I was painting the inside of the bar and Venom Brothers clubhouse when Mike and Will walked in.
“Hey, guys.” I craned my neck and looked to the side. Mike was carrying a case full of beer and he set it down with a grin.
“Need some help?”
I rolled my eyes. I’d called the others hours ago and told them that we needed to do some serious renovating. We’d had this clubhouse for a few years, and while I didn’t think it was the greatest place on earth, it did have the potential to look much better. After spending time with Jasmine and seeing where the Wild Witches hung out, I felt pretty goddamned ashamed of our sorry-looking shack.
“Assholes,” I muttered under my breath. Mike set the crate down and ripped off the top, handing me a bottle of beer. As I leaned down, the ladder shifted precariously, and I grabbed onto the top with both hands, howling.
Mike and Will threw their heads back in laughter. “You’re fucking ridiculous,” Will said with a smirk on his face. “And you say you need help?”
I rolled my eyes again, climbing down and wiping my sweaty forehead off with my arm. I hadn’t been sleeping well since Jasmine had admitted her real identity to me. Sure, I was an idiot for not recognizing my old girlfriend. But I didn’t think that blame lay entirely with me. After all, she was the one who’d lied about who she was for years. And all this time, she’d been right under my nose.
Will grabbed a bucket of paint, a brush, and climbed up the ladder. Within seconds, his masterful brush strokes covered the wall and ceiling in a big swath of white. I had to admire him; he was much better with his hands than I was, and a damn good mechanic, too.
“Nice job,” I called out, reaching out and smacking the ladder with my hand. Will’s face fell and he grabbed onto the top, looking as stiff and out-of-place as I had only a few minutes ago. “I’m fucking with you,” I said loudly. “Relax!”
Will grinned and shook his head. “You fucker,” he said with an affectionate grin. “What happened with that biker chick, Penelope?”
I laughed. “Jasmine,” I corrected darkly as Will set the brush down in a tray of paint. “Her name’s Jasmine.” I swallowed hard. Just thinking about her again was setting my cock twitching and my heart thumping in my chest. I hated her, but if I hated her so fucking much, why couldn’t I stop thinking about her? Just the sound of her name in my mouth was enough to make me close my eyes and dream about how her soft, hot lips had felt all over my body. But she was a dangerous dream to have, and I couldn’t keep dwelling on someone who had hurt me so badly.
“And?” Will raised his eyebrows and thrust his hips forward, winking at me. I felt a hot flash cross over my body. “Did you fuck her?”
I laughed out loud. “She tried to fuck me,” I said with a wink, glancing quickly downward so no one would know that I was lying. “But we couldn’t have any of that now, could we?”
Will laughed again. “You need to get laid,” he said as he leaned down and punched me hard in the arm. It hurt—I found my eyes tearing up with the force of his punch. “It’ll cure whatever’s bothering you.”
Mike and I started washing the floor clean with the power-washer. Soon, the sound of water hitting the floor at an incredibly fast pace drowned out any hope of conversation. As I watched years of alcohol and grime melt away from the concrete, part of me felt like the clubhouse was being washed clean. This can be a fresh start, I thought. Just get back to what we were all about in the first place. Get some new guys in, get some new dealers. Really figure out how to take my own goddamn life back.
“Hey,” Mike said loudly. He turned off the power-washer and a spray of water fell to the floor. My hair was soaked from the condensation but it felt good, refreshing. Outside was already scorching hot, and I knew that by afternoon, it would be fucking roasting out there. “When are we meeting the Russians?”
I checked my phone for the time. “We have to leave in an hour,” I said gruffly. “Where’s the rest of the cash?”
Will pointed towards the ceiling. “Upstairs,” he said in a dark voice. “In one of the store rooms. You know where it is, man,” he added in a low tone. “Remember? We hid it up there last week.”
I nodded, feeling dazed. So much shit had happened over the past couple of weeks that I could barely remember anything anymore, but I was always glad for the guys to have my back.
"We gotta get ready soon," I said as I tucked the ladder off to the side of the room. "We can finish cleaning this shit up tomorrow. I think the bar should stay closed tonight."
“Oh yeah?” Mike raised his eyebrows. “What were you thinking?”
“Well, we’re getting Derrick back from the Russians,” I said with a smirk. “I’m pretty sure he’s gonna wanna party.”
Will nodded and clapped. “Hell yeah,” he said with a whistle. “You want me to call some girls in?”
I shook my head tersely. “No,” I said as I reached down and began to pick at the scabs forming on my cuticles. “No, don’t bother doing that. We don’t know what time we’re getting back, after all,” I said, trying to smile. But the anxiety was starting to come back, and now I had no idea what the fuck I was actually going to do when we showed up to meet the Russians. I had a nasty feeling that Leo was going to show up demanding a little something extra for the trouble of keeping Derrick.
Part of being an outlaw meant that we couldn't rely on the law to take care of us. That was the one thing that a lot of guys tended to gloss over when they first joined up. They assumed that yeah, of course, we were allowed to break the laws. But then no one stopped to ask what would happen if someone did the same to us. Shaking my head, I washed my hands in a sink at the back of the bar and wiped them on my jeans. It was only an hour left to go, and I had to get ready.
Twenty minutes later, Will, Mike, and I hopped in a van and made the hour-long drive to the desert. LA was as hot as anything that day, and I was sweating before we’d even closed the doors to the van. The air conditioning was rickety and on the fritz, and I made my hand into a fist and slammed it against the vent as we drove through the bumpy, dusty roads.
“Come on,” I threatened the air conditioning. “Don’t quit on me now, you fucker!”
“Relax,” Will said. He reached out and slapped me hard on the back. “We got this. You know we got this, don’t you?”
I looked at him. “Didn’t you think about what they might’ve done to Derrick by now?” I asked loudly, straining my voice to be heard over the rumbling engine. “They might have sliced his fingers off or taken out an eye. They always want us to know that they’re in charge, don’t forget it.”
Will looked visibly shaken by the time he pulled his hand away. I rolled my eyes. I was sick of this shit. I was sick of dealing with men who couldn’t face the consequences for whatever bloody actions they saw fit to participate in most of the time. Mike was the same fuckin’ way—happy as anything to break into the Wild Witches clubhouse, but when it came time to think about the safety of his own brothers, I knew that he was a goner.
Clouds of dust engulfed the van and I hunched over the steering wheel, looking hard at the dirty ground. It hadn’t rained in weeks and the soil—if you could call it that—was cracked and dry. I imagined the cracks and crevices going all the way to the bottom of the earth until the molten core at the center melted the hard ground into a liquid soup of dust. It wasn't exactly a comforting image; it was hellish. But that was okay, I figured. My life was pretty hellish at this point, too. No use thinking otherwise when danger was so close to my face.
“Come on,” Will urged. He tapped on my thigh. “Look, we’re already ten minutes late.” He wiped the dust and grime off the digital clock that glowed a pale green. “We gotta hurry.”
I bit my lip. “They’ll wait,” I said, trying to sound confident. The metal cases of money rattled around in the back of the van. Instead of soothing my nerves, they only made me feel more aggrieved. I couldn’t wait for this shit to be over, but oddly enough, right now didn’t even feel like the worst part.
“They’d better,” Mike mumbled. “And then tonight, we’ll party.” He closed his eyes and folded his hands against his slight beer belly, relaxing in the hot, faded leather seat. “Tonight we party with everything in us.”
If we make it back alive, I thought darkly. I couldn’t help but think of Jasmine and everything she’d told me. If her girl gang was trying to tear us under, cops could be at the meeting point, watching for us. A chill of fear came over my body as I glanced around, almost positive that I’d see cherry red and blue raspberry lights flickering over the dusty ground.
I blinked. There were no cops out here. Trying to relax, I took a deep breath and pushed my foot on the gas pedal until the van shot forward on the dirt road. We bounced hard over a couple of rocks, and my head banged against the ceiling. I winced but didn't slow down. In a few seconds, I could feel hot blood trickling down the sides of my face and soaking into my shirt collar. It mixed with the drops of sweat clinging to the back of my neck and made me feel altogether wholly unpleasant like I hadn't showered in days.
Despite the insane heat, I was still chilled with fear as we pulled into the clearing. There were a couple of cars parked, but I couldn’t see anyone standing around. Taking a deep breath, I looked at both my guys.
“We’re here,” I said slowly. “We’re here now, and we need to handle this as best as we possibly can. You guys think that we can do this?”
Mike and Will nodded, looking less confident by the second. “We got it, boss,” Mike said. His voice sounded hollow and empty in the vastness of the desert. “Just let me at ’em,” he said, making a fist with his hand and swinging it through the air. “Let me at ’em!”
I shook my head. “We gotta be calm, first,” I said in a warning tone. “We can’t act like we’re fucking god’s gift to the world. Not until the guns are in hand and Derrick’s safe, you got that?”
Mike nodded. For a moment, I could tell he was thinking about Derrick’s situation, and how easily it could have been him instead. He gestured to Will and then swung open the rusty metal door.
“Come on,” I said darkly as I climbed out of the driver’s seat and patted the gun tucked into my waistband. “Let’s go get our boy and our guns.”
Outside of the van almost felt cool for a second—there was a strong breeze that ruffled the ends of my hair and felt relaxing. But then I felt the intense heat of the sun on my bare arms and a different kind of sweat broke out all over my body. I knew I was just biding time until this was over and we could go home, back to the safety of LA.
“Hey,” I said loudly. “Leo? We’re here,” I added in a loud voice, gazing around in a circle. Aside from the cars, the landscape and terrain looked almost untouched. Above my head, birds squawked loudly and flew around my head in a lopsided circle. Fucking buzzards can’t even wait until I’m dead, I thought, resisting the urge to reach for my gun and shoot them all done. Fucking assholes think they can take me alive.
"Ah, Mr. Joshua," Leo's familiar Russian accent drawled. He climbed out from the passenger seat of one of the cars, dressed immaculately in a gray suit with a navy blue shirt underneath. "You are late." He grinned at me with his mouth but not his eyes, and I felt another trace of nervousness through my body. "Now we do business, yes?"
I stepped forward. “Mike.Will,” I barked loudly, clapping my hands in front of me. “Get the cash.”
Mike and Will scuttled back to the van and pulled the suitcases out of the back. They gleamed in the sunlight, the reflection on the silver metal almost blinding. Leo grinned when he saw Mike and Will struggling with the weight of the cash.
“Good,” Leo said. He rubbed his hands together and smiled widely at me. A glint of something metal from his mouth—a gold tooth—winked at me in the sun and I shivered. Somehow, in all of our meetings with the Russians, I’d never noticed it before.
“So you have Derrick?” I stepped forward and crossed my arms over my chest. Mike and Will hung behind me, clutching the suitcases in their hands. “Where is he?”
"He's safe," Leo said with the same cold, calculated smile as he'd worn before he'd seen the money. "We get the money first. Then you get your Derrick."
I shifted my weight from one foot to the other and shook my head. “No,” I said sharply. “At the same time. We agreed on that. Come on, Leo. Don’t be unfair.”
Leo grinned. “You know, for someone who’s so dumb, you are awfully brave,” he said in a thick accent. “You don’t even know what’s happening, you don’t even get what those bitches are doing behind your back.”
A trickle of fear ran down my spine.
“Hey, Joshua, what the fuck is he talking about?” Will walked closer, still clutching onto the suitcase. His face was strained and his eyes were narrowed. “What bitches? What the fuck is going on?”
“I have no idea,” I lied. “Come on, Leo. Stop fucking around and hand over the guns. And Derrick,” I added. “We don’t have time for this bullshit, and I have a feeling you don’t have time for it either.”
Leo stood and gave me an odd, twisted little grin. He cocked an ear to the wind. “I hear something,” he mused. “But what is that? What is it that I’m hearing?”
My breath caught in my throat. Sirens! Those are definitely sirens! “Oh shit,” I muttered. “What the fuck is this!”
Mike’s hands grabbed my arm. The metal suitcase dropped down into the dirt and before I could even begin to reprimand him for being so sloppy, Leo snapped his fingers and two of his henchmen ran out of the cars and dove for the suitcase. I shoved Mike down in the dirt and he wrapped his arms around the metal, clinging on fiercely.
“Give us the fucking guns,” I snarled, leaning down close and staring Leo right in his rotten, long face. “Give us the fucking guns or I’ll kill you. If I’m already going to prison, it doesn’t matter what it’s for,” I bluffed, pulling the gun from my waistband and shoving it in Leo’s face. “I don’t give a shit if I kill you. If I go to prison, I don’t need to buy your guns anymore.”
Leo’s face registered obvious shock and horror.
“What the fuck, man?” Mike hissed behind me. I held up my hand to make him stay quiet.
“You do what I said,” I said cockily, keeping my gun trained on Leo’s fat head. “You do it now.”
Leo let out a sigh. He backed away towards the cars, and I followed him, advancing step by step until we were standing next to the truck. With a shaking hand, Leo pulled out a key and unlocked the trunk, sending it open to the sky. Inside, four large cases of guns lay stacked on top of each other.
“These are for you,” Leo said. He gestured towards the cases. “Get your men to come take them.” He smiled at me, having lost all traces of his obvious fear. “Now give me the money,” Leo added. He held his hands out, beckoning me. “Come on,” Leo said. “Hurry up and take the guns, you fool, before the cops get here.”
Adrenaline kicked in. I grabbed two of the cases and struggled with them towards the van. They were astoundingly heavy—each one had to be over one hundred pounds—and I felt my knees ache with the strain as I finally shoved them into the back of the van.
“Mike! Will!” I yelled loudly. “Give him the fucking money and get Derrick!”
By the time I got back to the Russians’ car, Leo was rifling through the cash. He was counting it rapidly, his eyes green with greed. He stared at the money in a riveting way, like he’d never seen anything so beautiful in his life.
The sirens were getting louder and louder, and I felt my anxiety spike again. Grabbing Leo by the shoulders, I shoved my face against his.
“Give us Derrick,” I ordered in a low voice. “Right now, you fuck. Or I’ll shoot you and leave your body for the buzzards.”
Leo trembled in my strong grip. He raised one of his arms and snapped his fingers loudly in the air. His hands were so sweaty that it took three tries. Even though the sirens were advancing, I watched him struggle and shake with immense satisfaction.
At the sound of Leo’s fingers snapping loudly, one of his stooges opened the trunk of the other car. I heard a muffled shout and a scream and looked over to see Derrick. He was hogtied with a blindfold on and something crammed in his mouth, but for the most part, he looked fine.
“Grab him,” I hissed.
Mike and Will ran towards the car and scooped Derrick up, carrying him back to the van and tossing him in the backseat. Leo and his men climbed into their cars and took off.
Bolting over to the driver’s side of the van, I shoved the key in the ignition and pressed my foot hard on the gas pedal. Come on, start, I thought desperately as the sirens became louder and louder. Come on, you motherfucker.