Chapter Five
That last day at the clubhouse fucking sucked.
When Reacher called me up, and I stood up, knowing I was about to out myself as mafia, and lose this camaraderie I’d found, this fucking brotherhood that felt so right, where I was starting to realise my normal life had always been a little too tight…
yeah, it was so hard to not just smirk and deny the whole thing.
Those words ‘Grease, stand up’ were the start of the fucking end. I literally felt like I was losing everything, but I had to man up, right? Be the fucking mafia soldier I’d been raised to be.
I forced a grin, and stood up, smoothing my signature quiff and leaning against the chair. I wished we could put this off, or do it another day, like never, but it was happening, and I had to go with it.
“Why don’t you introduce yourself properly, brother?”
With a thud of my heart, I flicked a quick salute at my Pres, my former fucking President, and straightened up, forcing myself back into the stiffened posture of my mafia shackled life.
I was starting to realise that this foray into another world had cemented my dissatisfaction with my lot in life, so going back was going to be harder than anything I’d done before.
I swallowed down all of the regret I was feeling, and did what Reacher had requested. See, he requested, rather than commanding.
“My real name is Tesio Agosti, and I work for Don Rossi.”
The room filled with noise as people started reacting to my revelation, speaking over each other, and making their displeasure known.
Hell, I was right there with them. I didn’t want to return to being Tesio fucking Agosti.
I was Grease now, but then maybe I always had been.
Maybe that’s why my suits had never really fit me.
When Stitch declared that they’d miss me, I don’t think he realised just how fucking heartfelt my response was.
“Honestly, I’m gonna fucking miss this too. Mafia life is so fucking stuffy, but you guys relax and kick back, and just live. I enjoyed just living for a while.” It wasn’t long enough, that was the problem.
“You could always go prospect,” Torch suggested, smirking at me like it was even my decision. Like I got to make those kinds of choices for my life. I forced another grin, like my world wasn’t ending.
“Yeah, not really down for taking on a year of toilet duty or whatever, but thanks.”
From there, they held discussions about old lady rituals and shit, and I just stood there and let the craziness wash over me, while I lamented the fact that I wouldn’t even be here to see their old ladies getting inked.
I shoulda had the fucking Phoenix MC ink, so I could remember this short phase of my life where I finally fit into the role I was playing, hell, not even feeling like I was playing a part at all. It was real, but it was over.
I smirked, imagining the reactions of my mafia kin, if they saw a fucking biker tat on me.
Jesus, they’d probably kill me for it, and you know what?
For a minute, I was doubly fucking gutted that I didn’t do it.
Returning to the mafia would be like a slow death for me.
I already felt half suffocated, and I wasn’t even back there yet.
The room cleared out, with various guys slapping my back, or flipping me off, depending on their perspective, and then it was just me, Reacher, and Stitch.
“Honestly, Tesio, thank you for everything you did. You were a godsend,” Stitch said, leaning both hands on the table as he focused on me. Reacher was still sitting, but he was ever watchful.
“Fuck me,” I cleared my throat, “you’d think I’d been here for years, because this feels like leaving my home.” Jesus, I just fucking said that, didn’t I? What a pussy.
Reacher offered me a half smile.
“Honestly, son, you fit in here like you’d always been one of us. It’s gonna be weird as fuck with you gone. We’re losing two brothers at once here.”
“Micro is no fucking brother of mine,” Stitch hissed, but he dropped heavily back into his seat, “but yeah, not saying I’m attached to ya, man, but you’ll be missed.”
Fuck me, don’t make it harder than it already is. I dragged a hand through my slicked hair, disassembling the carefully constructed quiff, and sighing morosely.
“Guess it’s back to my old life now. Listen, though, this has been, well, I dunno. It’s been like living, and I guess that was a first for me. Kinda wish I didn’t have to leave, but that’s life, I guess.”
“Always willing to prospect you in, man, you only have to ask.”
I laughed as Reacher stood up, grasping my shoulder in a firm grip.
“I’m serious. You’ll always have a home with us, no matter what. I know it’s not the life you were born to, but maybe it’s the one you’re meant for.” I clenched my fists as my phone buzzed in my pocket, and I knew, without even looking, that my time had just run out.
“Guess we don’t always get what we want, huh, Pres? Thanks. Both of you. I’ll never forget this time here. Feels like a holiday, but it’s over and I’d better get back. The boss is already chasing me.”
The suit felt wrong, as did my fucking haircut, I missed my ride, and even my room felt wrong.
We’d perfected my fucking ride; me, Rocket, and Has.
Now she was just languishing in storage, and nothing here was me anymore, if it ever had been.
I looked like a fucking mafia asshole again now, and as I strode to the Don’s office, as ‘requested’, I couldn’t help but resent every fucking inch of this place.
I knocked briskly on his door, and stepped inside on his barked command.
“Ah, Tesio. Back at last, I see.” He gestured to the chairs in front of his desk, and I took the not so subtle hint, dropping into the chair, before I realised I’d dropped my stiff mafia posture already. Fuck. I sat up straighter, and rested my hands on the arms of the chair.
“You look different,” Don Rossi said quietly, casting his eyes over me, while I wondered what the fuck he was seeing, when I’d just put my fucking mask back on. For him.
“Probably just missed my fine ass, bossman.”
His eyebrow raised, while I asked myself inwardly what the fuck I was doing. If I started like that, it was going to get worse, I could already feel the resentment bubbling up in me, as I tried to curb the mouthy side of myself I’d found at the club.
I lowered my eyes and took a breath.
“Sorry, boss, still working on shedding my biker persona, I think.”
Don Rossi glanced at the file in front of him, resting one palm on it.
“You have a new priority to work on, but first, I want updates. I know the culprit’s identity was uncovered, and he’s in the wind. How did that happen?” What, like it’s my fucking fault somehow?
“I was here with you, boss, he went missing on their dime, not mine.”
I didn’t even wait for the eyebrow this time, before I leapt ahead and dug the hole a little deeper.
“You pulled me away at the crucial fucking moment, and I missed all the fun.”
Don Rossi stared back at me, waiting for me to apologise for my words, but I hesitated, because I was so fucking fed up with this life already, and I’d been back a fucking hour. Why the hell did I have to pander to him, and act like a spanked kid if I dared to speak my mind?
“I’m just saying you sent me there for a purpose, and then I missed the actual moment when the big reveal happened. It’s like jerking off and never getting to finish.”
Don Rossi snorted, and that turned to a chuckle, and that, believe it or not, turned into a fucking belly laugh, and here I thought I was about to eat a bullet. Maybe that had already happened, and this was my coma dream.
“Sir?”
He waved a hand at me, taking a moment to catch his breath again.
“You know, that’s the first time, since you were a boy, that you’ve ever let out any of your character around me. You’re always so well behaved, son, I was beginning to think there was nobody in there fighting to get out.”
What the hell.
“You mean you’re not gonna shoot me for that?” He laughed again, and what is this, a fucking parallel universe or what?
“The time to worry is when it doesn’t make me laugh.” Oh yeah, there it is. I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, only it didn’t really, did it?
“I know for some of you, this life of ours feels constricting and cloistered, to some degree, but it’s a serious business, and needs all of our focus to stay alive. That doesn’t mean I don’t enjoy a chuckle now and then, when the time is right.”
I swallowed hard, resting a hand on my jiggling knee.
“And the time was right just then?” He nodded at me, the humour dropping from his lined face.
“And now the moment is over.”
Jamie
Atwo week suspension was just what I didn’t need, but apparently one too many references to my behaviour lately had led to mandatory counselling, and suspension.
Most people would love a break from work, right?
So they can indulge in all the things they love to do, that get set aside so they can meet the demands of their day job.
What if that person has nothing they enjoy outside of work?
What if that person has nothing to occupy their time, except to stew over having, you know, nothing to fucking do?
The only friends I had around here were not even really friends, but work colleagues.
You know, at that place I wasn’t allowed to go near, except for my counselling sessions.
You know what it gave me time to do though?
Look into the Rogue Riders, and that’s exactly what I did.
I found out where their clubhouse or compound, or whatever the hell it was called, was located, and I spent the two weeks monitoring it from a safe distance, tracking bikes in and out of the place.
Near the end of those two weeks, what I noticed was more frenetic activity, and the appearance of bikers who were unfamiliar, having catalogued as many as I could from photographs, and my copious notes that were nothing but surface data.
Some of the new bikers wore leathers that had a different patch on it.
Phoenix MC. I had no idea who they were, but it seemed they weren’t a local club, so I had no idea what their business was here.
Were they friendly clubs? What I’d found from my research was that clubs were often just the opposite, seeing each other as threats or opposition, especially if they were carrying out illegal activities to raise money.
I was pretty sure there was drug running going on from this club, but proving it would be difficult.
I even suspected they had illegal firearms, but again, proving that without gaining access, and carrying out searches, would be damn near impossible.
I spent maybe half a day plotting to go in undercover, if I could figure out how to do it, and actually get away with it.
It seemed that the only time women went in there was either as one night entertainment, or with other clubs at least, if they married them in the club style, they became ‘old ladies’.
It was all very strange, but I couldn’t see myself getting in that way, because there was no way I was letting some filthy biker paw at me, just so I could get a look around.
There had to be a way to find out more, from actually inside the club, but I had no ideas, and right now I had no power to do anything, because I was on leave.
As soon as I was back though, I was making a move on the Rogue Riders, and I’d get to the bottom of all their criminal activity, because I knew it was there.
I knew they were up to no good. There was no way they weren’t.
Evers had as much as admitted that it was a well-known fact, but even the police were too afraid of messing with them.
Not me though. They might not have the balls for it, but I’d show them it didn’t take balls.
It took a strong woman, and a fucking desire to actually put the bad guys away.