The following day I was woken up by Anthony’s foot kicking my ass out of bed. Literally, the bastard pulled the sheets off me and nudged my bare ass with his sneaker hard enough that I rolled completely off the bed. I could kill the fucker for interrupting what was a very gratifying dream. Well, it was just about to get to the gratifying part before I found myself on the floor peering up at Anthony. I opened my mouth to ask him what the fuck his problem was but instead I was told that I had ten minutes to shower and dress because we were going to the shooting range.
I suppose it could be worse, right? I mean I’ve heard people bitch about training for their new job sitting around pushing papers and stuffing envelopes. I get to drink, play with guns, and walk around with a permanent set of blue balls. I had it made.
The drive to the shooting range was the usual torture I had already come to expect when one was trapped in a confined space with Anthony. It was full of silence and the occasional grunt. My friend was an ogre. Unfortunately, for me the quiet only forced me to think of Nikki. She consumed my thoughts most of the time. I guess it could be deemed a good thing, allowing me to escape the reality that my mother was gone or that I felt as if I was starring in a bad reality show… America’s Next Gangster.
I went to bed night after night thinking about Nikki even dreamed of her while I slept and when I awoke each and every morning she was the first thing on my mind. I was infatuated with her. I wanted her fuck I wanted her as much as I wanted air. However, I knew even if it was possible, even if I had her just for one night it would never be enough. She’d have my balls in a vice claiming me as her own even if she didn’t intend to. But that could never happen. I could never have her. Not even for one night.
We drove down a dirt road, the kind you see in the movies. You know when they whack a guy and dispose of the body deep in the wooded area where the authorities can’t find it? Yeah, we were taking that road. My palms were sweating as we proceeded down the road that seemed to never end until it finally brought us to what appeared to be a warehouse. There were very few cars parked diagonally in front of the building, but there were over a dozen motorcycles.
Anthony parked the truck at the far end of the lot so when we walked towards the entrance of the shooting range I was able to assess the motorcycles noticing that they were all beautiful pieces of machinery. I paused in front of one of the motorcycles checking out the chrome detail but was quickly interrupted by a smack upside my head from Anthony.
“Keep it moving Mike they’re waiting for us.” He said.
I think I whimpered as I tried to imagine who was waiting for us. He pushed open the doors and I followed him into the shooting range. I’m not sure what I expected a shooting range to be like. I don’t think I gave it much thought, but I wasn’t expecting the twenty or so bikers glaring at me as the welcoming committee that’s for sure. All eyes were on me sizing me up with their grim expressions. These men made Victor and his goons look like choirboys.
One of the bikers stood up walking around the front counter to stand in front of me his cold gaze washed over me. I tried not to gawk at him, but fuck, he was a scary looking motherfucker with his tattered jeans, and his leather cut. His arms were covered with tattoos that trailed up to his neck and he wore a bandana tied around his baldhead. My gaze drifted down to his leather vest again noticing the patch on one side that read President.
“This guy here is Vic’s fresh meat?” Scary bald biker president asked Anthony.
“Yeah, this is Michael Valente.” Anthony said as he shook the man’s hand. The president’s hand released Anthony’s mid shake as he turned his attention back towards me.
“This is Val’s son? Get the fuck out of here.” His eyes looked back to Anthony who nodded.
“I guess you knew my father.” I said.
He spit out the toothpick he had been chewing on onto the floor. I held my stance as the fucking thing landed next to my shoe.
“Yeah, I knew your old man.” His face softened if that was possible and a slight trace of a grin worked its way across the grim line of his mouth. “He was a fucking legend.” He cocked his head to the side taking a step closer to me, his eyes zeroed in on me. “You got the chops he had?”