Chapter Six
(Jaxson)
Fuck it!
My bike tore along the road by the soft light of early day. It was my day off.
I found myself glancing frequently in the rear-view mirror – half expecting to see Antonio appear to chase me out of town. It was Wednesday. Two days before the election at my club. One of the brothers had staked out my place the night before, so I’m sure Antonio knew exactly where I was heading.
The landscape flashed past as I rode the 35 miles out of town to Tijuana. As it was a border town between California and Mexico, part of the city was on the U.S. side and that’s where I was headed. It was 7:30 in the morning. My heart broke to watch tears build in Chloe’s soft eyes. In the end, I caused that pain; I had to fix it. I had gotten up and dressed quickly so I could leave early while Chloe was still sleeping, partly to avoid her trying to stop me.
I had an axe to grind with Roy.
Roy’s shop was in the same town as the Blood and Bones MC clubhouse and I knew I’d had to be careful not to get caught in their territory or things could turn ugly very quickly for me.
I had a vague idea of where I was going; once I joined my MC, I rarely passed through this neck of the woods, maybe once or twice per year. A drizzly rain hung in the air. I threaded my way through the silent town’s narrow side streets that had all the restaurants, a barrage of fast-food places, coffee shops, and various sundry stores that were just opening up and little gift shops as well. It appeared to be an agreeable town. There was no hint that there might be a wide, more violent world beyond the city limits.
No hint until I passed the railroad yard. By the time I reached this point, the streets were flooded with cars. It was unnerving to pass the Blood and Bones strip joints that lined the town square, in what felt like firm warning that I was trespassing on their territory. Holy fuck. It was a damn foolish thing to come up here alone if at all, but I had no other choice. On the surface, it appeared to be a normal city street – packed with people on their way to work, and lined with small shops on either side. But as I threaded my way through the narrow side streets, steamier places started to pop up and it set me on edge. The closer I got to their bike shop, the riskier the situation became.
I was truly in another world now. Tijuana, California was a working class city. The people that lived and worked here didn’t make a lot of money and it showed in the way they kept their town. Parts of it were dirty and smelled bad while other parts of the city were a little cleaner and didn’t smell so bad. At least some of the people tried.
Just before I crossed the border to Tijuana, I passed the scene of San Diego’s most famous incident, the assassination of Charles De Luca.
The Blood and Bones MC and the Black Devils hated each other with a passion. Our rivalry went back three generations, but we’ve been sworn enemies since 2008. In the winter of ‘08, the Blood and Bones MC torched Bruno’s brother’s warehouse and assassinated him in order to try to take his territory and spread out. Bruno’s brother was such a good man that his death was shocking, and out of the blue. The ugly incident occurred just 3 months before De Luca started the club. De Luca held and got his revenge. Our rivalry had gone on from there. Each incident, each time we came together, the hits got more vicious.
My eyes narrowed. Speaking of vicious, I had reached Roy’s place, a dark and faded establishment still clinging to a hint of former grandness. I parked in the back lot and from where I sat, I could hear Roy working on a bike somewhere inside.
Once I knew where Roy was, I continued on down the hall to check the place out and see if anyone else was about. Roy’s mechanic was singing from beneath the hood of an El Camino, working on the engine.
Where on earth this place got its trade from besides a few Bloods, I couldn’t begin to guess.
I entered through the back door so that no Blood and Bones members would see me. It was early, so I hoped no one would be around yet.
A sign outside the front door read: Roy’s – NO ENTRANCE. WORK BY APPOINTMENT ONLY.
Over the pounding music from the workshop beyond, I could hear someone working on bike. I peeked in and took a look around Roy’s messy office. It only confirmed my original thoughts about the man being a slob. I saw many fast food boxes stacked on top of an already full trashcan and shook my head.
I had only seen Roy a handful of times when he’d come into Mandy’s to pick up some free food. I’d taken an instant dislike to the man. The man in the office was a whiskey-bellied, grim looking man of about 50, with a grey ponytail, dressed extremely casually in jeans that were one size too big with no belt and a shirt almost half way undone.
Roy’s office could only be described as a disaster zone. Stacks upon stacks of paperwork cluttered his desk that could never be conceivably sorted out. Considering the weeks’ worth perhaps months’ worth of disorganised paperwork sprawled over Roy’s desk, the man seemed remarkably equable and was sitting back in his chair spooning a tall stack of pancakes with butter and maple syrup from a takeaway box with his mouth hugely agape and bobbing his head to Women by Def Leppard. His eyes were half open but he paid no attention to anything but stuffing his face with food.
I amused myself for a minute watching him before I stepped into the room and turned the volume dial right down on the CD player that sat on his desk to mute the damn thing, which alerted him to my presence.
When Roy discovered that he had company he jumped up, and his head turned in my direction. “Morning. No customers out back.” He turned the music back up, with seeming disinterest.
I unplugged it from the wall.
“What the fuck! Are you deaf or something?” His face hardened as his eyes locked with mine.
“No, sir,” I said, keeping my voice calm.
“Look if you’re my 9 o’clock fill in this registration form, bike model, problem, all that shit.”
I didn’t answer.
Roy scooped the last of his sugary concoction from the box and then pulled a hip flask out of the top draw of his desk.
“A little early to be dinking, ain’t it?” I asked.
“The stuff doesn’t work on me. Never has. I drink and I drink whenever I want and I don’t feel any different.”
“You sure about that?” I asked, raising a brow at him.
“Yup,” he replied with a relaxed grin, starting at the flask before he downed another swig of whiskey with a swallow. He rolled his chair across to the window to his left, pressed his face up right up to the dusty glass to peer out of his office window that looked out onto the car parking lot.
My bike was the only vehicle there.
“That’s one hell of a ride and some pretty nice metal for a man your age. Customized. Limited- Edition model. That’s a rare breed of bike. What did a ride like that cost you? $40,000?
“Fifty,” I corrected as he rambled on to cover his own nervousness. I could almost feel him starting to sweat.
“So are you my 9 o’clock?”
I shook my head.
“Didn’t you read the damn sign? No one gets in here without an invitation. Do you know that this shop is part of the Blood and Bones MC?”
I shrugged like I didn’t care about his warnings and I didn’t bother answering his question, instead I asked one of my own, “I received a tip at my club’s bar that a girl came in battered and bruised by someone around town. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you Mr. Harris?”
“You have no grounds to come into my garage and accuse me. That’s a lie. Whoever your source is, they’re making it up.” The question didn’t faze Roy in the slightest.
“I won’t have any man touch a woman like that. Not in my town.”
“I don’t have time for your petty bullshit.”
“Chloe is a friend of mine.”
“Ohhh. So that’s how it is.”
“What it is… is none of your damn business.”
Before I knew it, Roy stood over me.
It was a moment of…Holy shit! At about six foot four and 250 pounds, he was freakishly large. He only thought he was tough though, I knew I could take this bastard. He thought his size scared me but it didn’t.
“Careful, son,” he warned. “I think I’m bigger than you are and I know I’m a hell of a lot meaner.”
“You are the scum of the earth asshole. Do me a favor and stay well away from her.”
Roy sneered and backed up a bit. “Who the hell do you think you are coming in here and threatening me?”
Jax shrugged. “Me, I’m nobody, just a friend.”
Roy jabbed me in the chest. “Well then, friend, I suggest you get the fuck out of my shop and leave me the hell alone.” He ambled back to his chair and plopped his ass down. Staring at me he asked, “What the fuck are you really doing here?”
“Nothing questionable, if that’s your concern,” I replied, although I could tell he wasn’t buying it for a second. “I came here to give you a message and I’ve done that.”
“You do realize you’re a long way from home, don’t you?” he threatened.
I smiled. I could see where he was going with this. “Yeah, I know that but I ain’t pushing drugs. I’m not here to cause trouble just to pass on a message.”
Roy snorted. “All I gotta do is make a phone call to the clubhouse and tell them I saw you pushing drugs on the street. They won’t care if it’s true or not, they’ll just stomp your ass into the ground.”
I shrugged. “Then I guess I’ll have to tell them like I’m telling you. We sell booze, not drugs.”
He huffed at me like that was a lie.
I shot him a look. “Just stay well away from Chloe. Understood.”
“Get out of here.” His eyes filled with rage and he put both hands on my chest and shoved me toward the office door.
I swallowed my fury and turned away. Not today. I’ll behave myself today.
“What? Don’t you got any balls little boy?”
I turned to see Roy, hackles raising. Fists clenching. He paused for one nerve jangling beat then he stormed towards me.
Fuck, if he wanted to push this, I’d push back.
I held up my hand and he paused. “I didn’t come here to fight with you. Asshole.”
“Oh. I’m so sorry! Let me get the kettle on and we’ll have a nice cup of tea and talk things through like a pair of women. How about that? Is that what you want?” Roy said with derisive laughter.
“Didn’t know you knew how to work a kettle,” I cut in.
He beckoned me over. “Shut the fuckin door and come say that to my face. Come on. Don’t be shy. Unless you really are a pussy.”
I locked the door to the entrance, so nobody could come in and approach him. “You fucking piece of shit! You think I’m afraid of you? You just aren’t worth the trouble.”
“That’s was pretty ballsy for a little guy like you.” He was unsteady on his feet and was a bit bigger than I was.
Roy didn’t wait for a response. He reached for his empty alcohol bottle.
I wasn’t afraid of him and he knew it. I stood my ground and he came closer ready to swing that damn bottle. “At least I don’t have to rely on a prop,” I told him motioning toward the bottle.
“You fuckin little shit.” Roy swung the bottle at my head but missed when I ducked. My fist slammed into his soft belly and he gasped for breath. I slammed my fist into his face and he went down. “Who’s the pussy now asshole?” I growled.
“Get the fuck out of here before I call the Bloods,” he grunted.
I nodded. “I’ll leave as long as you leave Chloe and her mom alone. You go near either of them again, and I’ll come back for you.”
“We’ll see about that, won’t we?” He got to his feet and took a deep breath.
“I suppose we will.”
Roy didn’t care for my comment and he took a step toward me. Then he took another and another until he was only a step away from where I stood. He tried to look intimidating but he wasn’t, not really.
My mind flashed to how Chloe reacted in this situation and I smiled a bit. I reared back my foot and I kicked him in the balls.
Roy’s eyes rolled back into his head and he crumpled to his knees, clutching his crotch, then he collapsed on the floor.
Just then, I heard the door behind me open and Roy’s mechanic walked in the office with a huge wrench in his hand. “You just made a bad mistake amigo.”
“You’d stand up for a man like him?” I asked, as I scoped out the situation.
The man shrugged. “He’s not so bad. I’ve dealt with worse men than Roy.”
I could hear more footsteps entering the garage and I knew it was gonna be bad.
Five guys were coming in through the back entrance. Voices could be heard from the hallway. The commotion was moving closer. Anticipating their arrival, I quickly looked around the office but there was no other way out except through the door the mechanic was standing in front of.
“Are we alive in there?” the leader called as they approached, walking down the hallway. “Roy, you there?”
“What are you doing here?” one of the bikers asked.
I stared at the five young men as they circle around me. Shit. “Relax boys. I’m not causing any trouble. I’m just here to talk to old Roy.” I nodded at the man lying on the floor.
One man leaned back against the doorjamb. He inhaled a deep draw of his cigarette. He removed the cigarette-butt from between his lips and smoke dribbled from his mouth as he dropped the butt to the already dirty floor. Then he stepped on the cigarette. “You shouldn’t be here. You know that right?”
“Look. Whoever you think I am, you’ve got the wrong guy.”
“You’re a Black Devil. I could smell you as soon as you rode into town.” The leader of the pack laughed loudly.
The other four jeered in agreement.
His icy gaze remained unwavering.
The four were young guys, prospects most likely, so they didn’t know who I was.
A second later, they swarmed me. Shit. All hell broke loose and the guys began to viciously attack me. A tall guy ran at me and knocked me down pinning me to the ground. I drew my gun and pistol whipped him, knocking him to the ground. When he went down, another guy took his place and we were off again.
These guys were damn inexperienced, each of them were eager enough raging into a melee but they were hurting each other more than they were hurting me. I fought back the best I could but they got in some pretty good hits. At least I was trained in this shit. I could hold my own one on one but not five on one.
The leader just stood there watching his men come at me. When three of them finally took me down to the floor, their leader pushed off the door and walked over to where I was struggling.
I glared up at him.
He spat in my face. “This is my town not yours. I’ll let you live today. You can consider this a warning. Go home kid and don’t come back here or next time, you won’t leave alive.” Then he nodded to his men and they let me go.
They all backed away except the leader as he turned his back on me.
I got up slowly. My mouth full of blood and I spat it out on the floor. “I thought you guys were honorable.” I hissed out at them as I wiped the blood off my chin.
The leader stopped and turned around to face me. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he growled.
“You approve of men trying to rape women? Isn’t there enough free pussy out there for you guys? Or do you believe some women just like it rough?”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
I looked down at Roy who was still passed out on the floor. “The message I came to give Roy was to stay away from a friend of mine. Yesterday, he damn near raped her. She’s half his age and she didn’t ask for him to do that. That’s all I was doing here.”
The leader glared at me for a moment then turned icy eyes to Roy. “He went after Chloe?”
“You know Chloe?”
“Yeah, I fuckin know Chloe,” he admitted.
I nodded. “She got away from him by kicking him in the balls. He told her not to come back to her own house or he would kill her.” I paused then sneered. “Nice friends you got there. At least in my club, we don’t have to rape our women or threaten them.”
The leader tightened his lips and growled, “Get out.”
I shrugged. Then I looked at him and asked, “Are we done here yet?”
“Get the fuckin hell out of my town.” He growled.
I nodded and watched as they all filed out of the room. I gave Roy one more kick in the ribs and then I got the hell out of there.
My bike screeched round the corner and I raced up the street. When I left the interstate, I vowed never to go back to that glowing hellhole of a town if I could help it.
I had won against him—but then I didn’t account for the hornet’s nest I’d just kicked.