Fight(2)

I lifted a picture of Rocky as he sat on his motorcycle. His sunglasses were back on his bald head. His eyes were narrow, the viper eyes of a snake. His lip curled, head slightly back, the tattoos on his neck visible. He gave the middle finger. Rocky knew how to ruin any picture.

I dropped the picture and grabbed my coffee cup. I sipped it. It was ice cold. It had been sitting there for an hour, just like me. There was no good reason to be drinking coffee after midnight. Then again, this had been my schedule for years. Day was night and night was day. There was no such thing as normal. No nine-to-five stuff. No worrying about paying the car insurance on time. No forgetting to buy the spaghetti sauce for pasta night and needing an emergency trip to the grocery store.

That life passed me by too long ago to care.

There was a knock at the door and then it opened.

Sarah came walking in, carrying a bag of groceries. She was Harlan’s old lady. She was in her mid-thirties, looked ten years younger, and seemed to be the voice of reason throughout the MC. Mostly because she wore low cut shirts and loved to show off her breast implants. They were big but not too big. I never commented on them because she had always been jealous of my natural breasts. I guess I was considered lucky I didn't need to change anything about myself.

She was skinny, wore a tight black top with a crashing V line, and had blood red nails and lipstick that matched. Her hair was pitch black, pulled back in a tight ponytail. She smelled of smoke as she put the bag down on the table. Her shirt pulled up on her body, showing off tattoos that were on her hips. She told me that her hips were too wide so she got tattoos to distract from them. Her hips were made for babies, but Sarah could never have kids. Harlan didn’t want kids and he liked to grab her hips when he f*cked her. I knew this because Sarah told me and I’d seen her and Harlan having sex a few times. Her tattoos were angel wings, and she always joked saying that Harlan liked to hold her wings more than her tits.

“It’s late,” Sarah said. “You should sleep. We have to ride in the morning.”

I nodded.

The ride.

Where we’d take Rocky’s body to the cemetery and say goodbye.

Bad enough we had the viewing just a few hours ago. Seeing his corpse in a black casket. His face was so pale. So dead. The work done on his neck wasn’t all that great. I couldn’t stop looking at it.

They were burying him with his leather cut, the ultimate sign of respect for Rocky. Which made sense since he was the VP of the club.

“I got you some stuff,” Sarah said. “I know your mind is scattered right now.”

“How much do I owe you?”

Sarah kissed the top of my head. “Just show me your boobs sometime and we’ll call it even.”

“You have your own to look at.”

“Yours are nicer.”

I smiled. “Thanks.”

Sarah took the grocery bag into the kitchen and then came back to the table. She pulled out a chair and sat down.

“What are we doing?”

“I’m supposed to pick out a picture of Rocky.”

“What do you have so far?”

“All these.”

“Here, let’s do something,” Sarah said. “Close your eyes.”

I shut my eyes. “Okay.”

“Just put your hand on a picture. Now.”

I grabbed a picture and then opened my eyes.

It was of Rocky and Stoney laughing. VP and President. Their arms around each other, mouths open, heads back. They were drunk as hell in the picture.

“There,” Sarah said. “Done.”

Sarah leaned forward and started to collect the pictures. She swiped them all together like a deck of cards and then flipped the stack over so I couldn’t see anything.

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ve just been sitting here. You know?”

“I know,” Sarah said softly. She touched my hand. “I know. The entire club is mourning. It’s going to take time, sweetie. But it will be okay.”

I blinked and felt tears in my eyes.

It wasn’t for Rocky. Well, maybe it was. Maybe just because he was dead. I mean, murder. The end of it all. Rocky had killed people. How many, I don’t know. But he did. The MC had darker ties and had connections I wanted nothing to do with. Sometimes the less you knew the better.

Then again, that could work against you.

“Tell me something,” Sarah said. “Get it off your chest.”

So I did.

I looked right at Sarah.

She always tried to find the sunshine during the darkest days.

Well, there was no sun here.

“Rocky was murdered,” I said.

“Yeah, I know that,” Sarah said.

“The MC doesn’t know who f*cking did it. And correct me if I’m wrong, but if one goes, the other goes next, right?”

Sarah’s face dropped.

Reality settled into her like it had settled into me.

Then she said what I’d been thinking for days now.

“You’re going to be killed next.”





3.


(Tripp)



The guy had a wicked right. I could at least give him that. It was like his right fist was a brick. He landed two good punches and I swore it would never happen again. Each time after that, I had my arm ready, blocking his punches, swinging at him, smacking everywhere from his gut, to his chest, to his chin, to his eyes. That’s how I worked. Top to bottom, bottom to top. Technically speaking my fighting style was probably shit. If I was put into a real ring with gloves and rules, I wasn’t sure if I’d make it out.