Chapter Thirty-Six
Anyone Can Get It
Anthony
God, it felt good to be back with her.
I didn’t want to take my eye off her, but I knew she’d be safe with Daisy. If there was anyone that could keep the Steel Disciples at bay, it was Daisy. I don’t know what the deal was with her and Monty, no one did, but she had a hold on that man like no other.
I’m not so sure it was reciprocated, she shot him with the evil eye at every opportunity and wasn’t afraid to slap the spit out of him if he got close enough. Then again, that type of animosity usually spoke of history…
I pushed those thoughts aside and made my way to the bike.
I meant to speak to Mark and the guys, and I had to meet Crystal and the girls for lunch and the marriage license.
The clubhouse looked quiet from the outside.
Which was typical on a weekday, when it was otherwise known as Miller’s Trucking.
“Hey, Ant,” Sasha called, peeking up from behind her red hair, before she returned to the office ledger.
“How’s it going, Sash? Is Mark in yet?” I didn’t break my stride, I was only asking to make conversation.
“No, but Makaveli is in the conference room.”
“Good enough.” I smacked the wall on my way back, and Mak looked up from the map he was studying.
“I mean, it’s a nice profit, but it’s a lot of risk and we don’t currently have any other reason to run that route…
” He spoke into a phone and rubbed his temple with his free hand.
“I – You’re not hearing me. We don’t want your contract.
We don’t give a shit how much you’re offering. The answer is no.”
He hung up with a sigh that left no room for misinterpreting his mood.
“Why the fuck does he have me do this shit? He knows I don’t have the patience, and I’m gonna cuss…”
“That’s why he has you do it. He has no interest and wants them to understand. So, he has you say it in that polished way of yours. What? You don’t see him handing you the number of the flashy jobs to make courtesy calls, do you?”
Mak snorted and bugged his eyes. “You might be onto something.”
“Mak, who tore up my marriage license?” I used the same uninvested tone I’d been jesting with, but his hand stilled, and he sniffed before letting it drop to the chair.
“Does it fucking matter? She’s gone; you’re better off for it.”
I wasn’t a reactive person. To be fair, I barely had time to digest the words he flung from his mouth before my hand shot out for his jaw.
The chair flipped, but he caught himself and came right back at me.
We wrestled over the conference table trading blows and insults.
I was aware I was cursing at him, and loudly, but I had no idea what I was saying.
All the anger and disbelief were flooding out at once.
He caught my jaw with a vicious jab, and stars flooded my field of vision for a minute. He shoved me off balance, sending me backwards across the conference room floor.
“Motherfucker, I did. So what?” he roared, flinging a chair from between us. “I fucking ripped it up, after your brother kicked in the window.”
It’d been a long time since I felt honest betrayal. Truth be told, it stung more than his jab.
“You need to work on slapping someone beside your wife around, you hit like a bitch,” I told him as soon as I got to my feet.
Big Vick shot in between us and pushed Mak to the wall, not that it stopped him from swinging around him and screaming like a banshee.
I knew Vick would want to see me, but I was dying to get to give my brother a piece of my mind. I made it all the way to the bike, before I remembered he was in a military cage somewhere.
“Cocksucker,” I hoped his ears rang, as I stood beside my bike inwardly boiling.
“Anthony,” Mark called, from behind me.
I closed my eyes, clenched my jaw, but it didn’t do a goddamn thing to take the fire out of me.
“Knuckle up,” I warned him, just before I turned.
“What?” he mumbled, his hand hitching between us.
I wasn’t in the habit of warning folks twice. I swung like I meant to take the nose off his face. He moved, but not nearly fast enough. I caught his jaw and he buckled.
He was out cold.
I just knocked the president of the MC out. An original Steel Disciple. I imagined he’d be just as shocked as I was, when someone filled him in later. Not that I intended to stick around for that noise.
I fired up the bike just as Mak screeched from the clubhouse door, “What the fuck?”
I slung what rocks I could over him and his dad and let the engine scream my displeasure down the highway a bit.
I wasn’t a dumbass; they’d look for the bike all over town until they found me.
So, I eventually parked near the youth baseball diamond and cut through the streets on foot until I saw a sign on a door that read, opened.
The guy behind the counter looked up when the bell on the door announced my presence.
“Welcome to Antonio’s,” he called.
I glanced over my shoulder as a bike flew by and then another.
“Yeah, you, too.” I answered, not daring to give my back to the window. That Steel Disciples rocker was what they were looking for.
When I finally bumped into the counter and turned around, he was looking at me funny.
“That was a nice bike, did ya see it…?” I awkwardly mumbled.
“Yeah?” He looked up at the window and then back at me.
“Yeah. A it was a fatboy. Hey, let me get a flat crust supreme, would you?”
“You got it. What size?”
“Sm– Large,” I amended, when I remembered I was ordering for four this time.
I slid the phone from my pocket and hurriedly typed out a message to Daisy.