Benz

Bear Bullock took me in when I was 16. There was no doubt that he was the only kind of father I had. And Bear was running this show. There was no one I trusted more to handle the bigger picture for The Saints.

I’d spent the morning helping in the body shop, and I was under one of the cars we had in for repair. It wasn’t our bread and butter, the repair business out front of the MC, but it made us look semi-legitimate.

I felt a tapping on my boots, which were sticking out from underneath the car. “Bear needs you inside,” came a voice from above me. It was Moose, a probie who was doing all he could to learn the ropes.

The kid was probably sixteen and we were doing for him now what Bear had done for me a decade ago. Moose was a big boy, just like I’d been, and he needed a lot of structure. Bear and the MC provided that. We were wild and crashed into shit and each other on the regular. But the club rules kept us all together.

Growing up in the shop, I’d learned how to do just about everything you needed to do for a bike or car. I’d made myself useful. I guess I worried Bear would kick me out. He didn’t.

Instead, he brought me along. I learned everything I could from Bear and the crew, and I did anything they needed, just like Moose, and a few of our new probies were doing today.

Eventually, I moved from mechanic and errand boy to Bear’s Sergeant at Arms.

I learned the way of the club.

The club was in my blood and bone, and if Bear called for me, I was there.

I walked into the clubhouse and Bear was sitting with his old lady, Mama Bear.

“There he is. You ever going to shave that beard?” Mama Bear was just as tough as her husband. She had to be, in this place. And she was the only one with the stones to come up and tug on my beard. She had to do it on tiptoes, though, because at five-two she was over a foot shorter than me, and most of the club.

“Not in my current plan.” And I gave her a hug. If she ever objected to having troubled teenage boys running around, I never heard it. She had treated me like I was brothers with her brood and eventually it was true. Bear and Mama’s boy, Shep, would step in front a train for me and I would do the same for him.

“A shame. You used to be good looking. I’ll leave you to whatever he’s got cooking. It seems complicated.” Mama Bear stayed out of club business, except when she didn’t. She was also a combat nurse and that had come in handy for my brothers and me over the years.

“What do you have cooking?” I asked Mama Bear.

“Sloppy Joe, come back and grab some whenever.” When Mama Bear cooked, it was always in large quantities. She knew that we were always hungry. She walked back to the club’s kitchen and I heard her yell to another probie.

“Toby! I need help in here. Let’s go.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

“Sit.” Bear had ignored our greetings. He was deep in planning mode and didn’t have time for small talk. He never really did, which suited me fine. I hated it too.

Whether or not I had a beard or a meal were not his concern. He was gruff, intimidating, and in complete control of our club. I had watched him face down one member or another over club business, over personal conflicts, or how to handle every aspect of the MC. He didn’t always win, but he was never weak. Not for a second.

He had strong opinions about what was best for the club. We all did. But when things got hairy, he’d refer back to The Dark Saints Code. It was our Bible and our meetings were the only Church we needed.

Long term club policy was decided in Church. It didn’t have to be unanimous, but it did have to be a majority. After we had voted, Bear had a mandate. We trusted him to put in motion what the club wanted. It worked, even though E.Z., our Veep, and some of the younger members, fought over the details.

“So, here’s the plan. We’re going to let a heroin deal, or two, go down.”

“Shit, man, that’s going to really make whoever’s interested think they have an opening here in Port Az.” I hated the idea of giving even an inch to the scumbags that wanted into Port Az.

“That’s right. We don’t know who sent the two you ran off. We don’t know who popped those two junkies. And we need to. The only way to do that is to give them a little rope. You get it?”

“I get it. Let’s see if they’ll hang themselves.”

“They will. They think Port Az is a potential gold mine. Whoever’s decided to send guys this way will keep doing it. We’ll get the minnows and then bam. The big fish.” Bear slapped the bar top and a waitress at the end of it jumped.

“Sorry, sweetheart,” Bear chuckled.

“Where do you want me?”

“It’s going to happen in town. Bo’s working on getting more specific on a location. I just need you near the docks, your place, and with a phone charged. You have to be ready.”

“No problem.”

Bear grasped my hand with his, like we were going to arm wrestle. He had taken pride in being able to best me in arm wrestling, since the day he took me in. Then last year I beat him. It felt shitty, so I never did again. He was Bear and dammit he was larger than life to me, even if I now hulked over him.

I had my orders: go into town, be ready. That I could do.

I was restless and ready to be sure the MC’s plan worked. I’d have to wait until they had more particulars. I’d have to kill some time.

With time on my hand, my thoughts turned to Jen.

It bothered me that my little librarian had chosen to ignore my text the other night. But in the end, she was probably being smart.

She might like a ride on my bike for a day, but to take my shit on in a more permanent way? Any woman who did that had to be fucking crazy. Or be like Mama Bear. Mama Bear could handle us all at our worst. I smiled at the thought.

I sure as hell regretted not getting a chance to get closer to Jen and her yellow dress, but I got it. I liked her a little too much, which was why I think her giving me the brush off was probably the best for both of us.

No sooner had that thought crossed my mind than my phone buzzed.

“Got your text. I’m waiting.” It was Jen.

I had my orders from Bear. I was available whenever he needed me for this drug deal shit. There was no reason not to spend a little down time with the librarian.