Chapter 13
TRUCK
I’ve left the gas station with Xero and the others for the moment because I have to speak to Coin regarding the landscaping costs. I’m not sure how much he thinks would be viable to lie down for plants and shit!
Climbing out of my truck, yeah, I purchased one because I’m sick of standing in line to use the club's vehicles. I picked this one up at a local car dealership, and they’d only had it a week. It was a good purchase with not too many miles on the clock.
There is something going on as the prospects, even Jethro who is normally at the tattoo studio at this time are there. Cilla is speaking to them, and Pres, Finger and Rides are standing listening. I am too curious to step away, so I saunter over and listen.
Cilla is speaking calmly and directly. “I’ve watched all of you work hard for the club.
You all do whatever you are told without a single complaint.
Jethro, you have stepped up and are now learning and working with Scribe, who is also a prospect but a working one as he manages the tattoo studio.
I wanted you all to know that what you do is seen.
With that being said, I’ve seen the bikes you ride, and honestly, they need to go to the bikes in the sky.
” Cilla scrunches her nose up so hard she has frown lines between her eyes.
“Tracker, Finger, and Rides have helped me achieve something I wanted to do. That someone needed money, and I did the…let’s call them spiritual nights at the diner to raise the funds.
Yes, it was a fundraiser. To get enough money to get you all better bikes, and with the kindness of Tracker, Finger and Rides I’ve done that. ”
I turn to look at a row of Harleys, yeah, older ones but in decent condition. They are not anything special, but by the look on the prospects' faces they are special to them.
I clap my hands in genuine applause. “I would have thrown a few dollars into a hat for the bikes, Cilla.”
“No need, Truck. Thanks to Rides, a dealership in bikes found me these six Harleys and did me a good deal on them too. I hope they’ll be better than the ones they are riding because honestly, they sound terrible, and I know nothing about bikes.
” Cilla giggles when she sees Jet cringe at her comment.
I can understand why, because we’ve all seen the black smoke pouring out of his exhaust at times.
“Thank you so much, Cilla.” “Thank you.” “Oh my God, thank you.” Is the chorus of comments from the prospects, all looking emotional.
“If any of you fuckin’ cry like babies, you’ll be out the door and leaving your cuts behind,” Tracker snarls in his President tone. I smirk when I see two of them swallowing and controlling their expressions.
Cilla however, throws out her hand and the back of it hits Pres in the middle of his chest. We all look at Cilla in shock, then at Tracker for his reaction.
What we don’t expect is for him to grab her around the neck and give her a noogie.
Giggles burst out of Cilla, and she grabs ahold of Tracker’s sides and pinches him.
It’s turning into an all-out wrestling match, and I’m not getting involved.
I make my way into the clubhouse, chuckling at the carry-on I’m leaving behind.
Walking into Coin's office, I throw myself into a chair. “How much can I spend on the frontage of the gas station?” I quickly ask without giving him a greeting.
“Well, hello, Truck. It’s lovely to see you.
Are you having a nice day?” Coins sarcastically responds, to which I ignore, and wait for his proper reply.
“Okay, you can spend what you like within reason. Don’t spend on ridiculous shit.
I can allow ten grand, and after that you need to come back to me. ”
Jumping out of the chair, I slap his shoulder as I pass him to reach the door. “Thanks, Coin.” I quickly step out of the office and make my way back outside to the truck.
Hearing my phone ping, I check out the message, and it’s Xero saying Rory is at the gas station checking out garden areas. I rush to the truck and quickly get on the road. I don’t want to miss seeing Rory, and I want to make sure the three shits know to stay away from her too.
Parking at the gas station, I quickly make my way over to Rory, Xero, and Mitchell. They are discussing the large border in front of them. I call it a border loosely because what it is, is a damn mess.
“Hi, Rory. So, what do you think?” I ask as I look at the overgrown area in front of us.
Rory shakes her head. “It is a mess that is for sure. Cut back and get rid of all the dead stuff. Mow the lawn area, and then we can see how large the border really is. At the moment, there is no telling. That needs to be done in all three areas in the front here. I’ll not look around the back of the property until we have this looking something like it should when completed.
I’m happy to come and help if that is okay? ”
I jump at the chance. “Of course, we’d be happy to have your help and advice.” I look at Xero who is grinning like a fool.
“I will come on Sunday morning and help if that’s good for you? I work at the diner five evenings a week, but I take a little time for resting on Saturday evening, along with a movie and a bag of popcorn.” Rory giggles, and it’s the sweetest sound I think I’ve ever heard.
“Okay, that’s great, so we’ll see you Sunday morning.”
I look at Collins who has just walked over from where he’d been wiping down the new gas pumps. “I’ll get the dumpster ready for the weekend. We’ll have a lot of shit to be taken away once we’ve cleared all this away,” he says while looking at the area in front of us.
“This is Rory. She’s been kind enough to come and help organize us. Rather than paying the huge prices companies charge for landscaping,” in my way of introducing Rory to Collins.
“Hi, Rory. Do you have any idea of what we are going to do?” Collins asks while giving Rory a good look-over. It’s a look over I’m not keen to see and I’ll be telling him to back the fuck off when Rory has left.
“Well, I’m not a gardener per se, but I will visit the garden place and speak to the person in charge.
I’m good at getting information, so leave it to me to get what we need.
” Rory gives me a pat on the forearm, taking me by surprise somewhat.
“I’m going to have to leave you now, Truck.
I have some paperwork to get organized for clients that I am helping. ”
“Clients? What are you helping them with?” I know I’m nosey, but hey, you don’t find out shit unless you ask.
“I’m a financial manager. I help people manage their money to the best they can.”
I rub my chin and frown before asking, “So what do you do? I have no idea what a financial manager does.”
Collins, Xero, and Mitchell step a little closer, wanting to hear the answer, I’m sure.
“I oversee accounts, produce financial reports, manage budgets, and create strategies on how to make a profit and also cut financial risks. That’s the basics of what I do,” Rory looks at us and gives a shrug. “Okay, I’ve got to go. I’ll see you Sunday.”
With that, Rory wanders over to her vehicle, and we all stand stupidly watching her leave. I even lift my hand and wave for fuck's sake!
“Christ, she is something else. I wonder if she can look at the gas station’s financials once we are up and running? It may save us spending money we don’t need to, and it’s about making enough money to supply us all with an income after all,” Collins throws out before he turns and walks away.
“Oh…” I forcefully state, “Rory is mine; she just doesn’t know it yet.”
Mitchell gives me a dirty look. “You don’t even know her, and have you even taken her out for a meal or anything? Well, she’s open fodder as far as I see it.” He winks at Xero who chuckles before agreeing, and the fuckers walk away mumbling to each other.
Goddamn, I’m going to have to up the timeline on getting to know Rory. If that fucker thinks he’s going to jump in and get to Rory first he has another think coming!
Seven in the evening, and although I was going to the diner to eat, I wanted to speak to Coin about what I had learned about Rory. I’m sure the fact that she knows about organizing money will be of interest to him.
I finish the meal and am about to take my plate to the kitchen when Ghost bursts into the clubhouse shouting for Pres. We all jump to our feet and are ready for whatever the fuck is going on.
“Pres, you've gotta see what I brought you…” Ghost laughs loudly.
Tracker, who had been heading back toward his office turns and walks toward Ghost. “What have you got for me?”
“You need to see what is in the back of my truck. You’re gonna like it,” Ghost is laughing the entire time he’s speaking.
Of course, we all follow behind to see what the fuck he has in his truck. What none of us expected was a man tied up like a turkey at Thanksgiving.
Tracker, now in President mode, looks at Ghost and blandly demands, “Explain!”
“This is the man who sent the two assholes you had in the shed. He’s the one who is a cousin to Maddog Hughes and thought he was brave enough, and clever enough to take you on, Pres.”
Ghost is saying all this with so much excitement in his voice that I have to look at him twice. He is the blandest person you could meet. Normally hardly speaks and can get in and out anywhere without you noticing, but at this minute he is gushing with excitement like a girl at prom.
“Nice!” Pres replies as he gives a flick of his head to Cap and Hot Rod who are standing closest to him. Normally it would be Finger, but he’s gone to the house with Cilla because Ayla was grizzly.
Rubbing his hands together Pres follows the pair carrying the asshole to the shed. I’m not missing this, so I quickly follow behind and don’t even try to stop the smirk that’s plastered across my face.
Half-an-hour later I’m leaning against the shed wall, inside of course, and watching this asshole being beaten to a pulp.
Cap, Rides, Finger, who arrived after being told what was going on, Hot Rod, and Scalpel have had a round of boxing with his body.
The ‘My punch was harder than yours’ and ‘Hey, he bleeds if you hit him here,’ to which the asshole pisses blood.
Seems his kidney is taking a battering. Am I sickened by any of this?
No, certainly not. From what we know so far, this bastard was working alongside Maddog, and should have run when he had the chance.
Now he thought he was going to get some payback for his cousin; instead, he is going to meet his cousin in hell.
“Stop, please stop. I’m sorry, I’ll disappear and you’ll never see me again,” the sniveling asshole cries.
“Did you think of that when the drugs you were selling were killing kids? Did you care when that young boy was in a coma weeks before they had to pull the plug because he was brain dead? Did you give an actual fuck about anything except your own pocket?” Pres snarls, “I’ll answer for you.
No, you didn’t give a fuck, but you are gonna pay for it now, then you’ll meet your cousin. ”
Hot Rod picks up a potato Y-peeler which has been sharpened and the blade fixed at an excellent angle.
Walking over to the asshole who is hanging from a chain fixed to the ceiling.
Ripping down his jogging pants, Hot Rod takes the peeler where he starts at his thigh and he runs that peeler down the fucker's leg, all the way to his ankle.
Now, I’m not squeamish, but fuck, watching the skin peel off like a potato or carrot being peeled is damn nasty. The screams are high-pitched enough to burst your eardrums.
Pres walks over and examines the result, discussing it like you would any job you are interested in. “That’s neat. Where did you get that idea?” Pres asks Hot Rod.
Hot Rod smirks and puffs his chest out a little. “Well, you see I was watching this serial killer program on the TV, and it was a woman who used all different types of kitchen equipment to murder. It was very interesting.”
The asshole is crying for his momma, but we all know that’s not gonna work. When he turns to God, we all roll our eyes because we know he’s not going to help either.
“Let me try,” Pres asks as he holds his hand out for the peeler.
Hot Rod hands it over to him with no hesitation.
The rest of us watch as Pres makes a hash of the first couple of tries.
But when he does the back of the thigh and gets a nice strip of flesh, he gives a nod of approval.
“Yeah, it works. Got to get the hang of it, but it sure peels cleanly.”
The wailing gets worse, the blood pours more, and with hardly any skin on him now that most of the room has had a try with the peeler.
I’m ready for him to be gotten rid of. I only just had that thought when Pres picks up his gun and shoots the fucker in the back of his head.
Silencing the room and splattering it with brains.
“Fuck’s sake, Pres. Look at the mess you made?
” Cap snaps while doing his best to wipe a piece of brain from his cheek.
I chuckle but thankfully was far enough away that my hazmat suit has not a single drop of blood or other bodily fluid on it.
I leave the shed after stripping off the suit, throwing it in the can for disposal, and head inside.
I’ve got a plan to make. How to catch yourself a woman…Maybe I could Google it?