Starting Over (22 page)

you stop her, and where the fuck did that softail come from? She’s too little to be riding

a bike like that.”

Mambo grinned and shook his head as the men got in the vehicle. “Not my woman,

and not my business. She stopped by the bar an hour and a half ago and was

conspiring with Maisey while I was changing the kegs. Next thing I know, they’re out

front and Maisey is oooing and ahhing over that yellow bike, and squealing because

River gave her an old sporty. Said it was hers, but now she had her birthday gift from

her brother, so she didn’t need it.”

Race looked at him in disbelief, “I thought the brother was dead, and when did she

start riding anyway. She took that turn off out of here like she’s been riding for years,

not a few months.”

Mambo shrugged his shoulders and checked the mirrors before answering. “He is

dead, from what Maisey says, River has secrets, and plans to stick around, so she’ll

turn up eventually. It took four minutes for Maisey to start in on me to teach her to ride

her scoot. Her feet even touch the ground. By the way, you should know that I’m not

real happy with your woman myself right now, my ol’ lady is pregnant, and she ain’t

learning to do shit until my kid is born.”

War smacked him on the shoulder, “That’s great, man, congrats on the kid. You’ll

make a damn good father, and we can help if you need it. I can’t remember the last

time we had a new generation born into the group.”

Mambo grinned and laughed, “Yeah, I ‘bout shit my pants when she started puking

every morning. Coffee makes her blow chunks, and she can’t work the kitchen at the

bar anymore because the smell of frying grease sends her to the bathroom or out the

backdoor. Maisey offered River a job, but she turned it down. She said that she had

plans, so that’s al I know about the woman. I’ve got shit to do, I don’t have time to sit in

on their jabbering.”

Mambo dropped them at the winery and left. The first thing they saw was Bam

swil ing a beer and Kink wasn’t looking too happy, mainly because Bam had his hand

around his throat and kept him pinned to the tabletop. Elton and Joey were standing

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Starting Over by Ryder Dane

close to the table, but neither man bothered to look up when the door shut behind Race

and War.

Goody watched the two men walk in and waved, but her attention was back on the

drama unfolding in the room within seconds of acknowledging their presence.

Race had to strain to hear what Bam was saying to his victim.

“You wanna beat on someone motherfucker, I’m here, you can’t fucking pick a fight

with a man, but you damn sure like using your fists on a woman, so since my fists didn’t

make you understand the last time to keep your fuckin’ hands to yourself, I’m gonna cut

the fuckers off and see how you like that.” The beer bottle in his hand smashed onto

the table and the top half remained in Bam’s fist. He grinned and slammed the jagged

glass down into the palm of Kink’s hand, causing the man to scream.

“I warned you, cocksucker, you should’ve listened.” Bam twisted the glass in his fist

that was stil embedded in Kink’s right hand. “You like pain, don’tcha’, fucking coward.

Too fuckin’ bad you like to give it, ‘cause by the time I’m finished, you’ll be feeling it. I’d

kil you, but that’s up to the club, if they can find some use for you fine, make damn sure

you don’t come into my line of sight again or you die. Do you understand me you crazy

fuck?”

The screams stopped, but Kink was losing blood and he was staring at death in

Bam’s eyes. He knew his days were numbered, but the urge to watch the whore beg

for her life had been too much to resist. Better to get it done and over with. “Fuck you,

she begged for it, crawled on her knees and begged me to hit her, she loved it. She

wore that short skirt to fuckin’ tease me into it, and she fuckin’ begged me.” His grin

was what did it, he saw Bam’s eyes change from anger to intent, and he laughed even

through the bloody swol en lips from Bam’s fists earlier. “You pussy, she begged for it.”

Bam raised the bottleneck, brought it down to drop it on the floor, and fisted his

hand before he began punching Kink’s face. His fist kept hitting the man’s nose and

between his eyes, and his other hand was squeezing his windpipe to stop him from

breathing.

Race didn’t interfere. If he’d been in Bam’s position, he’d have done the same

thing. Once he was sure the brother had accomplished his goal of putting the world out

of the misery of Kink being in it, he stepped up next to the furious man.

“Hey, brother, glad to see you saw to things while I was gone. We should have

dealt with this piece of trash a long time ago.” He slapped Bam on the shoulder and

debated whether to tell him that Kink was done. “You ready to fil me in on the past two

weeks? War was stinking so bad that I thought I’d have to hose his big ass off out in

the yard when we got back, so he’s heading to the shower. You’ve got time to finish

your business and get something on your knuckles before he gets back. If you come

lookin’ for me, I’ll be over at that table with a cold one waiting.” He nodded in the

direction of the corner table and walked away.

His distraction must have brought Bam back to his senses, because he stopped

hitting his victim and wiped his knuckles on the bloody t-shirt that declared the wearer to

be “Ridin’ Free.” He shook his head and breathed deeply, then turned toward the bar.

Elton and Joey stepped up and carried Kink’s carcass out of the room while Goody

was busy with wrapping Bam’s hand in an antiseptic soaked towel.

Flats sat beside Race and they made small talk until Flats told him about the

strange shit happening around the club.

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Starting Over by Ryder Dane

“First you should know the bikes are safely tucked inside the warehouse, and Bam

and me are the ones that rode them back home the night the cops started that shit with

you. We came back later and got our scoots.”

Race thanked him, “Cool, brother, I’d hate to have to take a new paintjob out on

some tow truck driver, but I would’ve done it.” He knew that Flats wasn’t finished

because of the way he kept playing with his fingers and tapping them on the table.

“Okay, let’s have it, I was gone almost two weeks, so I’m sure shit went on here.”

Flats grimaced and nodded. “Yeah, shit went on, surprised that Bam didn’t kil the

fucker before now. You know how the women go around and change the towels and

clean the bathrooms and shit?” Race frowned and nodded, so Flats continued.

“Wel Yo Yo caught one of the Prospects trying to get into your room, and she damn

near killed the dumb fucker pushing him down the stairs. Bam can tell you about that, I

don’t know enough to speak about it.

“There’s been more deliveries from River in the past week, and since her name was

on the boxes, we put them in the house out back, but the tool boxes we put in the

warehouse on the end that doesn’t have a leak in the roof. There’s some expensive

equipment out there and we didn’t want it to get ruined.”

Race knew the men would value such things and he appreciated they took the

trouble to keep them dry. Flats was still holding out, so he said to the older man, “Just

come out with what you want to say, I need some sleep and I know I’m not gonna get

any for a while, so spill, man, don’t give me the hem hawing shit.”

Flats tightened his lips, and then opened them enough to start talking. “I took the

skin flicks back to the video store and met Georgia. She’s a good looking woman, and

I’ve been seeing her for the past week now. I want to bring her here, but I thought I’d

ask before waltzing her in the club, you know what I mean?”

Race was expecting more bad news, so he was relieved when Flats finally came

out with his problem. He wasn’t asking to bring the woman in for the weekend, he was

wanting to bring her in as his woman. “We need a policy about citizens, but for now,

bring her in on the weekend, let the club get to know her before we start thinking access

permission. She’s a good sort, so give her a chance to make an impression.”

Flats nodded and looked relieved. Race had to sympathize with the brother, after

all, women were the devil to deal with and drove many a good man to drink and do shit

like getting locked down with her pussy being the only one a man was allowed to have

as long as they were together. Thinking about how Shorty had put a lock on his dick

already just depressed him.

War came down the stairs and Flats excused himself to send Goody over with

drinks. He was anxious to call Georgia and invite her to the club this weekend.

War sat down and kicked his feet up on the table. Bam finally walked over and sat

down, knocking War’s booted feet from the tabletop.

“I get enough crap from these fuckers, I don’t want your shit kickers in my face while

I relax.” He took one of the longnecks from Goody’s hand as she walked up to deposit

her tray of drinks in front of the men. “Thanks.”

War asked what had been happening lately. “I’ve been locked up in a fucking cage

for days without seeing sunshine and I’m edgy, so tel me something good to take my

mind off the place.”

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Bam decided to lay it out. “You want the ful story, here it is. Your woman dropped

a bag full of cash off at the gate, and told the Prospect not to steal any of it, she knew

how much was there, she saw me, told him to avoid temptation and just give it to me.”

He shook his head and looked at the two men in front of him. “There’s a hundred large

in that fuckin’ bag, I put it in your closet. The boy decided that he might like to lift a few

bucks, even though he didn’t know how much was in the bag. Long story short, Yo Yo

found him hiding in your bathroom, and she kicked his ass down the stairs and told me

what he’d been doing. Nobody knows about the cash but him and me, and he’s not

doing a lot of talking right now.” He grinned, “I gave him to Queenie to play with, and

the last I knew, he was hanging in the shed where she likes to play.”

War laughed and clapped his hands, “Now that’s a well deserved punishment for

trying to steal from a brother if I ever heard of one. Fuck me but she’s an evil bitch

when she gets in the mood. Did you see what she did to that little wannabe that kept

coming around trying to play the biker? He was a whipped puppy that she pulled

around on a leash until the bitch got tired of him and swatted his ass at the gate to make

him leave.”

Race wondered aloud, “Were in the hel did Shorty get that kind of scratch?”

Bam shrugged. “Hell, man, I got no idea about that. The boxes of shit that keep

showing up at the gate are a pain in the ass. Some days there’s one, two days later

three show up. I just decided to shove ‘em in the house and let you al sort it out.” He

thought about that day’s delivery, and got up to walk over to the bar and pulled a large

manila envelope from the shelf before bringing it back and handing it to Race.

“That came today.” He sat back and took a long pul on his beer while Race

frowned at the thing in his hand. “It ain’t gonna bite you, I carried it from the front gate

into the building this morning.”

War reached over and took the thick envelope from Race’s hand and ripped open

the seal. He looked at the contents, and shook his head, before reaching inside and

pulling a plastic bound booklet out and tossing it toward Race. “There you go, no

anthrax or powdery shit, you can rest easy.”

The booklet read like a who’s who of people that had taken payoffs from Wolfman,

and the Breed over the past decade. The totals were staggering, and until he saw the

prosecutor’s name and that of his predecessor, Race hadn’t ful y comprehended what

River had done to get them released from jail.

He shoved the thing back toward War and considered what he’d read. The Breed

had paid thousands to keep the authorities off their backs for years. Now they needed

to decide what to do with the information. This was going to take some time and

thought before they took any kind of action.

Bam was next to read the booklet and he tossed it back to Race. “I wondered how

she got you out of there, what’s the bet that she leaned on Bernie, the pompous

asshole, to spring you?”

They knew he was referring to Bernard Landers, also known and Attorney Landers

the Prosecutor for the county. According to the bank statements they’d just read, good

old Bernie had received well over ten grand a year from Wolfman until his death.

“No bet, our girl has been a busy bee, and I plan to clip her wings. She shows up

again, I don’t care where, I want to know about it.”

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It had taken her another week to square away Tuck’s secret life, and it stil surprised

her to see the portfolio that her brother had invested his money wisely. She was now a

very wealthy woman, in fact she owned every house or held the note on every house on

the road where she’d found the answers that she came looking for. Not to mention