Why the Fuck Not?
Pax and I eat greasy burgers at a dive on the west side of Little Memphis. Across the street, Paro and a ginger fuck sporting dreadlocks sit a few tables away from two prostitutes. The pimp frequently throws ice cubes at his girls. Of all the flesh traders in town, Paro’s the least intimidating. This includes the seventeen year old girl pimp who’d easily kick his ass.
“If he’s not the guy, what then?” Pax asks, poking at his soggy fries.
“Oh, I very much doubt he’s the guy. If he was, do you think he’d be goofing around like that when he knows the club wants payback? Paro knows the guy though. The tricky shit will be getting him to talk before he dies of shock from all the beatings he’ll take. The kid is all drama and little brain power.”
“If we go after him or the tattoo face that just got out of the joint, we’ll likely walk into a trap. Maybe that’s why he’s goofing around. Get us to put down our guards, so they can set up their ambush.”
I glance at Paro then focus on my brother. “We need to give them a distraction. Make them think we nailed someone else for Tiny’s killing. Who can we fuck up?”
Pax pushes away his half eaten food. “What about that kiddie pervert that moved back into town a few months ago? He deals meth and I heard Tiny made threats against him. If we kill him, it’ll be no loss to society. It’ll give us a distraction and make Paro’s master think the heat is off him.”
“And people call you stupid.”
“What people?” Pax growls.
“I don’t know. Everyone, I guess. It’s pretty common for people to call you an idiot.”
Pax glares at me. “You better be messing with me.”
I grin. “Only partly.”
Rolling his eyes, Pax is restless. I know he wants to get something else to eat. We toss our half eaten meals and head to the parking lot where the Harleys wait. I know we’re being watched. The west side of Little Memphis can never be really controlled, only managed. Big Dick does his best, but a healthy Trigger made it easier to scare the shit out of the troublemakers.
Back on the east side, Pax and I enjoy decent burgers and fries at the Devil in Disguise. I check my phone and wonder about Shay. Sensing where my head is, Pax grunts.
“I don’t get it. You’re like a schoolgirl in love. Why her, man?”
“Why the fuck not?” I snap. “Why can’t I have a little bit of fucking fun?”
“Does she know it’s only fun?”
“She’s twenty and only moved here a few weeks ago. Yet everyone acts like us spending a little time together means it’s a love match.”
“I guess.”
“It pisses me off,” I mutter. “I live this life and do my job. Maybe I don’t survive until the next week or next month or whatever. I do my shit though and I don’t fucking complain. When I try to have a little fun with a beautiful girl though, it’s the crime of the damn century.”
“It’s not like you can get serious.”
Studying Pax, I think about how our entire lives revolved around expecting nothing. We sure as hell never ended up disappointed that way.
“So you and I never get anything real. We’re stuck fucking Maggie or another club fan girl. Except I want Shay. Considering I might be dead tomorrow, why shouldn’t I get what I want? Of all people, you really shouldn’t give me shit for wanting something nice.”
Pax eats half of his burger without acknowledging me. I ignore him too. We’re the first line of defense against a threat to the club. If we die, will anyone really cry for us?
No, the club will protect itself and the families. No one will really fucking care about us though. Deep inside, I know we never let them care. Pax and I refuse to rely on anyone else. We’re in the club, yet always feel on the outside.
Pax rubs his eyes then taps on the table to get my attention. “I’ve never seen you take a chick into your life like you have with Shay. I figured you were making a mistake by thinking you can have shit we ain’t gonna have. You’re right though. No reason to withhold from yourself.”
I frown at Pax squirting ketchup onto his plate. He looks up at me and shrugs.
“Thing about Shay is she ain’t that bad either. I mean, if I hadn’t thought she was fucking up your life, I might think she was cool. Low drama and she doesn’t freak when I give her shit. She isn’t a chattering bitch either. She chills. I also like how she gives me shit, but not all crazy like, you know?”
“It killed you to say something nice, didn’t it?”
“Yeah, a little part of me died right then. She’s cool though. I don’t have a problem with her, but the idea of you getting wound up on a girl then losing out on her or something. I just had a bad feeling about how things were going. Not her fault. Or yours.”