Chapter Thirty-Six
Blaze
“Did your dad calm down any?” I asked May once we were alone under the canopied entrance of the clubhouse.
He snorted in a long, drawn-out way rather than answering.
“That bad–”
“He’s lost his fucking mind. He thought we were going to move to the sticks.”
“Georgia,” I corrected him.
“Yeah, that’s what I said. Can you fuckin’ imagine me– In fucking Georgia?” He flubbed his lips. “Them people probably still put folks in jail for jaywalking. My mom said you can’t even possess no smoke down there. Can you believe that shit?”
I had to laugh recalling Trista’s outburst over her weed. She’d been so serious!
“You speak about it, like it’s fuckin’ crack or something. Weed ain’t that serious.”
“Ha!” he exclaimed, “You go tell her that, I’ll wait. My mom lives on weed. She has since before I was born on account of her PTSD and all that.”
I nodded, having figured out that much about her.
“Nothing wrong with it, but surely, they can give her some Xanax or something. She’d be alright.”
The sordid laughter that bubbled and brewed in his throat, lit up his eyes, “Yeah, they ain’t so free in passing that shit out. Everyone is looked at like a fuckin’ drug seeker these days. My mom suffered bad for a long time, man. I remember when I was little, and she had her spells. My dad would lose his job and shit, staying home to take care of her. Now she smokes and the world is a better place. She functions. She doesn’t fall apart at the grocery store, ya dig?”
“I’m glad she had Easy, you know? He gets her.”
“He does. My dad was in the war when he was young.”
“Yeah– The Valentino shit.”
“Nah,” May shook his head, “I mean the real war. Afghanistan. Fallujah.”
“Oh.” I squinted, and slowly nodded, “I vaguely remember him in military uniform– Maybe…”
He gave a grunt of understanding.
The gravel crunched in the distance, and we looked up to see his dad rolling across the lot. Easy parked the bike and slid off like a rock star. He removed his glasses as he crossed toward us and paused a few feet away.
Our eyes locked and my mouth went dry. I couldn’t read him, and I really, really didn’t want Easy upset with me.
He nodded without so much as a greeting and placed a hand on my shoulder before jerking the door open.
“Easy,” I whispered, but he was gone.
“He ain’t mad,” May predicted.
The noise inside died down a little. I cracked the door open and realized the bar area had cleared out. I could see movement behind the blinds in the back office where it seemed they were all gathered.
May fooled on his phone and I leaned against the wall for the next thirty minutes. As quickly as it had quieted, the noise level dramatically rose and they all started to trickle out in a big crowd. One by one, the bikes cleared out until only Mak and Easy’s were left.
“Safe to go in?” I asked May.
His head jerked up and he surveyed the lot, “Probably.”
I pushed the door open and made my way down the length of the bar. Easy and Mak came out of the office one after the other. They didn’t notice me right away because they were talking amongst themselves. When they did, they both started my way.
“Congrats,” Easy spoke up, looking directly at me.
“Yeah.” I nodded, thinking he meant the wedding.
I glanced down at my ringless finger and decided I should probably do something about that.
“Not even twenty-five and already buying your way into your first business.” He whistled.
“Oh, that.” I nodded.
He laughed, “Yeah, that. It’s Mak’s baby. I can’t believe he agreed to split it with you.”
He looked back at Mak who saluted him with his chin.
“It’s his fuckin’ birthright. If something happened to me, I’d hope one of you bastards would look out for mine.”
“Goes without saying,” Easy told him.
“You ready, partner?” Mak asked, giving me a thorough once over.
“I don’t know, am I up to the dress code?” I teased, having never been looked over by another dude that closely.
Easy laughed and shook his head, “I need to find Trista, I’ll catch up with you fuckers later.”
We followed him out and Mak waved at the bikes, “We can ride them over, so we don’t have to walk back.”
I glanced across the parking lot, it was the size of a football field, but it wasn’t that far.
“O-kay.”
“I’m old and grumpy, don’t fuck with me, Blaze. I’ll forget you make my daughter smile and leave you crying with your dick in the dirt.”
I snorted and fired up my bike, slowly rolling across the gravel to park in front of the strip club beside him. He had a funny walk about him for such a little guy. Mak walked with his arms out, taking up as much room as he possibly could without looking dramatic about it. He plucked the front door open like he was mad at it and waved all extravagant like.
I walked in and smiled at the gal behind the hostess counter. It was the same one that had been there the night of my arrest.
“Blaze, this is Sonya. Sonya handles the door and the payroll for the girls,” Mak rattled before walking past the woman. I followed him down a ramp that led into the showroom, or whatever they called it.
An extended bar lined the wall and there were tables with long, black cloths draped over them sprinkled about the room. Three stages decorated the front of the club, and a DJ booth was rigged near the bar.
It was just now getting to be dinner time, so the place was relatively empty. A few older dudes were sitting in the shadows watching a girl strut in a circle around the pole. She looked like she was conflicted between wanting to cover her chest and thrusting her hip out at each turn in a way that demanded notice.
“Heather. She’s new. Still kind of bashful. The shy ones, the new ones, the ones that don’t command attention so well, they go on the dayshift schedule. Money makers are put on the stage at night. The really good ones are saved for Friday and Saturday evenings,” Mak rattled matter-of-factly.
“Makes sense,” I mused.
He gave me a slow tour of the showroom, the champagne room, and then we ended up in a large office that had no windows, and a whole lot of nasty artwork on the walls.
“Is that Marilyn?” I asked, staring at a sprawled-out redhead in an expensive frame. She was stretched longways without a stitch. You really couldn’t see anything but the shape of her ass and the side of her tit, but it was nice and definitely looked like the famous icon.
“Fuckin’ right it is. Your father paid a thousand dollars for that thing at an auction. It’s an original, taken before she started in with all that blonde hair dye and the look that made her famous.”
“That’s awesome.” I stood there admiring it for a minute.
“What are you carrying?”
“Huh?” I looked over my shoulder and his eyes snapped toward mine.
“Do you have a gun?” He spoke slowly, keeping his voice down.
“Yeah– back at the house.”
“At the…” He trailed off glancing abruptly at the door and then back to me before shaking his head. “You fuckin’ kids, man, I swear.”
Mak slid the desk drawer open and raised the lid on an unclasped safe. He took out a forty-five and started to hand it over. When I reached, he jerked it back and eyed me while popping out the giant cartridge cage and then slamming it back in.
I laughed, “You think Oak raised me and I don’t know how to take that thing apart and put it back together.”
He grunted, clearly pleased with my response, and handed the gun over.
“Don’t be leavin’ home without that thing, alright?”
I nodded and reached behind me, lifting the kutte a little so I could shove the pistol into the back of my pants.
“Good. Listen, you need to learn the clientele, memorize the faces. You’ll start to get the hang of shit after a while, don’t do nothing without me for a few weeks. They’ll try you. It’s just business.”
“Try me– Do I look like I have tits? If one of those balding assholes gets handsy with me–”
Makaveli roared with laughter.
“You stupid fuck, I swear to God.” He flopped down in the chair and stared at me like he was trying to determine if I was serious before his snorting started up and he was fighting laughter again.
“Jesus Christ.” He huffed, pulling himself together. “Fucking handsy– If any of those bastards gets handsy with you, Blaze, shoot them. I ain’t in the business of reach arounds. They can buy blow, they can sample ass, and they can get the fuck on– Not my ass, their ass-” He hefted a thumb toward the showroom.
“B-buy blow and sample ass…” I nodded like I understood, but my tone carried the question.
Mak stared at me; the humor gone in a flash.
“Listen– Your mom is a fed, alright… don’t ever give me cause to think you’re afraid to get your hands dirty for this club and your family, or I’ll start thinking you are, too.”
“I’m not a cop,” I scoffed.
“Yeah?” He drew the word out like he wasn’t sure, “Why not?”
“What?”
“Why not? You went to school, right? Why didn’t you do that? She could have easily gotten you a job, put in a word.”
I raised a shoulder, “Why don’t your daughter sell ass?”
“Mother fucker!” he spat, shooting out of that chair so fast, I instinctively backpedaled.
“I’m just saying–” I waved, “You do—”
“We’re both armed, smart ass. I kill ya and it’ll be a fair fight by some standards. Watch your fuckin’ mouth where Marchella is concerned.”
It was my turn to choke on a bit of held back laughter, “I’m just sayin–”
“You ain’t saying shit,” he spoke up, clearly used to having the last word.
“Not everyone takes the path of their parents,” I finished.
His eyes softened, but he still stared at me like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to choke me out or not for several moments before he huffed and smiled.
“Your dad used to like to get me worked up, too. That mother fucker loved to light my fuse, sometimes I think he did it just so he wouldn’t look like the bad guy when he got to jump in and help.”
I smiled.
“He was good at putting the cables on people, getting them to react and do what he wanted without them realizing he was doing it. He was smart, like you.”
“What makes you think I’m smart? I thought you were convinced I was just a dumbass with a loudmouth.”
“Two things can be possible at once, Blaze. It’s a fact of life, my man.”
“Fuck you,” I laughed, earning a smile from him.
“Ah, fuck. These bastards will be here in a minute. Listen, don’t stand on the wall– Come here.” He motioned for me to move closer to the desk and gave a wild look around. There were two chairs opposite the desk, but he didn’t look interested in them.
“Can you really take that thing apart and put it back together?” he asked after a moment.
“Yeah,” I clipped, without a second thought.
“What abou–”
I reached out and opened and closed my hand, inviting him to place something in it. He handed me a beretta and nodded to the edge of the desk.
“Perch, put the forty-five on the table where you can get to it easily, and work on that thing.” He set the oil out on his desk.
“Am I gonna need it?” I had to push the question out. I was suddenly afraid to ask, and not sure I’d believe him if he answered.
“Never know,” he mumbled, opening up a ledger. “That’s why you don’t leave home without it.”
“Can I ask who we’re expecting?”
“Nick Halstaff with the Rabid Monkeys, Ti–”
“I’m sorry did you just say Rabid Monkeys,” I interrupted him, even if I knew he hated it.
His eyes tightened, but he snorted with amusement rather than bitching, “Yeah, they get pissed when Easy calls them that, so we make sure it sticks. Their patch says Red Monks, they push the red phosphorus shit that keeps the city hoppin’ all night.”
“What red phos–?”
“Oh, Jesus Fuck,” Mak hissed, wiping his face with his hand.
“Blaze— My man,” He groaned, not opening his eyes.
I didn’t really understand his lack of patience, but I pieced together the last part of what he said and asked, “Are you talking about meth?”
“Yes.” He nodded slow and hard, pinning his lips into a thin line. “Now can you never say that word in this establishment again? Thank you.”
“What word? Me–”
“Blaze,” he snapped, like I was playing with a bomb.
“Yeah- Got it, don’t say–”
He punched me in the side of my ass so hard I slid a little.
“Godda–” I laughed, holding my thigh.
“I told you, don’t fuck with me. I ain’t goin’ down for their shit. That is all their shit. We do not–” He pumped the air with his hands like he was trying to push the unmentionable drug away.
“You act like there are levels to this shit.” I couldn’t keep the amusement from my tone.
“There are levels to the dope game, Blaze. To think otherwise is to be naive. Do you think the court will set you down the same amount of time for weed as they will coke?”
I shrugged.
“They won't.”
“Marijuana is legal in Illinois.”
“Yeah, when it comes from a dispensary.” He clarified.
“And how the fuck would they know if it came from a dispensary or not?”
“Because it comes in pretty little jars that probably cost more than the product, and they won’t sell you more than two ounces at a time, I will.”
I laughed and shook my head.
“So, they will arrest people for weed here?” I asked, after a minute.
“They will if you’re transporting and selling the shit, fuck yeah!” he exclaimed. “And don’t let them catch you with pills. Goddamn, I’ve heard of cases where they brought a charge for each pill sold. Don’t fuck with them people like that.”
“No transporting more than two ounces of weed, and don’t sell pills. Got it.” I nodded, having had no intention of ever doing, either.
“Right, and if you get rolled up on, swallow the coke and hope that shit is bagged right.”
“Swallow the–? What the fuck–? Won’t that make you have a heart attack or some shit?”
“It can,” He raised one shoulder lazily and looked up at me. “Guess it’s a matter of do you want a case or an ambulance ride? They won’t take you to court for an ambulance ride, those usually get sympathy.”
I couldn’t keep the expression from falling from my face.
“I ain’t swallowing coke.”
“Good. Not something I’d recommend, that heart racing and sweating shit is for the birds.”
“Jesus, you’ve done it before?”
“Buddy, there ain’t much I won’t swallow if they’re gonna make a case out of it.”
I grinned and for a minute I thought he was going to come out of his chair again.
“Fuck you,” he scoffed, just as a knock sounded at the door.
“Mak, I took Nick to the champagne room.” Sonya quietly bade from beyond the door.
“Good. Let him ferment for a few and then bring him back,” Mak responded.
He poured himself a drink and sipped.
“So– you don’t talk about it, you just– what– buy it off this Nick?”
“Huh?”
“The shit–”
“No, I don’t buy it. The fuck? He buys blow off us. Guess he figures if he has a little to offer it cuts back on his competition, I don’t know? What do you care?”
“I don’t.” That was for damn sure.
I was convinced someone would burst in the door at any minute, or that maybe it was some kind of prank my mother had put him up to in order to scare me off. Five minutes later, Sonya knocked on the door and quietly cracked it a bit.
She locked eyes with Mak who gave her a nod and then the door opened fully, and she stepped inside to hold it wide for the guests. Two men entered and made their way to the chairs.
“Mak,” one of them greeted, extending his arm past me to shake with Makaveli.
When he finished, the guy glanced at me like I was taking up too much of his air.
“The fuck, you want a kiss?” I blurted out.
Mak laughed so hard he snorted, but the other man didn’t. He smiled in an odd way and glanced from me to Mak, and back again.
“This is my new business partner, Blaze. He’s going to be running shit while I’m in.”
“‘In– What the fuck are you talking about? They knocked you off again?”
“No. My son got into a scuffle at one of the parties. By the time it was over everyone was locked up. They got me with a pistol.”
“Fuckin’ hell, man.” The guy shook his head, forgetting about our pissing match.
“Blaze, this is Nick, he’s the VP of the Red Monks.” He shut up long enough to take a swig of his whiskey.
“Yeah, I’ve heard of the Rabid Monkeys,” I clipped, with all the boredom I could muster.
Mak coughed, spraying the edge of the desk with dark liquor.
“What the fuck did you just say to me?” Nick asked, leaning toward me.
He changed paths, halfway there and turned his head to confront Makaveli, “Where is that scrawny, little wise ass, hm? He thinks he’s cute having this kid come in here and mouth me like this?”
I slid off the desk the minute he puffed up, and by the time he faced me again, we were chest to chest. I towered over him by at least four inches.
He stepped back when he realized it, but I kept pace with him, causing the other man to rise out of the chair he’d planted himself in when the show began.
“That scrawny fuck is my uncle, try to keep up and prove that snortin’ the Drano hasn’t depleted the last of your braincells. Now, I said I don’t like your tone, and I really don’t like the way you've been eye fuckin’ me, Sugar. So, unless you want to go back to pushing that off-red dog shit that you hillbilly bastards call phosphorous, I’d suggest you sit down and shut the fuck up.”
I thought for sure Mak was going to grab me by the scruff of the neck, but he didn’t. Nick looked at his friend, and they begrudgingly sat down, so I did, too.
“Okay, about them five G’s,” Mak cleared his throat.
For a minute I thought he was referring to five grams of drugs. Did we really have two backwater dope cooks sitting in the office over five grams of blow? I didn’t know what cocaine was worth, so I really couldn’t say if that was sufficient reason to have sullied our evening or not and opted to stay quiet for a minute.
I idly picked up the forty-five just to be sure the safety was off.
“It’s coming, Mak. My middleman got pinched but I’m gonna recoup the–” Nick excitedly rambled.
“Get the fuck out,” Mak cut him off, and didn’t repeat himself, I heard him cock his gun and I shot off the desk and raised mine, aiming it at Nick on instinct alone.
Mak became the voice of God in that moment, booming with rage, “I fuckin’ told you Rabid bastards not to be using middlemen, didn’t I?”
“Mak, it was my fuckin’ cousin’s step–”
“Yeah, what’s his name?” Mak rounded the desk and put his gun to the other man’s head.
“Nick,” His associate’s voice climbed and thinned with panic.
“Mak, calm the fuck down, alright? Look he ain’t no fuckin’ snitch alright?” Nick panicked.
Mak jerked his gun away from his hostage's head and shot Nick in the left foot. The bang sent my heart off at a full gallop. I could hear my pulse in my ears, but it wasn’t enough to drown out Makaveli’s yelling.
“Mother fucker, I said get! You best haul your ass.” He re-cocked his weapon.
The poor man was half sprawled over his flipped chair and scrambling to get to his feet. He managed to turn, and got two steps in, but when he reached for the door handle, Mak shot him in the ankle, and he collapsed against it with a scream.
His associate shot toward the wall and started hugging it on his way toward the door, “Please, I don’t have nothing to do with this. I— I—”
His stammering snapped me out of it, and I chambered my round.
“Jesus Christ!” he howled and darted toward the door. Nick has barely managed to get it open, but the dude hit him in the face with it, sending him sprawling to the floor where he lay unconscious. His partner was gone, the dude didn’t even look back.
Sonya never left the hostess booth, though she did peek our way when it all seemed to have calmed down.
“Again?” She sighed.
Makaveli stepped out and made a wet smacking sound with his mouth before shrugging, “Fucking tweakers, man, call the ambulance. You saw he was attacked, and that bastard ran after shooting him.”
“I always do,” Sonya groaned, snatching the phone off the wall. “Do I need to–?”
Mak held up two fingers and nodded, earning another groan and an eye roll from Sonya.
She placed her call and then hurried into the office where she promptly surveyed the floor on her hands and knees. She came out and dropped something in Mak’s hands, before glancing at the surveillance camera.
“They’re here,” she announced.
“We’re not.” Mak jerked his head, urging me to come on and took off across the showroom floor in a jog.
I hadn't realized the place was shut down for the meeting, until I followed him in. The stage was empty, and the tables were freshly waiting on an audience. We dipped out a side door and slowly crept behind a couple of semi-trucks that were parked on the edge of the lot, coming out right along the Steel Disciples clubhouse.
“What if they tell the court that I ain’t at work?”
“You’re on lunch.” he informed me. “Fucking clock out next time or someone might write you up.”
I narrowed my gaze at him, and he snorted.