The Run (The Hell's Disciples MC Book 4) (2 page)

I notice the whole crew is here and a few stragglers hangin’ around, sitting at the bar and lounging on the couches. Fucking hang arounds. Wherever we go, they follow.

Speaking of hang arounds, Jess is standing by the bar, giving me the look, but the bitch looks retarded, like she’s caught a boot to the head one too many times. Fuck I’m hungry, but I’ve decided I’m not that damn hungry.

Ignoring her, I make a b-line in the opposite direction. You linger around and that woman, she’s liable to steal somethin’ from ya, like years off your life and money out of your wallet.

The floor bows under my boot when I take a step in Dan’s direction, giving with my weight. The club, bar, and motel are shitholes. No one takes care of this place and it shows. Fuck, this whole goddamn piece of property is fallin’ down around its ears. There isn’t a chair in the place matches. Couldn’t tell ya what color the walls are supposed to be, and I don’t have the slightest clue as to what the floor is made of, but it’s scuffed, cracked, painted, and dirty as fuck. Tables lean, windows are broken, and the jukebox works about fifty percent of time. No one but the strongest, hardened of the locals will come around here, and it’s not to eat. Your average passer-through would rather walk the twenty miles into town than stop in here to use a phone, ask for help, or even use the bathroom. It’s a dump, but this shitty piece of land is my second home. It’s everything we need in the world.

Giving me a chin lift, Danny Boy tips his beer at me in a silent ‘get your ass over here.’ He’s sitting in the corner, conducting what looks like business with a bottle of beer and pocket knife.

We aren’t a big bunch, just ten of us, well, nine now that Lou’s missing, but we’re pretty fucking big in the grand scheme of things. Here in Oregon, we have Danny Boy as our President, Mossy as Vice President, and Tink as Treasurer. Tyler holds the position of Secretary and Rock is our Road Captain, and I’m the Sargent at Arms. We also have Poncho, Spike, and Big Ben as full-patched members. Then there’s some new prospect dipshit named Neo, gunning to be a patched member, but I just don’t see it happenin’.

Just as I begin to make my way over to Danny Boy, Jess makes her move. I try to dodge her, but she’s on me like a fly on shit, immediately assaulting me by touching me and rubbing her hand on my chest. Suddenly she can’t keep her greedy little hands off me which is funny since I remember a time the bitch fucking hated me.

“Buck, baby.” Her touch makes my skin crawl. Looking down at her make-up smeared face and tired eyes, I can’t help but feel like I dodged a fucking bullet with her.

“What?” Shit, I never should’ve responded. Talking to her only seems to encourage her and that’s the last thing I want to do.

“I don’t like your hair like this, it’s too messy. Ya know, I’ve tried calling you,” she says, batting her eyelashes at me. I’ll bet she has, but I blocked her ass a long time ago.

“Don’t care. Get the fuck off me, Jess.” Today is not the day to get on my nerves.

“Buck, we need to talk. Please?” she whines. The fuck we do. There’s nothing she can say that I haven’t already heard. Staring blankly at the bitch, I pretend to listen to her tell me all the shit she needs, but I can’t even bring myself to give a flying fuck.

“Buck, are you listening to me?” I stopped listening to her two years ago.

“Nope.”

“Buck, dammit.”

“Don’t fuckin’ “Buck” me. You got all the time you’re gonna get from me, so stay the fuck outta my way and I’ll let you keep your fucking job. If you can’t do that then get the fuck gone.” I’m not sure when she’s gonna learn. Maybe when she’s finally out on her ass; hungry, cold, and homeless.

I leave her standing there looking stupid; mouth hanging open, eyes wide. She can find someone else to tell her sob story to because I have some beers to drink and no fucks to give.

Church, a necessary evil, is held out back in room one of the no-tell motel. The Y is located in an L-shaped building with ten used and abused rooms out back of the bar. The rooms are everything that was bad about the sixties, each decorated with ugly as shit flowered wallpaper, gold bedding, piss yellow shag carpets, and furry puke-colored lamps. It’s a fucking nightmare.

Someone got the bright idea that one of these horrible rooms would be perfect to conduct business in, so they shoved the bed against one wall, dumped the nightstands and dresser outside, and stuck an old table and chairs in their place. It works, I suppose.

We sit at the table in order or by rank. Dan’s at the head, Tink, Rock, and Tyler sit on his left, while Mossy and I sit on his left. Poncho, Spike, and Big Ben sit to either side at the ends. Neo, the fucking idiot, is waiting outside.

Sitting around the table, I listen and I comment, but what I really want to do is go the fuck home and relax. I love the fuck outta my brothers, but I’m so damn tired.

Sticking a smoke between my lips, I flick out my Zippo. “This is one of those ‘no smoking’ rooms, brother,” Rock comments, jerking his chin towards the old sign hanging upside down on the wall. That’s the bums way of asking for a smoke.

“Is that so?” I challenge him, lighting up and taking a long, satisfying drag. “You want one, you better start sayin’ that magical word, brother,” I say as I blow out a drag in his direction

“Fuck you. Pass me one of those, asshole,” he chuckles. He’s such a fucking sweetheart. I slide the pack towards him and recline in my seat.

“Okay boys, let’s get down to business,” Dan rumbles from the head of the table, shutting everyone up. “We still got ATF sniffing around and local law breathing down our necks from that raid a few months back. Keep shit tight and close to the vest this week. Loose lips sink ships, remember that shit.”

It’s not likely we’d forget that anytime soon. Lou’s been missing for a few weeks. He’s not a brother who would just up and leave us, so something bad had to have gone down for him to not be here. 

“This hand-off will net us big, so we need everyone at one hundred percent.” Sadly, that was when Lou disappeared, during a hand-off, so I’m confident we’ll all be at the ready. It cuts fucking deep to lose a brother, but we’re working to find out anything we can on if he’s dead or alive. If we find out for certain that he’s dead, we’ll mourn him as soon as we bury the asshole responsible for taking him.

“Poncho and Tyler, you do the drop in a few days. Mossy and Ben, you’re making the run up to the border. Friday we have a shipment needing an escort, so I’ll need Ben to handle that.”

“I’m not doin’ it?” I ask. Three days ago he was giving me the rundown on this job. I hate when he changes shit on us at the last fucking minute.

“Nah, I’ll go with Ben. He needs more hands-on experience. Ya know, get his hands dirty for a change. But I got somethin’ special for you, Buck,” Dan informs me with a grin. Well shit, this can’t be good.

Dan begins to break shit down, giving us our orders. Before we end the meeting, he asks if any of us got shit to say, and of course, someone always does.

“The Road Raiders have rolled into town,” Mossy sneers. Their name alone makes me roll my eyes. In my opinion, they’re the softest group of assholes this side of the mountain, but I see Rock stiffen. I don’t like them either, but I get why Rock hates those fuckers. It runs deep in him, way before joining our club.

The Road Raiders are an MC from a little town about a hundred miles east of us. They’re nothing special in my opinion, but they like to cause shit from time to time. They like to challenge our authority, always trying to see how far they can push us. We’ve heard talk that they were partnering up, but nothing has come of it yet, at least as far as we know, but until then, they’re still a pack of pussies on bikes to me.

“The bunch of them fucks?” Dan asks. Mossy is practically salivating at the idea of taking them out.

“Four of ‘em. They ain’t causin’ trouble, but I think they’re scoutin’. Not sure if they’re lookin’ for trouble or just travelin’ through, but we should keep an eye on ‘em.”

The Road Raiders are our number one suspects in Lou’s disappearance. I think they’re trying to make some sort of point that they’re not the pussies we think they are. They’re all about to be a bunch of dead pussies. We’re all jonesing for a fight and instead of wiping the earth clean of them like we fucking should, we’re waiting. If we’re wrong, we’ll look weak, trigger happy, and unorganized, making us an easy target for other clubs, thinking they can wipe us out. We need proof; give them enough rope to hang themselves.

“We need to go down ‘n remind ‘em they’re in Disciples territory,” Mossy says on the edge of his seat. Not sure what his old ass thinks he’s gonna do. He can barely walk up a flight of stairs without needing to sit and have a smoke or a hit off his inhaler.

Shaking his head, Dan says, “We watch ‘em and we wait. Might be here thinkin’ they can crash our party, or they might be here lookin’ to cause more trouble. For now, we wait. Let’s see what they’re up to.”

“Yeah, I’ll be watchin’,” Mossy drawls, puffing on his cigar. I’m sure he will be.

The run-down of our weekly business is laid out on the table; pick-ups, drop-offs, deals are delegated, grievances are aired, and messes are cleaned up before we’re dismissed with a flick of Dan’s hand.

“Buck, got a second?” Dan hollers when I’m about six feet from the door. Fuck, I was so close to freedom. I got a sec, just not for whatever he’s about to say.

“Depends,” I say, lingering by the door.

“Sit your ass down.” He points to the chair I just vacated.

“Yeah, fine. What is it?”

I can hear Dan’s words, but they aren’t making much sense. I’m waiting for my brain to catch up or him to start speaking English again. I should’ve kept on walking.

“Come again?” I sure the fuck wasn’t expecting this.

“Need you up in Washington to pick up a girl stayin’ with Sis and Tank.” He keeps saying it, but I’m just not grasping it. 

“You do, huh?” I mutter, leaning against the back of the seat. Running a hand through my hair, I feel the tension building in my head. I definitely wasn’t expecting this, nor is it something I want to be doing.

“Yep.”

“When?”

“Now? Why the fuck do you want me to do it?” We’re a fucking chauffeuring service now? Isn’t this the sort of shit we got Neo for?

“The girl needs a place to crash for a while and it’s your place she’ll be crashin’ at. Tank asked me and now I’m tellin’ you. You can handle her.”

I need to stop being such a nice guy. Apparently, it’s giving the club the impression I’m good with people and their sensitive ass situations. Do I look like a goddamn bed and breakfast?

Digging his phone out of his pocket, he starts searching through it. “Got her picture here.”

“You got her picture? Got her history too? Last meal, folks names?”

Sliding his phone towards me, I catch it before it slides off onto the floor. Once I get a look at the picture lighting up the screen, I slide the phone back to him.

No fucking way ... not happening. I figure I’m pretty fucking tough, but not that tough.

“Can’t do it,” I tell him, taking a long pull from my now lukewarm beer. She’s too goddamn hot. She’s too fucking much for me to have to deal with right now. That picture tells me all I need to know. There is no way in hell I can live with someone who looks like her.

“You can,” he assures me. His confidence in me is concerning. I shouldn’t have to remind him of why this shit is a bad idea.

“And she can’t stay here because...”

“Seein’ as we’re ‘bout to have a full fuckin’ house here real soon, she either stays with you or the brothers do. You want all the guys crashin’ at your place? It’s either her or them, take your pick.”

He’s really not giving me a choice. Dan’s just humoring me for shits and giggles with his offer of a choice. I don’t have shit to say on the matter.

Getting up, he walks around the table to my side. I know I don’t have a chance in hell of getting out of this. Clasping my shoulder he nods, satisfied with the knowledge of knowing I’ll do what he asks.

“Thanks, brother.”

“Yeah, sure.” Why the fuck does this shit always happen to me? I’m not the man for the job, but Dan’s hard-headed ass won’t listen. I’ve now been downgraded to club manny.