Justice: Night Horses MC (4 page)

ALLIE

“No shit?” she said, almost dropping her pencil in excitement.

“Yeah!” Jesse said.

He’d scared her to death, knocking on her door in the twilight. She’d forgotten that he checked her into the hotel, obviously he knew which room she was in. She’d thought that no one knew. She’d thought, for one heart-stopping moment, that Daniel had found her.

Then her common sense asserted itself.

Daniel wouldn’t have knocked.

She’d heard about him from Jesse and her mother, and was confident that if Daniel wanted to take her, he’d find her in an alley, or follow her somewhere - he wouldn’t just knock on her door as bold as anything.

Her neighbor pounded on the wall in irritation when Jesse had yelled “Come on, open up, lemme in!”

She didn’t think he’d be offering her a job.

“You’ll get your own spot in the place, one just opened up. They said that if they buy your supplies, they split sixty-forty their favor, if you buy your own stuff they split sixty-forty your favor,” he said.

“Slow down,” she said, laughing.

She patted the bed next to her.

“I didn’t say I wanted the job,” she pointed out.

“Oh, come on, you’ve gotta want the job, you’re so good,” he said.

Allie laughed as she relented. She thought about the rainy days there had been lately, the times she’d needed to dig into her stash.

“I’d fucking love it,” she said. “If they’ll take me.”

“Come on,” he said, standing up. Allie grinned at how much he reminded her of a jack-in-the-box.

“Where are we going?” she asked as he took her hand and pulled her to her feet.

“To interview, obviously,” he said. “Marcos is waiting, I told him you’d want the job. Bring your sketchbook.”

She rolled her eyes and grabbed two different sketchbooks - the new one she’d bought with her caricature money and the very oldest, the one she’d kept deep under her mattress and filled every inch of.

With her wallet and her shoes, that was all she needed.

----------------------------------------------------------

Marcos was a slim Hispanic guy in his early thirties, his cinnamon skin covered in intricate tattoos that he’d proudly told Allie he designed himself.

He’d told Allie flat-out that he was only interviewing her because Merle and Jesse wanted him to.

She’d said nothing, only passed him her sketchbooks.

He treated them carefully, turning them by the very edges of the page so he didn’t smear any of the work that had been done in pencil.

Three times, Jesse had tried to say something, tried to ask what he’d thought, and three times, Allie had stepped on her friend’s foot.

Finally, Marcos spoke up.

“Damn,” the man said, his voice tinged with approval. “Okay, you’ve got the art, but not everyone who can draw can ink.”

Allie was ready for that, and lifted her shirt and inch and pulled her jeans down with her thumb in the waistband.

“I did that on myself two years ago,” she said.

“Not old enough for a legal tat?” he asked her with a grin.

“Yep,” she said.

He leaned close enough that she could feel his breath on her skin for a moment.

“Damn fine line work, especially for a kid. Got any better since then?” he asked.

She nodded.

“Haven’t done much more on myself, though,” she said. “Didn’t wanna use up all the good spots before I hit twenty.”

Marcos bobbed his head in a cheerful nod.

“Cool, cool. Okay, those assholes aren’t as crazy as I thought. There’s a chair open and it’s all yours if you want it. I pay cash, and if anyone asks, you’re doing an unpaid apprenticeship.”

She grinned at him.

“Suits me fine,” she said. “Jesse said that you take sixty percent if you buy the shit I need?”

“Yeah, but if you ever wanna start buying your own shit, fine by me. Less hassle. You wanna start with house tools?”

“Sure thing,” she said.

“Good,” Jesse said. Apparently that was as long as he could shut up for. “Good, this is really good. You’re in the shop now and you’ll be safe from assholes and tourists, and you’ll make more money, and you can get a real apartment. Maybe in a better part of town. I have a spare bedroom you could stay in, but I guess you probably wanna be by yourself - “

“Jesse.” Marcos said. “Shut the fuck up.”

----------------------------------------------------------

DANIEL

The blond man struck the wall with his fist and growled in pain and fury.

Those cuntrags took my girl. I’ll have them fucking killed. I’ll have their mothers raped.

He’d finally found the girl, found her name - Allie, so pretty - but she had been stolen away from him. She took up with Black’s Raiders and thought she was out of his reach. Thought she was too good for him.

He ground his teeth as he thought about when he’d seen her again, smiled at her, and she’d glared, and turned away.

Turned away. From him.

No one fucking turned away from Daniel.

He needed the girl, needed the fresh blood to help his business. He was pulling in okay money from his street girls, but he needed a house girl, someone pretty enough that men would come in and line up to fuck her.

Someone worth filming, someone who could help him break into the real money.

She would be goddamn perfect, and he needed her.

All he needed was a plan.

----------------------------------------------------------

ALLIE

It took Allie almost no time at all to get a following.

She had every quality a good tattoo artist needed - she was friendly, she was patient, and she was an amazing goddamn artist.

She was surprised to find that, even though it was the sort of place where she was paid in cold, hard cash, and she knew the biker gang had something to do with it, she was mostly inking… soccer moms.

Okay, not only soccer moms, but there were a
lot
of women in minivans.

“Hey, you ready to close up?” Marcos asked.

“Yeah,” Allie said. “I don’t think we’ll get anybody else walking in tonight, not with that rain.”

“I want a beer, and a joint, and to get the fuck out of here,” Marcos said, stretching the kinks out of his back and getting off his tall stool. “You got any appointments tomorrow, chica?”

“Two, one wants some flashed gussied up, that’s in the morning, and China is coming in for a custom leg piece at two, dunno how long that will take.”

“Make sure she pays in advance,” Marcos advised. “Don’t waste your time or my ink.”

Allie nodded.

“Speaking of your ink,” she asked, casually. “How much do I need to pay you if I tattoo someone for free? For your supplies?”

He eyed her.

“If it’s Jesse, or anyone else in the gang, don’t worry about it. You wanna waste your time doing free work, I’m not gonna stop you. Anyone else? Talk to me and we’ll figure it out.”

She nodded.

“Text him to pick you up, it’s pissing down out there,” he said.

“No phone,” Allie reminded him.

“Shit, girl, a phone is like ten fucking dollars. Just buy a goddamn cell phone like a normal person.”

“I guess,” she said. “Never had one before, you know?”

“Never, ever? A modern teenager without a cell phone? Perish the thought,” Marcos said.

“Well, I had one, once. For, like, three hours. My father broke it. Why waste the money getting him more shit to break?”

“Asshole,” Marcos said. “Come on, chica, I’ll give you a ride out to the bar if you wanna find Jesse.”

“That would be great, thanks,” Allie said, hopping off her own chair and quickly throwing her stuff together.

As he drove her to the biker bar in his old station wagon - “What? It holds all my shit.” - Marcos told her about everything they passed by. Every road seemed to lead somewhere he dicked around in high school, every house seemed to have, at one time, held someone he knew.

It was a pleasant ride, and she relaxed in the seat.

This was good.

This was so unlike her home in every way. Maybe… maybe this could be her home.

That thought warmed her all the way to the bar, where she slid into the booth where Jesse was sitting and pulled out her sketchbook.

“Okay, you wanted a dagger,” she said. “Which one of these do you like better? Let’s start from there.”

“Start from there?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she said. “Can’t let you have flash, can I? Not when you got me the job. You’ll have a totally fresh tattoo, one of a kind.”

“That’s awesome!” he crowed. “I love both of them. Maybe you could take this one and add some blood?”

Allie laughed.

“Sure, blood, I can do that,” she said. “Nice and gory. Tough guy.”

“That’s me,” he said with a grin.

The redheaded girl socked his arm lightly.

“Speaking of being tough,” he said. “I’ve been chickening out of something for weeks.”

“Oh yeah?” she asked.

He opened his mouth, shut it again, and stared at her.

Finally, he took a deep breath.

“Allie, will you-” he started, but something over her shoulder caught his eye and his voice faded away.

She turned.

A man was walking up to the booth, alone. There was something about him that made Allie shiver.

This man was dangerous.

He smiled at her and Jesse, and she relaxed a little, but she was put in mind of nothing so much as a tiger dozing in the sun, deliberately sheathing its claws to put her at ease.

“Jesse, is this the Allie I’ve heard so much about?” he asked.

He had a trace of a Southern accent, but he was more nuanced, more educated-sounding than she expected.

“I’m Allie,” she said.

He stuck out his hand.

“Merle. Nice t’meet you,” he said. “Listen,” he added, as she shook his hand, “Can I sit with you for a minute?”

When they both nodded, he slid into the booth beside Allie.

“Daniel Rathkis is up to something,” he said, bluntly. “I think he’s looking for Allie. His assholes have been prowling around, asking questions about Carlos’s new artist.”

“Shit,” she muttered.

“Pretty much,” Merle said, with a sidelong smile at her.

He was a truly handsome man, and a tiny part of her fluttered at his smile… but he wasn’t her type. Besides, he didn’t seem actually interested.

“So, this thing you do, where you walk home to a cheap motel, where you wander around downtown all day and night? That’s gotta stop,” he said. “We’re prepared to protect you, but I’m not getting my guys mixed up if you put yourself in danger being stupid.”

Allie nodded, slowly.

“I guess I need someplace else to stay,” she said.

Merle reached out and tapped the shoulder of a man walking by.

“Get me Carlos,” he said.

The man nodded and disappeared into the busy room.

He apparently didn’t have far to go, Carlos appeared at the booth a few moments later.

“What can I do for you, boss?” he asked.

“Let her crash on your couch,” Merle said, jerking a thumb at Allie. “Are you comfortable with that?” he asked the girl.

“I mean, yeah, as long as I’m not too in the way,” she said.”

“In the way?” he asked. “In the way? You don’t kill your golden goose. You don’t let some fucking creep fuck up your golden goose. You give your golden goose your spare bedroom until she feels safe getting her own apartment.”

“I’m your golden goose?” she asked.

“Last few people who had your space were dudes, gruff, old-school assholes who didn’t feel like catering to the whims of posers,” he said.

Allie snorted.

“Exactly,” he said. “You know that their money’s as good as anybody else’s, and you make them feel good and sexy and fun. I’m pretty happy taking sixty percent of the business you bring in.”

“Anyways,” Merle said. “Glad that’s settled, because it doesn’t look like Daniel is going away. I need you to tell us exactly how you met him, and what he said.”

Carlos slid into the booth next to the still-silent Jesse, who was sitting bolt upright with his arms crossed over his chest.

Allie related that whole terrible night, how exhausted she was, how miserable, how frightening it was. Merle asked a few pointed questions about what the  two men looked like. When she finished her story, Merle sighed.

“Sounds like one of Daniel’s favorite bullies,” he said. “Hired muscle to keep the girls in line. I’d bet a thousand dollars that the whole thing was a setup to make you feel scared and grateful.”

Allie shivered.

“I’m glad your mother was there,” she told Jesse frankly. “I was so tired, I probably would have gone with him, even though I knew it was a really bad idea.”

“That’s why assholes like him keep an eye on bus stops,” Merle said. “Now, I won’t say that we’ve never pimped for a girl, but the girls come to us, and we take a cut of what they make, not all of it. We make sure they have condoms, and we protect them.”

Jesse blushed a little, Allie noticed.

Merle looked Allie in the eyes.

“I don’t want you to find out weeks or months from now that the Night Horses have whores, and feel like we lied to you. I’m not gonna tell you that the women who do that are all super happy to do it, but we’ve never once tried to force anyone into it. Yeah, some of them use it for drug money, but they could steal or sell for it instead.”

Allie nodded.

“As long as you don’t want me to do anything like… anything like that, I can’t really complain about where you make some of your money,” she said. “I’m so grateful that you’re helping me out.”

Merle sighed. “I’d rather we made more money from tattooing suburban moms, and less from illegal crap, worrying about that all day is gonna make me go grey.”

He nodded, once, decisively.

“Okay, we’ve got this. You stay with Carlos and Jesse, okay? Daniel should lose interest in you soon enough.”

“I will,” Allie promised. “Thank you.”

Merle stood up and walked away, joining a few other men at the bar.

Allie, Jesse, and Carlos watched him go.

“Those guys are the ones he trusts to get shit done,” Carlos said. “Any time you can’t find me or Jesse, go to one of them and they’ll take care of you. They’re good guys. The one with the ponytail is Jackson, the other is Alex.”

“Jackson and Alex,” Allie said. “Ask for Jackson or Alex. I can do that.”

“Good girl,” Carlos said. “Now, I’m gonna go get a drink of my own and then I’ll take you home. Jesse, you stay with our girl here. I don’t think that that would be too much of a hardship for you.

Jesse nodded, once, sharply, in an unconscious imitation of Merle.

His eyes were hard, and she realized that she’d never heard him be quiet for this long. She felt a little warm and tingly that he was this protective of her, but… she missed the silly, goofy Jesse.

“So, what were you going to ask me? Before Merle showed up?” she asked.

“Oh,” he said. “Um.”

Almost instantly, he was blushing and rubbing the back of his neck.

“I was wondering if you’d like to go to the movies with me. I mean, I’d pay. Because it would be a date. We don’t have to go to the movies. I just… I like movies. Do you like movies? Would you like to maybe go out with me?” he stammered.

Allie grinned at him.

“I’d
love
to go to the movies with you,” she said. “Or anywhere else, really. As a date.”

“Great!” he exclaimed. He checked the time on his phone quickly. “They always play something at 6:50 at the place near here, we have plenty of time to go get some candy and watch something. I don’t really care what’s playing.”

She found herself relaxing enough to giggle a little.

“Sure, suits me fine, you wanna head out?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah. I do. I really do.”

The date was wonderful. The best Allie had ever been on. It was… sweet. They held hands in line, they held hands during the movie, they leaned on each other and enjoyed being close to each other.