Bonemangler

Abraham

The lie felt strange on my teeth. Like drinking coffee with motor oil in it.

There was a deafening squeal as Fizz turned his hearing aid up all the way.

“What the hell did he just say?” Fizz squawked. “I know I didn’t just hear that.”

There was silence for a minute and I realized the rest of the Legends MC were glaring at me.

“I know you’re the boss,” Mac said, pushing away from the table. “But that’s bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit,” I said. “Deal the cards.”

But it sounded weak to my ears.

Unc and Vladdy were staring, and Vladdy dropped his cards onto the table.

“I’m out.”

“You lost your goddamn mind?” Uncle put in. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Why would you say that about Polly?”

Grease was smirking at me.

“Not like you to keep a woman to yourself anyways. Why don’t you let that fat pussy out so I can get in there and fuck it out, really cream that old ass with both our jizz.”

“Too far,” I snarled. “She’s not here for randoms to fuck.”

“I’m not a random, I’m your goddamn brother.”

He stuck out his tongue, mimicking grabbing Polly’s ass and guzzling up her asshole.

“Come on, bro. I want to see if I can ruin her there.”

“Hell no!”

Grease tried to block it, but my fist landed on his face and I didn’t stop with one blow, kicking his chair away as I stomped down on his ribs as they broke with a splintering crack.

Blind red rage filled my vision and it wasn’t until Fizz roared deafeningly in my ear that I was knocked out of it.

“You planning to kill him, boss? No skin off my nose either way, but you’re going in that direction.”

Reluctantly, I pulled off my brother’s battered face, then took Grease by the throat and dragged him out the door. That scarlet fury still pulsing at the corners of my vision, I threw him down the road.

He was wheezing, clutching his ribs.

“Fuck bro. Damn. I didn’t think you’d ever choose some bitch over your own brother.”

“Get the hell out of here!”

“I’ll be back,” Grease gasped. “You can’t run a MC pussy-whipped.”

“I’ll fuck you up worse if I see your face again,” I warned, and then Vladdy was there, kicking Grease forward onto the gravel and following him down the drive.

Fuck, my lower back was twinging now. I wasn’t as young as I used to be, but I was plenty young enough to kick my brother’s ass.

As I straightened up carefully, I glanced down the road.

There was a prickling on the back of my neck.

Something wasn’t right.

What was it?

Everything looked to be in order, all the trucks in a neat line.

But wait, where was Polly’s old beater I’d been working on? That I told her never to drive or I was going to spank her ass red?

It wasn’t there.

Now why would Polly be leaving the house without telling me? And not in the truck? She’d been craving some fries and ice cream maybe. Or she needed a run on crafting supplies.

Or. . .

Not caring about the cramp in my back now, I turned and strode back into the clubhouse.

“Polly?” I growled out. “Polly?”

Now, she couldn’t have heard what I’d said. She said she was going to our room.

But the whole clubhouse felt different. Wrong.

There was no response. I called again.

Maybe she was in the shower, maybe she had her headphones in, maybe she was playing a game with me. . .

But when I burst into the bedroom, the first thing I saw was the quilt she’d made for me lying in shredded up piles on the ground.

I stood very still, not even hearing the noise of my club brothers.

It was like getting dunked in a tub of ice water.

I saw it pretty damn clearly now, the way every inch of my skin seemed to tighten with the wrongness of it all.

I had fucked up

Polly belonged here. With me.

In retrospect, that was embarrassingly obvious.

And she’d clearly heard what I’d said about her to Grease. And left.

How could I have been such a bastard?

What the hell was the point of living without Polly? There was no point at all.

The rest of Legends MC were suddenly explosively loud in my ear.

“Where is Polly?”

“What did you do?”

“You fucking moron. You blithering imbecile.”

I was hearing disrespectful shit Fizz wouldn’t have dared to say to me ten minutes ago, but at this point I didn’t care.

“Shut up, you idiots! We have to find her.”

“How?”

“Well, where would she go?”

“Christ, I don’t know!”

“Asshole!” Fizz roared at full volume.

“Turn down your hearing aid!” I snapped at him.

“I’m going to go look for her. Let’s spread out. Split up the city.”

“Boss—you don’t even know where—”

But I was gone, moving faster than I could ever remember before, gripping the bars of my bike and gunning the throttle.

Surely she couldn’t have gone far. . .

I fucking loathed myself that the first place I went was to her douchebag ex’s house.

If she had gone to Perry’s because of something I’d said, I should hang up my cut in shame because I was no kind of man.

But her car wasn’t there.

Nor in any of the other streets I rode down. Nor down any of the country roads. And I knew my territory damn well.

What if that goddamn clunker had broken down somewhere and Polly was lying injured in a ditch?

I couldn’t stop, scanning every wooded roadside, every ditch, going down every side road.

What had happened to her?

Every so often I’d see Legends MC riding, covering every street and cross-street.

But hours later, there was still no sign of her.

And I had to face the facts.

I had no idea how to find Polly quickly.

And I needed to find her quickly.

My back was aching and I’d gone so long without eating that I was feeling dizzy and nauseated, but I ignored it to traverse the main streets of the city one more time, scanning the coffee shops and stores. What if she was sitting in one of them all sniffling because she thought I was angry at her?

My hands were shaking with low blood sugar by the time I finally pulled into the Shop.

I needed to eat but it felt like anything I choked down was coming back up.

“Any sign of her?” Uncle asked.

“No.”

Fizz had just come back himself, and he snapped open a cold beer.

“Prez, you know a woman like that could be snapped up by any MC. Don’t make many women like that anymore.”

Irritation stabbed my gut. Was I getting an ulcer?

“I don’t think Polly is going to go work for another MC.”

But I knew that. Not only did they never make women like her anymore, but there was no one like her.

I went inside and began to call all the hospitals in the area.

Had a woman come in—curly brown hair—glasses—pretty face—42 years old—prettiest girl in the world?

But no, no one of Polly’s description had come in or been brought it.

My chest rose and fell, and I kicked the wall of the clubhouse as hard as I could with my boot.

“Where the fuck did she go?” I roared.

I forced some jerky down and tried to think.

I might need—something I disliked. Technology.

A few minutes later, we all stared at the ancient computer in the office.

“Mac, you’re the youngest one.”

“Shit, boss, I don’t know anything about computers. All I do is check where to find parts with this one.”

Pecking with two fingers, I put POLLY PEPPER into the search bar.

There were a lot of Polly Peppers around, but none of them were Polly.

“What’s her aunt’s name?” I asked Fizz.

“She told me to call her BonBon,” Fizz said. “Wouldn’t tell me her last name. But I like a woman with a little mystery to her.”

Well, fuck.

Still I searched the computer late into the night, and when I couldn’t sleep, I went back on my bike and rode further this time, all the way to the edge of my territory.

I could go past the boundary, of course, but it would mean potentially fucking up any rival MCs who saw me coming through their territory unannounced.

Still no sign of her.

Every dark ditch I passed I dreaded seeing her mangled car, her limp body.

Nothing.

I was sick as hell.

By the time I got back, it was morning. Like an idiot, I hoped I’d see Polly’s car. That she’d be back. That she would just have gone out to visit her aunt, and hadn’t actually heard what I said, that she’d be happy to see me, her dimples popping out at me, arms ready to go around my neck.

Mac met me at the door.

“I have some cousins who would be interested in joining Legends MC. I know they’d join in a heartbeat. But you said they were too skinny.”

“Well, why would I want them now?” I asked irritably.

“One of them is real good at computer stuff, boss.”

I froze. I didn’t give a single fuck about anything but finding Polly right now. I would have patched in the Devil himself if he’d showed me how to find her.

“Get him. Get him.”

And that was how a 25-year-old curly-haired ginger squirt came to be standing in the Legends MC clubhouse, shifting back and forth in his wingtip shoes, with his khaki pants drawn up almost to his chest.

“So you’re an accountant?” Uncle asked. “Damn good set of skills.”

He darted his eyes over at me. Unc had been pushing steadily for more recruitment for years. I’d always refused. Until now.

“I think we’ll call him Asparagus, cause of that hair,” Fizz said reflectively.

“Find her,” I choked out.

“Yes, sir,” Asparagus said. “What can I expect in terms of hazing?”

“Hazing? No fucking time for that.”

“Do I get a jacket? With patches?”

“Patches are earned, boy. But if you help me find my ol lady, you’ll get a nice starter patch.”

Mac had other cousins, but I told him to wait and see how this one did.

I could have messaged Laurie, but I was too ashamed of what I had said.

What the fuck had gotten into me to be such a pussy-ass bitch?

The moment she left I knew I’d been lying to myself.

Polly meant a lot to me and it had been idiotic to deny it.

Years of bitter stagnation and assuming every woman wanted money had meant I didn’t appreciate a quality woman when I had her.

Well, I was paying for it now.

Every day that passed without her was more painful than the last.

I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t work on jackshit. I couldn’t do anything but throw money at Asparagus and then bike the streets, night after night, hoping to find some trace of her.

She had never gone to Perry’s, because I stalked that motherfucker like I was his long-lost lover. She hadn’t gone back to her old place.

How the fuck had one woman ran from me so well, when I was desperate to get her back?

Late at night I sat at the table with a light blazing on the quilt. And I was attempting to sew it back together.

God, sewing fucking sucked balls. How could Polly enjoy this?

My fingers were too big for these tiny needles, and it felt like every single stitch took a pound of blood and sweat from me.

But I was going to get it back together if it fucking killed me.

Because at this point I’d do anything to feel Polly curled up next to me, look over and see her pushing those glasses up her nose.

The words I said kept going around and around in my head.

Which ones had Polly heard?

Almost certainly the ones about her being nothing more than a wet hole.

Had she heard my idiot remarks about her nagging?

Fucking hell. What I wouldn’t give right now for her to walk through this door with a fucking meatloaf and a wet pussy.

For things to go back to how they used to be.

I was going to have to change how I did some shit if I wanted to keep Polly once I found her.

But how?

Was it too late for an old dog to learn new tricks?