“Fuck off, Bobby, it’s nothing!” I bark, his persistence is really starting to piss me the fuck off.
“You get in a pissing match with me for dancing with that bitch last night; then you disappear into her room for the night... just looking at her... I’m pretty sure that is exactly what I think it is,” he says, gesturing toward my hands again.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Pushed to my limit, I shove Bobby and get in his face. Him questioning me has hit its toll.
Not one to back down, Bobby gets right back in my face. “I think you're the one with a death wish, brother. What the fuck were you thinking?” He pushes me in the shoulders, his voice snapping and authoritative. He's right, though; what the fuck was I thinking? I knew better than to fuck with Dani.
I back off and throw my hands in my hair, unsettled by my own actions. “I wasn’t thinking. The bitch had me twisted, acting like she didn’t want me. I just...” I pause trying to figure out what the fuck I was thinking last night. “I wasn’t fucking thinking,” I whisper.
“This can’t be good, brother. You know this shit won’t go down well,” Bobby whispers back and walks out of the kitchen.
He is right. I feel different around Dani, I know that. But I also know she would be better off without a piece of shit like me. I’m fucked up in the head; not right. If Bull didn’t kill me first, my way of living would devour Dani, thus causing Bull to kill me. The way I see it, Dani's a loaded gun either way.
Sitting at the table waiting for the other brothers to show, Bobby eyes me from across the wooden top. He grabs a piece of paper from the center and starts drawing on it; snickering as he scribbles. What the hell is he doing? He slides the piece of paper across the table at me, and looks over his shoulder as if he’s in middle school passing a note.
What. The. Fuck? It has a stick figure with a disproportionate cock fucking another stick figure with big boobs and a gun to the male figure's head. I crumple the paper in my hand as he laughs; pleased with himself.
“First order of business,” Bull says as he lowers himself slowly into his chair. He looks like shit. I’m sure he partied hard last night. Bull is always one for lots of bitches and booze and he is paying for it this morning. “Bobby what do ya have to report, son?”
Bobby was sent on a run to Nevada to investigate a deal the El Locos, another motorcycle club, want us in on. They want us to run guns with them and buy their stock weapons. Not knowing much about them, Bull sent Bobby to check out their credibility and their stock and report back to us for a vote.
“Eh, they seem sketchy, a fly-by-night operation, if you ask me, Prez. “ Bobby leans back in his chair, his childish behavior vanished. “The containers they have the guns in were beat to hell, and the AK-47s have seen better days. I didn’t even want to test 'em out, they were that banged up; seems like they went through hell. Their club seems too eager to sell them, too.”
“Think they're hot?” Bull asks, wondering if the other club stole them from the competition. If they were, buying them would mean more trouble for us, something we don’t need right now. Our club has been attracting heat since a rogue prospect shot a cop a while back. Now the competition and the cops were dying to get a shot at us. Needless to say, that prospect will never be found, I took care of it personally. I knew that fucker was worthless when I first met him.
“The shape those guns were in, possibly a robbery gone wrong,” Bobby says, scratching his chest.
Bull rubs the stubble on his cheeks as he processes what Bobby is saying. “Alright, I don’t think this is something we want to get involved in, who agrees?” Bull asks. Ayes are spoken around the table in agreement; we don’t need to make waves.
“Tie up that loose end, Bobby,” Bull says, pointing at him. ”Next order of business. Locks, any word about the girls and this Stevin fellow?” Bull lights a cigarette.
“Not a damn thing, Prez. I called out to the Ghost’s in New York and asked them to find the fucker and follow him; see what his next move was. Nobody in the area has seen him or heard from him. Fucker is MIA.” Locks replies, lighting a cigarette as well.
“Shit, not sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” Bull says.
“Yeah, he could have gotten spooked and split town, is lying low, or he is out looking for the girls,” Locks chimes in.
“Don’t make sense to me,” I think loudly, not realizing I said the words.
“How so?” Bull asks, taking a drag from his cigarette. His eyes narrow and I'm not sure it's just the smoke.
“I just don’t get how a powerful man like Stevin isn’t heard of around there,“ I justify.
Bull nods his head in agreement.
“Considering how sloppy he was in killing those pigs in his office, I’m shocked to find out he hasn’t left a trail, either,” I admit.