Page 61 of Biker's Property
By the time we get back to the bike, I’m done with the chocolate milk and Ryder, to my dismay, has already polished off two energy drinks. Has he ever had one of these before?
“Helmet,” he grunts, handing me the helmet before I can get the words out. “We have enough gas to get to the Nevada border. Let’s just get out of here.”
“Did you finish that third drink?”
“Nope,” he says. “But I will.”
Ryder isabout to be so high on caffeine that I almost wish I’d kept him on the liquor. He cracks open the third energy drink and my worry surges. This man…
Chapter Twenty-Seven
SCRAP
The Shaw Family Meeting
Southpaw: SOS
Bear: In K.C.
There’s only one reason for a Shaw to be in Kansas City. We all have various shades of the problem. Southpaw might be the best one out of all of us since he quit gambling. My brother, the leader of the Rebel Barbarians rarely has a reason to put out an S.O.S.
But I’m suddenly alert. My brother has me stationed at Oske’s trailer watching the most demented shit go down. I almost miss Oske’s voice calling me “Owie-Owie” when she was begging me for weed money. Owen doesnotneed a nickname. I have a club nickname, which she was more than welcome to use.
Bear’s confession that he’s in Kansas City pretty much confirms he’ll be useless and I’ll end up doing whatever bullshit our brother wants from me.
Scrap: Degenerate.
Southpaw: Meeting. Sending Location.
He sends a set of coordinates.
Bear: What is your thing with the Indians?
Southpaw: I’ll explain. 7 p.m. tomorrow.
I wishI could say I had something better to do than this meeting, but I don’t. Since Ruger discovered Darlene’s infidelity, my main job for the club has been watching him to make sure he doesn’t beat on her too hard. I don’t know how the fuck Southpaw expects me to stop a man from laying hands on his property.
Watching Ruger is easy compared to riding all over the country hunting shit down, running guns or carrying out break-ins. I smoke some weed – courtesy of Oske – and try to drown out the sounds of Darlene screaming. Don’t expect me to get all riled up for a cheating whore. Not my type.
Any woman who cheats on me would be six feet under.
I would useany excuse I could to get away from Ruger. The meeting isn’t far away, but again — any excuse. I leave my spot on the chair in the living room, ignoring the fact that I reek of sweat and weed. As I get closer to the door, I hear him beating up on Darlene again.
“HOW MANY TIMES DID YOU LET HIM FUCK YOUR ASS!” he yells. If I was still sitting down, I would have heard that one from the chair. They keep going like that far longer than any sane person ought to be having that argument.
My phone vibrates with some good news. Finally. I won my $3 bet on that ostrich race. Not much — just $250, but I cash out immediately so I can pay Oske back for that weed I smoked. I’m shocked she hasn’t found her way back here yet to bitch about how we don’t give her any money or treat her with respect.
I knock on the door to Darlene’s prison. The smell of piss and shit comes out from under the door once I get within three feet of it. Ruger ought to clean up after her, but he’s been a real sicko since he got a hold of her. I don’t know how he can stand it in there.
“I’m busy,” Ruger says. I hear his boots stomping in an impatient rhythm.
“Stay busy,” I shout back to the other side of the door. “Southpaw called me out. I’ll be gone a couple nights.”
“NO!” Darlene shrieks.
“Quiet, you dumb bitch,” Ruger snarls. I hear his flat palm connect with her cheek and she yells again. She’s pregnant — making this sort of activity goddamn dangerous… but Ruger hasn’t been in his right mind since his mom went to prison. Doc was the only person who could control him. I won’t be the one who tries.
“I’m heading out,” I tell him. “Don’t do anything stupid.”