pick her up. Said you’d be here for the car. And the car’s behind you.”
I’m thinkin’ about an excuse, thinkin’ about turnin’ back, thinkin’ about clockin’ Alice and grabbin’ Angel before I waste any more fuckin’ time. Then she speaks again, soft, low, and serious.
“Look, Luc. I been around. I know bikers – and I know what some women can do to them. I’ve done it myself. You can bullshit me all you want, but I know that girl inside is pulling at some part of you. The part that is buried somewhere under the training, the violence, the business, the bad-ass biker stuff. Just don’t bullshit yourself about it.”
“I ain’t here for a fuckin’ therapy session.”
“No. You’re here for the girl. Randy will be too. Soon.”
We look at each other for a moment. I don’t know what the bitch wants from me. Does she want me to say it? Does she want me to stop?
“I’m not going to hand over Butch’s property, Luc,” she says, and a hundred violent options run through my mind. “But if you were to just barge in here and take her… Well, it’s not like I can stop you, is it?”
She winks, and then the smile grows on her face again.
She steps and aside, and I run in. I check the rooms, even though I know where Butch probably kept her. I get to the basement door, unlatch it, and take the steps. She’s layin’ on the couch, asleep. The TV is on, showing some news reports. Fuck knows what the bitch thought when she saw her face on the missing persons reports. Seeing her again, beat to shit and fuckin’ lucky to be alive, hits me like a gut punch. I’m fuckin’ shakin’ again. Anger and bitterness mixin’ inside of me like the mother of all cocktails.
I shake myself out of it – no fuckin’ time to start thinkin’ – and pick the bitch up in my arms. It’s the second time I’ve done that in the past hour, and it still feels weird not to be fightin’, not to be aggressive, to be fuckin’ gentle.
I get up the steps as fast as possible. Alice is in the kitchen, mixing something to drink. She nods at me as I’m nearly at the door.
“You better take the car,” she says. “Keys are in it.”
Before I turn back towards the door I say, “Thanks.”
She says something as I step outside. It sounds like: “Don’t be afraid of change, Luc.” But I ain’t exactly got the fuckin’ time to sit and let her play shrink with my head, so I get my ass to the car, lay Angel in the back seat, check the street for Randy, and gun the motor off the property. The hell away from this shit.
I’m doin’ somethin’ like a hundred on the freeway when it hits me. What the fuck have I been doing for the past couple of weeks? I’ve turned on my brothers, on the fuckin’ club that saved my life. I’ve thrown away a reputation I built up over years as the best trainer this side of the border, and I’ve fucked up a business deal that could have taken the club into a fuckin’ whole new level of money and power.
And for what? For two fuckin’ bitches. For two fuckin’ animals that aren’t even good enough to be fucked and used by the Cartel.
I think about all the soft shit I’ve been doing. Playin’ fuckin’ happy family with Angel in a motel like a fuckin’ homo. Treatin’ her more like she’s my old lady than a piece of fuckin’ property to be sold. Lettin’ Lilith play me for a fuckin’ fool. Using her ass to control me, instead of the other way round. Talkin’ with her about her feelings like we were having a fuckin’ pajama party.
Just thinkin’ about it makes me fuckin’ disgusted with myself. The fuck was wrong with me?
I coulda trained Angel. Sure I only had a fuckin’ week, but if I had my shit together I could have done it. I was spun out ‘cause of Lilith. It all fuckin’ started with her. Her crazy fuckin’ voodoo shit that she had goin’ over me. I wish I could turn the fuckin’ clock back. Back to the desert, back to where it all began. If I’d have
I’m thinkin’ about an excuse, thinkin’ about turnin’ back, thinkin’ about clockin’ Alice and grabbin’ Angel before I waste any more fuckin’ time. Then she speaks again, soft, low, and serious.
“Look, Luc. I been around. I know bikers – and I know what some women can do to them. I’ve done it myself. You can bullshit me all you want, but I know that girl inside is pulling at some part of you. The part that is buried somewhere under the training, the violence, the business, the bad-ass biker stuff. Just don’t bullshit yourself about it.”
“I ain’t here for a fuckin’ therapy session.”
“No. You’re here for the girl. Randy will be too. Soon.”
We look at each other for a moment. I don’t know what the bitch wants from me. Does she want me to say it? Does she want me to stop?
“I’m not going to hand over Butch’s property, Luc,” she says, and a hundred violent options run through my mind. “But if you were to just barge in here and take her… Well, it’s not like I can stop you, is it?”
She winks, and then the smile grows on her face again.
She steps and aside, and I run in. I check the rooms, even though I know where Butch probably kept her. I get to the basement door, unlatch it, and take the steps. She’s layin’ on the couch, asleep. The TV is on, showing some news reports. Fuck knows what the bitch thought when she saw her face on the missing persons reports. Seeing her again, beat to shit and fuckin’ lucky to be alive, hits me like a gut punch. I’m fuckin’ shakin’ again. Anger and bitterness mixin’ inside of me like the mother of all cocktails.
I shake myself out of it – no fuckin’ time to start thinkin’ – and pick the bitch up in my arms. It’s the second time I’ve done that in the past hour, and it still feels weird not to be fightin’, not to be aggressive, to be fuckin’ gentle.
I get up the steps as fast as possible. Alice is in the kitchen, mixing something to drink. She nods at me as I’m nearly at the door.
“You better take the car,” she says. “Keys are in it.”
Before I turn back towards the door I say, “Thanks.”
She says something as I step outside. It sounds like: “Don’t be afraid of change, Luc.” But I ain’t exactly got the fuckin’ time to sit and let her play shrink with my head, so I get my ass to the car, lay Angel in the back seat, check the street for Randy, and gun the motor off the property. The hell away from this shit.
I’m doin’ somethin’ like a hundred on the freeway when it hits me. What the fuck have I been doing for the past couple of weeks? I’ve turned on my brothers, on the fuckin’ club that saved my life. I’ve thrown away a reputation I built up over years as the best trainer this side of the border, and I’ve fucked up a business deal that could have taken the club into a fuckin’ whole new level of money and power.
And for what? For two fuckin’ bitches. For two fuckin’ animals that aren’t even good enough to be fucked and used by the Cartel.
I think about all the soft shit I’ve been doing. Playin’ fuckin’ happy family with Angel in a motel like a fuckin’ homo. Treatin’ her more like she’s my old lady than a piece of fuckin’ property to be sold. Lettin’ Lilith play me for a fuckin’ fool. Using her ass to control me, instead of the other way round. Talkin’ with her about her feelings like we were having a fuckin’ pajama party.
Just thinkin’ about it makes me fuckin’ disgusted with myself. The fuck was wrong with me?
I coulda trained Angel. Sure I only had a fuckin’ week, but if I had my shit together I could have done it. I was spun out ‘cause of Lilith. It all fuckin’ started with her. Her crazy fuckin’ voodoo shit that she had goin’ over me. I wish I could turn the fuckin’ clock back. Back to the desert, back to where it all began. If I’d have
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