Chapter Twenty-Six
Steel Cages
Anthony
I dropped her off at her apartment, and since my phone was dead, I took hers and placed myself in her contact list.
“Where am I going to work?” she asked, taking the phone back, and absently dropping a hand to the wad of money in her pocket.
She kept clutching and checking it like she thought it was going to fall out.
“I told you, I own a club.”
“And you’re going to let me dance in it?”
“Who the fuck else is going to be my prized act?”
She smiled and glanced toward the back door that she preferred. Her roommate was standing with her arms crossed and a heavy scowl plastered on her face.
“Shit,” she whispered, “that’s Tindra…”
“Who?”
“The leaseholder. I should get going.”
“Yeah? Well, at least you won’t be coming home to that for much longer, hmm?” I smiled, and she shot to her tiptoes and kissed me before darting toward the building.
The woman had a face like a dragon. She did nothing to help Crystal get the door open. Once she managed, the woman’s face contorted and I could tell from a distance she was bitching.
“Jesus,” I mumbled, firing the bike up.
I hated leaving her like that, but I had a hard time wiping the victorious grin off my face as I pointed the bike toward home. It didn’t fade until I reached the club house. Bikes were lined up out front like something serious was going on.
I parked mine next to my brother’s and ignored the knot in my gut as I walked toward the front door.
The music greeted me even before I got the heavy door open.
“Better late than never, I guess,” Monty crowed, before drowning his laugh in a bottle.
Mak was sitting on a barstool, with his wife between his legs. They appeared to be on good terms today, considering the way she had her arms around his neck, and they were damn near nose to nose.
“What the fuck are we celebrating?” I grunted at C.C., when I noticed the girls dancing on the pool table.
“Your brother.” He saluted the conference room with his beer bottle, and I spotted Slutty Benji with his arm around my brother.
They made their way to the pool table, leaving Mark to take up their post against the conference room door.
Fuck.
The way he glared at me left no doubt, I had missed messages and more trouble coming.
“What in the hell is going on with you anyhow?” C.C. quietly asked.
I realized I was probably about to be laid up for a few days, so why not get started while I could?
“I need a house. You got any more properties?”
He laughed like I had told the best joke ever, “You ain’t did nothing but run down the one I gave you…”
I shook my head, “Nah, I’m fixing to open it up. I’m gonna call it Steel Cages. I’m thinking there should be cages around the outer two stages.”
He studied me like he wasn’t sure he believed me, “Yeah?”
“Yeah. I’m getting married. I need to clean shit up, get on my game.”
He grunted, and raised his bottle my way, “Congrats. Who the hell is she?”
I swear all the noise died down at once, or maybe it just felt that way because I could feel Mark’s gaze boring into me from across the room.
C.C. didn’t seem to notice as he stuffed a cigarette between his lips and fished in his pocket for a lighter.
“Her name is Crystal.” I glanced back toward my brother who had found his way to the bar, “What are we celebrating the asshat for?”
His hand stilled and his head snapped up. I could tell by the way he squinted at me that he was judging my seriousness again.
“Oh,” he awkwardly mumbled after a time. “Shit.”
“What?”
He cleared his throat and lit his cigarette like he hadn’t heard the question.
I started across the room, ignoring him, stepping around brothers, and shoving random chicks out of the way.
“What the fuck is going on?” I blurted out.
“With what?” He raised his brows and locked bloodshot eyes on me.
I wasn’t really all that disturbed by the sight of a fucked-up brother, but my blood brother was military. He had to go back, and he had to be able to piss clean when that day arrived.
“Wh–where is Oak? When do you guys go back?”
He shrugged, and swirled the bottle around on the countertop, “We go back in three days.”
I still didn’t see Oak, but I wasn’t all that worried about Eric’s partner in crime. “Yeah… what the fuck is everybody kissing your ass for? Why is there a party? What did you do?”
Eric laughed and raised his shoulders, “Slutty Benji said fuck invisible patches.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
Ol’ George slid him another beer and Easy swigged before shrugging again, “It means he made me start as a fucking prospect. He wanted Oak patched as one, too, but C.C. sent him on a mission.”
I gave a slow nod, knowing damn well why C.C. had. Oak’s mother would box, and he had to go home to her.
“What happens if you get caught with that patch while you’re still in uni–?”
“Not your concern, is it?” Easy spun in his seat and stood up, walking off before I could say another word.
“You done being his mother?” Mark piped up, not having moved from the doorway.
As soon as my gaze landed on him, I could tell he regretted his choice of words. He lifted his weight off the doorframe as I started toward him, “What the fuck did you just say?”
I didn’t see Vick, but that big bastard was between us in a flash.
Mark’s expression suddenly went blank and he held a hand out in front of him, “It was a term of expression, Ant. Calm down.”
“Why don’t you leave our mother out of shit. Matter of fact, if you want to worry about mothers, why don’t you worry about the mother of your children. How's that dentist drillin’ her these days anyhow?”
He threw a shot around Vick that missed by a mile, and the whole room went up. Makaveli shoved me, knocking me into the coffee bar. Several mugs flew off and shattered on the floor nearby.
Sasha’s high-pitched scream sent shock waves through my system as I grappled with her husband.
“Hey, you got a fuckin’ mouth on you, man. What the fuck is wrong with you?” Makaveli roared while slamming me into the wall.
“Enough!” Mark snapped, shooting into the conference room and slamming the door.
C.C. pulled Makaveli off of me and shoved him at Montana, who escorted him back to his wife.
“We ain’t got time for this. We’re riding in ten minutes,” C.C. called over the masses, before popping me on the shoulder, “Get on your bike, man. Fuck.”
I didn’t even ask where we were riding. I marched outside, grateful for the fresh air and lack of tension. I expected everyone to follow us out, but only Montana and C.C. emerged from the clubhouse.
“Where are we headed?”
“Going to visit a brother, he’ll give us an address, and we’ll pick up a package,” Montana explained, in that broken way that said he was concentrating on something else.
I looked over and found him digging in his saddlebag. He took out a forty-five, loaded it and held it out in offering.
I hesitated briefly, before accepting it. “I thought you said it was a visit, I can’t walk into a correctional institute with that motherfucker or they’ll be making room for me, too.”
“You’re just standing guard at the highway; make sure we don’t get company at the prison.”
I blinked and tried to conjure a mental image in which that actually played out right, but I couldn’t.
“Right, and… I’m supposed to what? Light someone up in front of the guard towers and a thousand inmates if they look sketchy?”
“No. There is a college campus next to the Centralia prison. You’re gonna sit pretty right there and watch the highway.” Montana fired up his bike, and walked it back, leaving me to stare.
“I hear they just took up a prospect, you know?” I pointed out, feeling slightly put off by the assignment.
I was supposed to sit in a college parking lot and twiddle my thumbs with a pistol? That didn’t even sound like a decent idea. Suppose they had security, or nosy-ass college kids?
C.C. fired up his bike without further conversation, leaving me with little choice but to follow.