Chapter 13

 

Graham

 

 

AFTER MY TALK with Raptor and Tank, I was grumpier than shit. They’d basically put a kibosh on my relaxing, fun-filled weekend. Instead of snowmobiling, I would spend the next few days wearing a red suit and a white beard. If that wasn’t bad enough, I’d have to pretend to be jolly for the kids, which was going to drive me to drink. I have a feeling as to why Santa’s eyes were always twinkling. He was half-in-the-bag most of the time.

I knew dressing up and playing him was for a good cause and everything, but I was not the right guy for the job. Hell, I wasn’t even looking forward to Christmas. I hadn’t even put up a goddamn tree, wanting the season to be over as quickly as possible. Unfortunately, there wasn’t anything that I could do about it, unless I wanted to turn in my Prospect cut disappointing both my brother and Tank.

Fuck.

I walked out of the clubhouse, needing some fresh air. The snow was coming down harder and I saw Cleaner in the parking lot, trying to plow around the vehicles with a small tractor. He saw me and waved me over.

“What’s up?” I asked.

He handed me a bunch of keys. “Can you help me move some of these vehicles so I can move some snow out of the parking lot?” he asked loudly.

“Sure,” I replied, taking them from him.

“Thanks.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of smokes. “It would have been nice if the guys would have just volunteered to move their own vehicles. But, they like to see me running.”

“You and me both. It’s payback.”

“Yeah.” He lit his cigarette.

I stared at the snow coming down. “Why don’t you just wait until this shit stops?”

“It’s not going to. We’re going to get dumped on for the next several days,” he replied. “And most of us are heading out this weekend to go snowmobiling. I want to make sure Tank and the other guys can get in and out of the parking lot.”

My eye twitched. “Okay.”

Cleaner blew out a cloud of smoke and smiled. “I heard you’re going to be playing Santa Claus. I thought for sure they were going to make me do it.”

He was also a Prospect and although he was younger than me, he looked more the part. A burly guy with a slight paunch, dimples, and bright blue eye. He always had a smile on his face, even when he was picking up after everyone, which was often. He had O.C.D. and couldn’t leave a room without cleaning something up first. Truth is, I’d never seen the clubhouse look so spotless since he’d arrived.

“Nope. Guess, I’m the lucky bastard,” I muttered.

“Come on, man. It won’t be so bad. You look like someone just pissed in your Wheaties,” he replied, looking amused.

“You want to switch with me?”

He laughed. “Fuck no. Like I said before… I’ve got the weekend off and I’m going to put some miles on my sled.”

“Yeah. Lucky you,” I said dryly. “I thought I did, too.” My sled had very little miles on it. I’d purchased it in October and it was being stored at Hoss’s cabin, since I lived in an apartment.

“Did you tell them you had other plans?” he asked, studying me.

I shook my head. I hadn’t, which was my own fault. But, somehow I think they’d already known anyway. “I doubt it would have made a difference.”

“Probably not but you should have said something. Raptor’s your brother. He might have left you off the hook.”

“I don’t need any special treatment.”

I knew that some of the other Prospects thought I’d get off easier because of Raptor, but it seemed like just the opposite. Which was why I hadn’t complained when I’d heard the news about playing Santa Claus. As mad as I’d been, I’d kept my mouth shut and hadn’t said a word about how pissed I’d really been.

He stared at me for a few seconds more and then nodded toward the vehicles. “Let’s get those cages moved so we can finish this shit up. Afterward, if they let us go, I’ll buy you a beer.”

“Sounds good,” I replied.

 

AN HOUR LATER, we’d managed to clear out most of the parking lot. Thankfully, the snow had tapered off and wasn’t supposed to pick up again for a few hours.

After putting the tractor away, we walked back into the clubhouse and handed back keys to the remaining club members that were still there.

“Anything else you need done?” Cleaner asked, when we approached Tank, who’d just gotten off the phone with someone.

“You can go home, Cleaner,” he replied and then looked at me. “You can, too. After you drop something off for me first. It looks like it should be on your way anyway.”

“Sure,” I said, relieved. “Where to?”

He tore off a piece of paper he’d written something on and handed it to me. “Here’s the address. I need you to drop off a package that’s sitting on my desk to that place.”

I looked down at the address. “Is this an apartment complex or a business?”

“Apartment.”

I nodded. “I’ll go and grab the package then. Anything else?”

He grinned. “Nope.”

Tank look amused and I wondered if something was up. Before I could ask any more questions, his phone rang again. He answered it.

“You see that look on his face?” Cleaner said as we walked away.

“I noticed.”

“Wonder what that was about?”

“Maybe he’s imagining me in a Santa suit,” I said dryly.

He chuckled. “I have to admit, that is kind of a funny vision. You as a jolly, old elf. If I wasn’t going snowmobiling this weekend, I’d take pictures and heckle you all weekend.”

I flipped him off.