23
I decided to go with the original plan for the day. I got to the bar and started work on the first bike I saw. It was Wilson’s, of course. I didn’t bother asking, just pulled out a small tool box and started giving it a tune up I was sure it needed. It was near lunch when I started to shine up the chrome on his bike, and someone noticed I was there.
“The fuck are you doing?” Teddy asked.
“I need a distraction,” I said not bothering to look up as I ran a polishing cloth over a chrome exhaust pipe.
“And you’re cleaning up Wilson’s bike instead of your own?”
I gave him a look and nodded to my own bike. It sat in my usual spot, shining without a spot on it. If he cranked it, he would have heard an unfettered growl to its engine.
“Touche,” he chuckled. “What’s going on? Why do you need a distraction?”
“I went to see Madi,” I said lowly, giving a glance to the rest of the lot. We were out there alone. “Didn’t go well.”
“Ah,” he looked away, not looking like he had anything to offer.
“You want me to do your bike next?” I asked as I went back to work.
This bike would probably look good for the first time in years, Wilson was the kind of man that road shit hard and didn’t bother to take care of it outside of what was necessary. When Teddy patched me in it had become my job to do the maintenance on his bike. I was okay with it.
“Sure,” he hovered over my shoulder, watching me work. “D’ya need to talk about it?”
I stopped, looking at his distorted reflection in the chrome. Was this his way of reaching out? Teddy was a stubborn man, he would beat his head against the wall before he’d admit he was wrong. I glanced over my shoulder at him, and I saw remorse looking back at me.
“Talk about what?”
“Your woman issues,” he snorted at me as he found a cigarette in a pocket of his cut and pulled it out. “I can’t claim to know much about them. I’ve only been married to Doris for fifteen years before she decided to call it quits.” He paused to light the cigarette and inhaled sharply, “Fucking Wilson was right though. If you don’t make an effort to fight for them, let them think you’re not interested anymore they don’t have a reason to stick around.”
I looked away from him and started to pack up my shit, “I tried to fight. She didn’t even make an effort to listen, I get the feeling I was barking up the wrong tree. She’s not in it for the hard stuff, and I got a lot of hard shit going on. Not just with this shit,” I threw down the cloth, and I struggled to my feet. “If you would have just fucking listened to me, opened your Goddamn eyes, maybe I wouldn’t be in this situation.” I looked at him hard, “If you had fucking listened to me, neither of us would have gone to jail. I might still have the girl of my fucking dreams instead of being here shining fucking bikes because I don’t think about what I just fucking lost.”
“Blame me,” he shot back at me. “I deserve it because you’re right. Jimmy is Doris’s nephew. What right do I have to believe family over you?” His tone had gone sarcastic, and he waved his hands as he spoke. “What has Jimmy done for me besides bust his ass?”
“And I haven’t busted my ass for you?” I snapped back. “I don’t have any stake in this club and all that it does? Do I ever make shit up for giggles?” I took a step towards him, baring my teeth as I spoke, “Have I ever done you wrong?”
He seemed to relent then and shook his head, “No.” After a length, he looked me in the eye and sighed, “I’m sorry, kid. I fucked up your chances with that girl, and you can hold that grudge against me for as long you want. Blame me for it all.” He threw out his arms, “Hell if I left you alone where do you think you’d be now?”
Six feet under, but I didn’t tell him that. I know over the last few days I had considered it. I backed down and rubbed my hand against the back of my neck.
“What do I do now?” I sighed.
Teddy relaxed, I guess he could see me for what I was: a directionless asshole. He shrugged,
“Do what you need to keep your head on straight. Worry about what you have control over and do what it takes to keep yourself out of trouble, like Michaels said.”
“What about the idea of the shop?” I asked out of curiosity, I remembered pitching the idea, but I didn’t know what was said after that.
“We’re going to move forward with it,” he fished his keys from his front pocket. “We got a building that’s ready and can support that kind of business. I’m going to go through the guys that need work, legal work, and see what their mechanical training’s been.” He tossed the keys to his bike at me, I caught them easily enough. It distracted me from the anger that still throbbed in me at his man. “I mentioned you should manage it and do what you can for pay. Help get you out of that shit hole you call an apartment.”
“Don’t judge my shit hole,” I grumbled and started picking up my tools.
“Smudge his bike back up,” Teddy chuckled. “Fucker won’t recognize it looking so clean.”
I started to make my way to Teddy’s bike without bothering anymore with Wilson’s.
“Then point it out to him if he starts to think his got stolen,” I called back. “Let me know when you get shit started for the shop, and I’ll do what I can.”
Any distraction would be a good distraction was the way that I saw it.
I spent the next couple of weeks doing it like that. I had a while before the trial, and I was determined to keep busy. I decided to not let any of it dwell in my head. It was work and if the Army taught me anything it was better to have work on your hands than to be idle. So I worked on everyone’s bikes, regardless as to whether or not I was asked to. I did work around the bar, replacing some rotted out wood and even climbing my ass up onto the roof to replace shingles. After I climbed down the ladder, I saw Wilson waiting on me with a scowl.
“The fuck did I do now?”
“You got a suit?” he asked, eyeing me as if I were something he had to look at and he found the act distasteful.
“Why would I?” I picked up the ladder to take it around to the little shed that sat behind the bar. “Do I look like a man that’d own a suit?”
“You’ll need it for trial, you can’t show up in a courtroom in jeans and a t-shirt covered in grease,” he followed me as I walked. “You’ve got a lot going for you in your corner, it’s in our best interest that you don’t look like some sort of punk kid.”
I snorted in amusement as I sat the ladder in the shed, “Ain’t I a punk kid?”
“Exactly,” he grunted at me as he leaned back against the wall. “We’ve got to paint the picture of you being an upstanding citizen that was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. At least part of that will be true,” he chuckled to himself. “Give Cindy your pants size, I think she can probably find a decent one.”
I groaned, but I couldn’t argue. We went back into the bar to find the attorney waiting for us.
“This why you came to hunt me up?” I asked curiously.
“We do need to start preparing you for trial,” Warren spoke up from the table he was parked at. He already had a plate of wings and a pint of beer on the table. “Give you an idea as to what you should expect and how you’ll be expected to behave.”
I went to his table to join him, “I don’t get to just sit there and look pretty?”
Warren chuckled in amusement, and I heard Wilson growl out, “Fucking kid.”
“No,” he shook his head. “While that’s the majority of what you will be doing, sitting there and listening. It’s in your best interest to pay attention and try to do your best to keep from looking bored. If you fall asleep, that can pretty much be a nail in the coffin for you.” He looked down at the meal before him and seemed to be considering his words. “You might be asked questions, and it’ll be smart that you refrain from using profanity.” He looked at me, “Will the majority of your tattoos be covered by a suit?”
I didn’t have any on my neck, and the only ones that I couldn’t cover were on my hands and fingers. I held up the back of my hands, “Unless I wore gloves, though I think that would be kind of lame.”
Warren nodded in agreement, “You can keep your hands off the table, and it’ll be a little less telling. It’ll be pretty easy to clean you up and have you presentable looking next week.”
“I’m fine with cleaning up as long as I don’t end up in jail for something I didn’t do,” I told him stiffly. It’s not that I didn’t think I could hack jail, it’s just that I didn’t want to hack jail, especially when all I was doing was keeping an eye on someone. If I had to wear a monkey suit to keep my freedom, I’d do it.