betrayed no matter who was
doing the betraying. I don’t like the guy, but I can’t sit here and pretend I
didn’t hear what I heard and it would be cruel even for me not to tell him so I
have to. Actually the one deciding factor is the fact that those idiots swiped
my pills. I have to tell him or he’ll accuse me of taking them all and I’ll
never be able to get any more. Sadly, that’s the real reason I going to tell
him about his brother.

“Hey uh…Cade!”

“What’s up
babe?” He asks, walking in the room.

“Babe? What’s
up babe?”

What the fucks
up with the babe business. I have half a mind to not tell him now. What’s up
babe…for fuck’s sake?

“What is it?”
He asks. “You’ve got that serious look on your face again. What happened
Morgan?”

“You had a
visitor while you were out.”

“Really? Who
came by? And how did whoever it was get in? I know I locked the door. Did you
actually get up off your ass and answer the door?”

“No I did not
get up off my ass and answer the door. Do I
look
fucking stupid to you?”

“I’m sorry, I
was just alarmed. I sometimes have to associate with some shady people.”

“No shit, you?”

“Just tell me
Morgan, who came by to see me?”

“Well, they
weren’t actually here to see you. They must have picked the lock and they were
looking for something.”

Suddenly his
handsome face turns dark. His easygoing smile turns down into a menacing look.

“Who the fuck
came by Morgan?” He says in a dark steely voice.

“I didn’t
actually see them but it was your twin brother and some guy who sounded like he
gargles with rocks every morning.”

“Dammit! Did
they find what they were looking for?”

Suddenly he’s
pacing the room, his fists clenching and unclenching.

I didn’t open
my eyes. I was pretending to be asleep. They came in and saw me as soon as they
got here so they didn’t stick around.”

“So they didn’t
say anything and didn’t find anything then?” He asks.

“They did talk
until the saw me. They were looking for some files about people or something
and they were going to make a plan against you.”

I wish I could
remember exactly what they said. I was so scared I just couldn’t concentrate
well on what they said.

“I see…”

“Oh oh I
remember now. They said something about finding out who is on your list and
they are making a plan to counter anything you do. Something like that. Does
that make any sense to you?”

“Unfortunately
yes.”

“So you know
what that was all about then?”

“Pretty much.”

“I have to ask you
something and I want you to be completely honest with me.”

“Okay.”

“What would
have happened to me if I would not have pretended to be asleep?”

He has to think
for a few seconds, but I think he is not trying to deceive me.

“It depends on
how much they said and how much they think you heard. It may have also depended
on what they guessed our relationship was; whether we’re a couple, friends, or
just acquaintances.”

“I see…So what
were they talking about?”

“Office
politics,” he says with a smile.

“Very fucking
funny. I don’t peg you for an office kind of guy.”

“I’m the
president of the club and my little brother is the vice president who is not
content to be just the vice president. He wants my job and looks like he’ll
stop at nothing to get that top position.”

“I see…”

“Your brother,
he’s how many years older than you?”

“Oh you’re
good, you’re very good; but flattery will get you nowhere.”

“He’s younger?
Wow, in all seriousness, he looks like he’s three or four years older than
you.”

“Well he’s
around that much younger than me. But we do get along. Or maybe we only get
along because he has no interest in my job so there’s nothing he wants to steal
from me.”

“You really
think that?” Cade asks.

“Fuck no. We
are, as we Millennials say, tight.”

Then he
launches this seemingly endless diatribe about motorcycle clubs and his
brother’s place in the pecking order and why he needs to be happy where he’s at
and that he’s not fit to be in the top slot and blah blah blah… I focus as long
as I can but I can only take so drivel; I am human after all.

“I’m sorry, you
lost me.”

“Uh…okay. Where
did I lose you?”

“Right about
when you said,
my brother has always said…”

“Wait…really?
That was the first thing out of my mouth.”

“Yeah, sorry
‘bout that.”

“You don’t have
many friends do you?”

“I have loads
of them.” I retort.

“Really…so name
your best friend.”

“Juld…dly…” I
barely manage to spit out.

“Julddly?
What’s this Julddly’s last name and her cell number?”

“Mayfiel-. Oh
fuck! No, I don’t have a lot of friends. I’m not a friendly person so fucking
sue me already!”

“Yeah…you’re a
pretty scary person. It takes guts to be exposed to you day after day.”

“You make it
sound like that’s a bad thing.”

“Bad…no, it’s
just who you are.”

“Tell me how
you earned your Filthy Few patch.” I say, showing my own nerves of steel.

“Wow…you sure
know how to keep the conversation lively.”

“I bore pretty
fucking easily.”

“I’ll tell
you-“

“But then you’d
have to kill me, is that it?”

“Do you see a
lot of movies? Suddenly I get a picture of you every weekend sitting in the
dark by yourself watching movie after movie. No, I won’t have to kill you. They
only do that in unrealistic movies. What I mean is, once I’ve told the story I
can’t un-tell it. And you won’t be able to forget it either. It’ll change you
and it’ll change how we relate to one another. Are you sure you want that?”

No, I’m not
sure but I’m sure as hell not gonna say no; not now. I need to know if this guy
is a stone cold killer or if it’s something completely different. Cade takes a
seat in the recliner and puts his feet up like it’s going to be a very long
story. I better get comfortable as well.

“So…I was
about-”

“Oh for fuck’s
sake, who the hell is that?”

Someone has
just walked in the front door. I look down at my watch and right away I know
who it is.

“It’s your
cousin. She had to go to an office meeting.”

With a sigh he
gets up and I know the mood has been broken. He’s not going to tell the story
with his cousin looming about; even if they are as close as she claims.

Stacy walks in,
takes one look around and guesses it.

“I’ve
interrupted something.” She says. “Shall I go back to the office and come back
later?”

“No, it’s
already late. Let’s just finish up so you can get to watching American Idol.”

I know she
likes to watch American Idol so when I can I try to cut her loose in time to
watch it.

By the time
Stacy fills me in on everything I missed at the office and helped with a mound
of paperwork it’s nearing eight. I’m not a fan of the show but since I’m kind
of a captive audience I may as well watch; it’s not like I can do anything else
anyway. We have a few glasses of wine and before you know it, it’s nearly
eleven and we both have to be ready to work again by 6:30am for the open of the
stock market.

“Look Stacy,” I
begin as she’s heading for her bedroom. “I’ve kept you up way late. Why don’t
you just wake up at 6:30 tomorrow? I’ll be fine and if I need you I’ll just
holler.”

We both know
she’s not going to do that but social niceties dictate that I at least make the
offer. Why I have to make it in the first place when she won’t listen anyway is
beyond my comprehension. But then, I’m that way with a lot of things. I get so
wrapped up in my work and my very narrow life that I fail to see how the rest
of the world manages to get by. I had a hard time tonight concentrating on
anything and I know I’m going to have a tough time sleeping too. Not only do I
not have any pain killers, but I can’t wait to hear his Filthy Few patch story.
With nothing to help me sleep I may not get much shut eye before my own alarm
wakes me at five.

I’m not
generally a light sleeper. But tonight, regardless of the fact that I am dead
tired, I wake up less than two hours after I finally crashed for the night.
Judging from the dim bluish light coming from the kitchen I’m guessing someone
is raiding the fridge. A couple minutes later I hear at least two different
voices, maybe three. I can’t really tell what they’re saying. They’re loud
enough to be heard but no loud enough to be understood. If I could have gotten
up without the use of crutches I probably would have done so and checked it
out. It’s just too much a pain in the ass so I just lie here and wonder what’s
up. Soon after the light goes out and the voices disappear I drift off only to
wake up again when I hear the front door opening and closing. It’s still dark
out. I glance at my watch; it’s four in the morning. I wonder what was so
important that it needed discussing all night long. When my alarm wakes me at
4:45 I feel like I haven’t even slept a wink. This is going to be a long day. I
can also feel a shitty mood coming on. I have been all night with not only no
pain pills but no aspirin or any other over-the-counter pain relievers either.

At 5:25am Stacy
walks into the living room, takes one look at me and guesses my mood.

“It’s gonna be
another SFB day isn’t it?” She asks.

SFB is her way
of saying shit for breakfast. When I am in a foul mood she says I act like I
had [S]hit [F]or [B]reakfast instead of my usual Wheaties.

“Yeah…it’s gonna
be one of those days. My benefactor kept me awake last night with his all night
get together. They finally left about an hour ago. Did you not hear them?”

“No way. I
sleep like a rock. Besides I’m used to guys coming in all hours of the night to
conduct business. While that is a bummer, you could do worse than my cousin for
a benefactor.”

“True.”

“Well,” Stacy
begins.  “You usually have to put out for most bene-. Oh wait, you already did.
That makes him your sugar daddy then doesn’t it?

“Hey,” I protest.
“No money has changed hands here.”