Atone, page 14
“So Ryder… I had to take her to the emergency room. She was bleeding.” That came out so bad. “I’m sure she’s going to be fine though…” The line is dead quiet.
“What hospital?”
“Cedar’s.”
“Is there a Charlize out here?” A woman doctor stands with a laptop looking out at the waiting room.
“I have to go. They’re calling me.” I hang up on him. Whatever, I don’t even know if I should have said anything.
“Me, that’s me.” I run over to the doctor. “Hi, yes, that’s me,” I say, flipping my hair over my shoulder.
“I’m Dr. Sullivan.”
I nod and look around at all the people in the waiting area.
“Your friend is fine.” She turns to go.
“Excuse me?” I walk next to her. She stops and looks at me, almost as if she’s annoyed.
“Yes?”
“She was screaming in pain… and bleeding.” I motion to my crotch.
Her phone rings. “Excuse me.” She manages to put the laptop under her arm and talk on the phone.
I look out the sliding glass doors of the ER and blink at the bright sunny day spilling in. It’s been so crazy I haven’t even noticed the time.
“Sorry, I had to take that.” She turns and faces me. She’s the plainest woman I have ever met. Maybe, forty, tall, thin, mousy brown hair.
“So yes, your friend had a cyst that ruptured.” Her phone dings.
“That’s what caused the pain and blood. We gave her some medicine for the pain. She should be out soon.” She’s saying all this as she reads her phone.
“It would be nice if she had someone to stay with her tonight.” She finally looks at me.
“No problem.” I smile at her.
“Good.”
As I watch her walk away, my first thought is that I’m supposed to close tonight, not watch Cindy. I’m filled with guilt for even thinking it.
I go outside and push Mom on my phone. She’s going to have to close, which is never a good thing.
It goes straight to voice mail. I roll my eyes. My head aches. Did I ever eat that banana?
“Hey, Mom, listen.” I sigh. “I talked to the doctor. Cindy is on pain medicine. I guess a cyst ruptured. Anyway, the doctor wants to make sure someone stays with her. Ask Tiffany if she can come in, and you need to close.”
I toss the phone into my bag on a mission to find the banana. My stomach hurts and my head is pounding. I need to eat something. “Shit.” I sigh as I pull out the mushy brown mess. “Seriously?” It must have been smushed between my wallet and makeup bag. Either way, it’s not edible, so I toss it in the trash can to my right. That’s when I remember my coffee cup, which I clearly forgot in the poor Uber driver’s car. God, he must hate us.
My bag starts vibrating. In an instant, I grab the phone and realize it’s Cindy’s. Dropping mine, I fish hers out.
Ryder’s name slides across the screen. Of course, my heart jumps to my throat then back down. Should I answer again? I simply stare at it until it stops ringing. When I’m about to head back inside, it vibrates again.
Sighing, I decide to answer it. “Hello?”
“What happened?”
Holy shit. That gravelly demanding voice makes me choke up. Ryder’s not on the line, but David is.
DAVID/POET
I sit in the booth of one of our strip clubs waiting. Ryder and Edge have already started drinking.
The music is way too loud for this early crowd, or maybe it’s me. My chest is vibrating from the volume. I look around and grit my teeth. I’m not happy. As a matter of fact, I’m in a fucking foul mood. And this pit of a strip club has my name on the deed along with Edge’s.
We’re waiting for a kid named Brodie. This is the one I got from Reed’s FBI documents.
“I have to go get the DJ to turn down this fucking music.”
Edge shakes his head like I’m crazy or something and keeps drinking.
“Jesus, Poet. Chill the fuck out. I’m sure he’s jacked up from working all night. We had a private party.” He raises his beer and looks at the stage.
“What time does the replacement arrive?”
“I think noon.”
This is one of our older clubs. My scumbag dad was the original owner.
I got it when he died and added Edge on before I blew out of town.
It needs a fucking facelift badly. The red velvet booths stink like booze and body fluids. All of them need to be removed. On that note, I take out my phone to schedule someone to get in here tomorrow and clean them.
“I’m closing the club tomorrow morning for a deep cleaning.” I don’t look up as I state this, but I can sense them both staring at me.
“This place is a gold mine. Don’t mess with its mojo,” Edge grunts into his beer bottle.
Now I do look up. “It’s a fucking sty and quite frankly, I’m amazed the health department hasn’t shut your ass down.”
He snorts and leans his head back, his red hair standing straight up on the velvet couch. “I pay a lot of money so that doesn’t happen.”
I scowl at him then at Ryder who seems preoccupied with his phone. When I get like this, I either need to fuck or fight. Since I have sworn off Charlie, I wish Axel was here so I could kick his ass.
I look at the door. It’s close to meeting time. The kid says he has his dad’s old cell phone. Stupid, yes. Helpful, we’ll see.
“Go get your cock sucked by Destiny—you need it.” Ryder looks up from his phone and grins. “And no, I’m not going to step out and let you beat up on me because you’re hung up on a woman and won’t admit it.”
Edge raises his head and looks at us. “The fuck? Who is it?” I should be insulted at his shocked expression.
“Jesus Christ.” I scoot out of the booth. “I can’t stand the smell of this place and the music is shit. I’m fucking done.”
I don’t care if the DJ is tired or on drugs. This place is a disgrace.
“Poet, sit down and shut the fuck up. If anyone needs to get laid, it’s you.” Ryder snickers as he types on his phone.
“That’s the last thing I need.” I look around to see if there are any options. He’s probably right. I can’t drink and no one wants to fight. And since I’m done with my raven-haired beauty with the golden eyes, why not fuck a stripper in the back? Take the pressure off.
Unfortunately, although they try to maintain themselves, all the girls seem too pale compared to Charlie and her magical pussy that makes my demons stop talking.
“Actually”—he sets down his phone and crosses his arms—“you need to be honest with yourself, man.”
“Ryder, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The disco lights come on signaling a new girl and covering him in rainbows. I lean over the table. “Don’t overstep your bounds, brother.”
I glare at him and he looks back, raising a brow.
“I’m telling it like it is. You’re starting to act like Prez, and he was a jackass for months. Fuck man, you’re supposed to be like mature. It doesn’t take a mental giant to get that you want this girl.”
My eyes narrow as I inhale. My fists are clenched so tightly my knuckles crack. Ryder shakes his head and picks up his phone again.
“Not gonna happen, Poet. Find someone else to take out your shit on.”
“Um, hey.” We all turn toward a scrawny young guy. He clears his throat and looks around the club. Again, it’s a dive. If he’s bothered by it, he hides it well.
I remember his old man. He was one scary fucker, so I guess growing up with that as your role model makes you tough even if it looks like the wind could blow you over.
Our pathetic lights, which we pretend are strobe lights even though they’re far from it, zero in, creating one big spotlight on Tiffany. We all turn to observe her crawl across the stage dressed like a cat.
“Brodie?”
“Yeah, I just came from class.”
I turn back to him. He’s dressed in a pink shirt and tight khaki skinny jeans.
“Here, have a seat. Any problem finding the place?”
“No, I plugged it into my phone and boom.” He slides into the booth, nodding to Edge and Ryder, who are both absorbed in watching Tiffany crawl and roll around the stage.
“I’d delete that if I were you.” I want to roll my eyes at people’s stupidity with leaving a trail. It’s why I don’t have a phone. I use burners and toss them when done.
“You want something to drink?”
He pulls out his phone and looks at it frowning. “Um, sure.” He looks at Ryder. “I’ll have that.”
If the kid is nineteen, I’d be surprised. Whatever. He’s here and hopefully what he has is genuine, so we don’t have to beat him.
He taps the table to the horrible music, his eyes drifting back to Ryder. “You’re the Enforcer right?”
Ryder drags his eyes from Tiffany’s naked chest. “Yeah, I’m the Enforcer.”
Brodie smiles and looks down at his hands. “My old man said you were badass.”
Ryder takes a sip of beer and eyes the kid. “How long’s it been? Six, seven years since he rode his bike off the road?”
Brodie straightens his shoulders. “I don’t talk about that. I have a different life than Satan’s Seeds. They don’t want me, and I need money.”
He looks at me as Sydney slithers up from behind and wraps her hands around my waist, reaching for my cock.
“You want a dance, Poet?” Her cheap perfume is so strong it almost smells like bug spray.
“Not tonight, Syd. If you can bring a water and another round that would be great.” I glance at Brodie. He’s fixated on Ryder.
A loud sigh comes out of Ryder as he sets down his phone with a thud and looks at Brodie. “Kid, I don’t give a fuck where you put your dick.” He leans his elbows on the table. “But you need to stop staring at me because I love pussy.”
Brodie shifts uncomfortably. “I… I’m so sorry. I wasn’t…” He jerks his eyes away and looks straight ahead.
Sydney starts to snicker, and I hold up my hand. “Just go get the drinks.” Then I slap her ass, which used to be rock hard. Unfortunately, years of too many men, drugs, alcohol, and Camel nonfilters have aged her.
She rasps over her shoulder, “He definitely loves pussy.”
Smoke remains in the spot where she stood. I flash to Pig Pen in Peanuts and the dirt always swirling around him.
Brodie leans over Edge, who gives him a what-the-hell look, so that he can speak to Ryder without yelling over the music. “I’m sorry. You’re kind of my hero. My dad was so impressed.” His pale face turns crimson and my patience, which was at maybe a five, is now at zero.
“Do you have the phone?” I reach for my cigarettes on the table and light up.
Los Angeles banned smoking basically everywhere years ago. And I couldn’t give two shits. I need one and I dare anyone to stop me.
“Brodie? You got your old man’s phone?” I snap, taking a deep drag and letting the nicotine do its job. I hold the cancer stick in my teeth as I grab a chair.
He swings his backpack onto the table almost knocking over Edge’s beer. “Sorry.”
I keep smoking, my eyes narrow. Is he a trap? He’s almost so ridiculous that if he is, I’d have to give the Seeds credit.
I put my hand on the bag before he unzips it.
“Tell us again. Why? Because if what I need is on that phone, Satan’s Seeds will not exist anymore.”
He leans back, motioning that I can open the backpack. I do and see nothing but college textbooks, notepads, and one black flip phone.
“I’m gay.” His eyes dart around the booth.
Ryder snorts. “No shit?” Then he turns to the stage, bringing the beer to his lips.
“My old man and all of Satan’s Seeds thought I was wrong and enjoyed hurting me.” His voice cracks and his eyes reflect his pain. Whatever past this kid has had, it’s all there in his eyes. Demons like to fuck with him too.
“So yeah, I hope what you need is on this phone. I don’t care if every one of those pigs in Satan’s Seeds dies a slow, painful death. In fact, every night when I go to sleep, it’s what I pray for.”
At last, Edge looks at him, brow raised at the hatred frothing from his mouth.
The annoying loud beat has changed to a dull thud. The new DJ must be on. Lenny Kravitz’s “American Woman” plays and the lights flash red, white, and blue for a laser effect.
Brodie shrugs. “But that’s not the reason I’m helping you guys. I’m betraying them because my mother was left with nothing. Nothing. That piece of garbage that was my father drove his bike off a cliff high as a kite and left us with no insurance. She’s sick.”
He pulls out the black flip phone and tosses it to me almost as if it’s dipped in poison. And it just might be.
“I’ll be back,” I say.
Brodie leans forward and grabs my wrist.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You need to let go.”
He must realize his mistake. The look I gave him is not friendly. He drops it and sits down with a loud thud.
“Sorry, I panicked.” He looks at Ryder and Edge who stare at him, expressionless. “I need my money.”
“Relax. We have your money,” I hiss. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go anywhere or giving you a dime until I check that this is really his phone.”
“But…” He looks like a boy who lost his puppy. “My mother… I need this money.” He looks around the table. No one says anything. The music and dimmed lights are all that keep us company.
“I guess you’ll have to trust us.” I stand with the phone. “And Brodie?”
I stare down at him. He clutches his backpack to his chest as if that can protect him.
“I hope this is his phone, or when I come back, I’m gonna put a bullet in your head. Then where will your mother be?”
“Jesus, Poet.” Ryder starts laughing, making Brodie look as though he might throw up. “Don’t sugarcoat it for the kid.”
“You have nothing to worry about. That’s my dad’s phone.”
“Good,” I say, nodding to Sydney as I pass. She winks. Her tray is loaded up with the beers and my water, which I snag.
“Poet,” she scolds. “I could have dropped the whole tray.”
“But you didn’t,” I call over my shoulder as I head straight for the office.
After I punch in the code, the door opens to our expensive monitoring equipment. Frosty sits at the main chair and watches the four flat screens. Our cameras pick up everything, even conversations.
“Let’s see it, Poet.” Frosty, swivels around. He’s the best hacker I know. I trust him, well, as much as I trust anyone. He’s another brother who has been in the club since birth.
“I hope this is what the kid says it is.”
I hand him the phone, looking at a camera that’s on Brodie. Ryder seems to be on his phone while Edge drinks. “I don’t want to have to kill him.”
Frosty starts chuckling as he sips a can of Coke.
“Let’s take a look.” He plugs it into his side monitor and starts downloading all the information. Numbers, which I’m positive are all gone by now, spin by like those on a slot machine.
“Hold on.” He reaches for his bag and pulls out a private keyboard. A couple of clicks and we hear a voice.
“Fuck.” I rub my hands up and down my face. Suddenly, I’m tired and we just began.
“Does it match?” I growl, my pulse pounding in my temples. The dark room glows with the lights of the screens.
“Yeah, man. Listen. This is Roach’s voice.”
He starts tapping on his computer. “Listen, this is him speaking at a funeral for one of the Satan’s Seeds.” The voice fills the dark room and I exhale. “I want a copy now, and this does not leave this room.”
He looks up at me like I’m crazy. “Of course. I can download all the texts.”
He pulls another wire out of a bag and plugs it in. “As far as all the deleted stuff, like deleted voice messages, emails, and texts, you need to give me a day or so.” His fingers remind me of a concert pianist as they glide over the keys. “It all depends on how old this phone is.”
“Just load up what you can for me now.”
He nods. “I got you, man.”
For a second, he stops to stare at the one TV that has a couple of drunk men fighting. The bouncers are Disciples prospects.
“Let me see your phone.”
I pull the burner out of my back pocket and hand it over as he plugs it into his computer.
“Everything that is on that phone is now in a file on your phone.”
“Just call when everything is ready.”
He swivels around to face me. “Poet?” His voice stops me.
“Yeah?”
“This is it, man. We’re gonna get these pieces of shit. I have a good feeling about this.” His usual calm, even slightly bored gaze comes alive as he stares at the numerous codes that come up as he types.
“Thanks, brother.”
Shutting the door behind me, I head back. I know in my gut that Satan’s Seeds is the club that blew up our lab. But they needed to have a rat. This is who needs to die, this is someone who had the location, the time. This person knew that all the head officers were going to be there.
As soon as I get to the table, I know something is wrong, and it has nothing to do with pale-faced Brodie who is nervously tapping his thumb on the table.
“Pay him,” I tell Edge.
“And, Brodie?”
He grabs the money wrapped in aluminum foil and barely glances at it as he tosses it into his backpack. “Yeah?” The color is returning to his face.
“Be careful, kid. Don’t trust anyone. I don’t need to tell you what they would do to you and your mother if they find that you’re talking to me.”
He takes a deep breath and nods. “I’m at school. It’s my mom.”
He rubs his hand up and down his jeans almost as if he has a nervous tic. “At least she’s clueless.” His eyes fill with tears.
“She still thinks they’re her family even though all the pigs do is come over and fuck her and leave. Take them down. I’m counting on you guys.”
He moves around me to leave. I let him. He has his own demons to tackle.
“What hospital?”
“Cedar’s.”
“Is there a Charlize out here?” A woman doctor stands with a laptop looking out at the waiting room.
“I have to go. They’re calling me.” I hang up on him. Whatever, I don’t even know if I should have said anything.
“Me, that’s me.” I run over to the doctor. “Hi, yes, that’s me,” I say, flipping my hair over my shoulder.
“I’m Dr. Sullivan.”
I nod and look around at all the people in the waiting area.
“Your friend is fine.” She turns to go.
“Excuse me?” I walk next to her. She stops and looks at me, almost as if she’s annoyed.
“Yes?”
“She was screaming in pain… and bleeding.” I motion to my crotch.
Her phone rings. “Excuse me.” She manages to put the laptop under her arm and talk on the phone.
I look out the sliding glass doors of the ER and blink at the bright sunny day spilling in. It’s been so crazy I haven’t even noticed the time.
“Sorry, I had to take that.” She turns and faces me. She’s the plainest woman I have ever met. Maybe, forty, tall, thin, mousy brown hair.
“So yes, your friend had a cyst that ruptured.” Her phone dings.
“That’s what caused the pain and blood. We gave her some medicine for the pain. She should be out soon.” She’s saying all this as she reads her phone.
“It would be nice if she had someone to stay with her tonight.” She finally looks at me.
“No problem.” I smile at her.
“Good.”
As I watch her walk away, my first thought is that I’m supposed to close tonight, not watch Cindy. I’m filled with guilt for even thinking it.
I go outside and push Mom on my phone. She’s going to have to close, which is never a good thing.
It goes straight to voice mail. I roll my eyes. My head aches. Did I ever eat that banana?
“Hey, Mom, listen.” I sigh. “I talked to the doctor. Cindy is on pain medicine. I guess a cyst ruptured. Anyway, the doctor wants to make sure someone stays with her. Ask Tiffany if she can come in, and you need to close.”
I toss the phone into my bag on a mission to find the banana. My stomach hurts and my head is pounding. I need to eat something. “Shit.” I sigh as I pull out the mushy brown mess. “Seriously?” It must have been smushed between my wallet and makeup bag. Either way, it’s not edible, so I toss it in the trash can to my right. That’s when I remember my coffee cup, which I clearly forgot in the poor Uber driver’s car. God, he must hate us.
My bag starts vibrating. In an instant, I grab the phone and realize it’s Cindy’s. Dropping mine, I fish hers out.
Ryder’s name slides across the screen. Of course, my heart jumps to my throat then back down. Should I answer again? I simply stare at it until it stops ringing. When I’m about to head back inside, it vibrates again.
Sighing, I decide to answer it. “Hello?”
“What happened?”
Holy shit. That gravelly demanding voice makes me choke up. Ryder’s not on the line, but David is.
DAVID/POET
I sit in the booth of one of our strip clubs waiting. Ryder and Edge have already started drinking.
The music is way too loud for this early crowd, or maybe it’s me. My chest is vibrating from the volume. I look around and grit my teeth. I’m not happy. As a matter of fact, I’m in a fucking foul mood. And this pit of a strip club has my name on the deed along with Edge’s.
We’re waiting for a kid named Brodie. This is the one I got from Reed’s FBI documents.
“I have to go get the DJ to turn down this fucking music.”
Edge shakes his head like I’m crazy or something and keeps drinking.
“Jesus, Poet. Chill the fuck out. I’m sure he’s jacked up from working all night. We had a private party.” He raises his beer and looks at the stage.
“What time does the replacement arrive?”
“I think noon.”
This is one of our older clubs. My scumbag dad was the original owner.
I got it when he died and added Edge on before I blew out of town.
It needs a fucking facelift badly. The red velvet booths stink like booze and body fluids. All of them need to be removed. On that note, I take out my phone to schedule someone to get in here tomorrow and clean them.
“I’m closing the club tomorrow morning for a deep cleaning.” I don’t look up as I state this, but I can sense them both staring at me.
“This place is a gold mine. Don’t mess with its mojo,” Edge grunts into his beer bottle.
Now I do look up. “It’s a fucking sty and quite frankly, I’m amazed the health department hasn’t shut your ass down.”
He snorts and leans his head back, his red hair standing straight up on the velvet couch. “I pay a lot of money so that doesn’t happen.”
I scowl at him then at Ryder who seems preoccupied with his phone. When I get like this, I either need to fuck or fight. Since I have sworn off Charlie, I wish Axel was here so I could kick his ass.
I look at the door. It’s close to meeting time. The kid says he has his dad’s old cell phone. Stupid, yes. Helpful, we’ll see.
“Go get your cock sucked by Destiny—you need it.” Ryder looks up from his phone and grins. “And no, I’m not going to step out and let you beat up on me because you’re hung up on a woman and won’t admit it.”
Edge raises his head and looks at us. “The fuck? Who is it?” I should be insulted at his shocked expression.
“Jesus Christ.” I scoot out of the booth. “I can’t stand the smell of this place and the music is shit. I’m fucking done.”
I don’t care if the DJ is tired or on drugs. This place is a disgrace.
“Poet, sit down and shut the fuck up. If anyone needs to get laid, it’s you.” Ryder snickers as he types on his phone.
“That’s the last thing I need.” I look around to see if there are any options. He’s probably right. I can’t drink and no one wants to fight. And since I’m done with my raven-haired beauty with the golden eyes, why not fuck a stripper in the back? Take the pressure off.
Unfortunately, although they try to maintain themselves, all the girls seem too pale compared to Charlie and her magical pussy that makes my demons stop talking.
“Actually”—he sets down his phone and crosses his arms—“you need to be honest with yourself, man.”
“Ryder, you have no idea what you’re talking about.”
The disco lights come on signaling a new girl and covering him in rainbows. I lean over the table. “Don’t overstep your bounds, brother.”
I glare at him and he looks back, raising a brow.
“I’m telling it like it is. You’re starting to act like Prez, and he was a jackass for months. Fuck man, you’re supposed to be like mature. It doesn’t take a mental giant to get that you want this girl.”
My eyes narrow as I inhale. My fists are clenched so tightly my knuckles crack. Ryder shakes his head and picks up his phone again.
“Not gonna happen, Poet. Find someone else to take out your shit on.”
“Um, hey.” We all turn toward a scrawny young guy. He clears his throat and looks around the club. Again, it’s a dive. If he’s bothered by it, he hides it well.
I remember his old man. He was one scary fucker, so I guess growing up with that as your role model makes you tough even if it looks like the wind could blow you over.
Our pathetic lights, which we pretend are strobe lights even though they’re far from it, zero in, creating one big spotlight on Tiffany. We all turn to observe her crawl across the stage dressed like a cat.
“Brodie?”
“Yeah, I just came from class.”
I turn back to him. He’s dressed in a pink shirt and tight khaki skinny jeans.
“Here, have a seat. Any problem finding the place?”
“No, I plugged it into my phone and boom.” He slides into the booth, nodding to Edge and Ryder, who are both absorbed in watching Tiffany crawl and roll around the stage.
“I’d delete that if I were you.” I want to roll my eyes at people’s stupidity with leaving a trail. It’s why I don’t have a phone. I use burners and toss them when done.
“You want something to drink?”
He pulls out his phone and looks at it frowning. “Um, sure.” He looks at Ryder. “I’ll have that.”
If the kid is nineteen, I’d be surprised. Whatever. He’s here and hopefully what he has is genuine, so we don’t have to beat him.
He taps the table to the horrible music, his eyes drifting back to Ryder. “You’re the Enforcer right?”
Ryder drags his eyes from Tiffany’s naked chest. “Yeah, I’m the Enforcer.”
Brodie smiles and looks down at his hands. “My old man said you were badass.”
Ryder takes a sip of beer and eyes the kid. “How long’s it been? Six, seven years since he rode his bike off the road?”
Brodie straightens his shoulders. “I don’t talk about that. I have a different life than Satan’s Seeds. They don’t want me, and I need money.”
He looks at me as Sydney slithers up from behind and wraps her hands around my waist, reaching for my cock.
“You want a dance, Poet?” Her cheap perfume is so strong it almost smells like bug spray.
“Not tonight, Syd. If you can bring a water and another round that would be great.” I glance at Brodie. He’s fixated on Ryder.
A loud sigh comes out of Ryder as he sets down his phone with a thud and looks at Brodie. “Kid, I don’t give a fuck where you put your dick.” He leans his elbows on the table. “But you need to stop staring at me because I love pussy.”
Brodie shifts uncomfortably. “I… I’m so sorry. I wasn’t…” He jerks his eyes away and looks straight ahead.
Sydney starts to snicker, and I hold up my hand. “Just go get the drinks.” Then I slap her ass, which used to be rock hard. Unfortunately, years of too many men, drugs, alcohol, and Camel nonfilters have aged her.
She rasps over her shoulder, “He definitely loves pussy.”
Smoke remains in the spot where she stood. I flash to Pig Pen in Peanuts and the dirt always swirling around him.
Brodie leans over Edge, who gives him a what-the-hell look, so that he can speak to Ryder without yelling over the music. “I’m sorry. You’re kind of my hero. My dad was so impressed.” His pale face turns crimson and my patience, which was at maybe a five, is now at zero.
“Do you have the phone?” I reach for my cigarettes on the table and light up.
Los Angeles banned smoking basically everywhere years ago. And I couldn’t give two shits. I need one and I dare anyone to stop me.
“Brodie? You got your old man’s phone?” I snap, taking a deep drag and letting the nicotine do its job. I hold the cancer stick in my teeth as I grab a chair.
He swings his backpack onto the table almost knocking over Edge’s beer. “Sorry.”
I keep smoking, my eyes narrow. Is he a trap? He’s almost so ridiculous that if he is, I’d have to give the Seeds credit.
I put my hand on the bag before he unzips it.
“Tell us again. Why? Because if what I need is on that phone, Satan’s Seeds will not exist anymore.”
He leans back, motioning that I can open the backpack. I do and see nothing but college textbooks, notepads, and one black flip phone.
“I’m gay.” His eyes dart around the booth.
Ryder snorts. “No shit?” Then he turns to the stage, bringing the beer to his lips.
“My old man and all of Satan’s Seeds thought I was wrong and enjoyed hurting me.” His voice cracks and his eyes reflect his pain. Whatever past this kid has had, it’s all there in his eyes. Demons like to fuck with him too.
“So yeah, I hope what you need is on this phone. I don’t care if every one of those pigs in Satan’s Seeds dies a slow, painful death. In fact, every night when I go to sleep, it’s what I pray for.”
At last, Edge looks at him, brow raised at the hatred frothing from his mouth.
The annoying loud beat has changed to a dull thud. The new DJ must be on. Lenny Kravitz’s “American Woman” plays and the lights flash red, white, and blue for a laser effect.
Brodie shrugs. “But that’s not the reason I’m helping you guys. I’m betraying them because my mother was left with nothing. Nothing. That piece of garbage that was my father drove his bike off a cliff high as a kite and left us with no insurance. She’s sick.”
He pulls out the black flip phone and tosses it to me almost as if it’s dipped in poison. And it just might be.
“I’ll be back,” I say.
Brodie leans forward and grabs my wrist.
I narrow my eyes at him. “You need to let go.”
He must realize his mistake. The look I gave him is not friendly. He drops it and sits down with a loud thud.
“Sorry, I panicked.” He looks at Ryder and Edge who stare at him, expressionless. “I need my money.”
“Relax. We have your money,” I hiss. “There’s no way in hell I’m letting you go anywhere or giving you a dime until I check that this is really his phone.”
“But…” He looks like a boy who lost his puppy. “My mother… I need this money.” He looks around the table. No one says anything. The music and dimmed lights are all that keep us company.
“I guess you’ll have to trust us.” I stand with the phone. “And Brodie?”
I stare down at him. He clutches his backpack to his chest as if that can protect him.
“I hope this is his phone, or when I come back, I’m gonna put a bullet in your head. Then where will your mother be?”
“Jesus, Poet.” Ryder starts laughing, making Brodie look as though he might throw up. “Don’t sugarcoat it for the kid.”
“You have nothing to worry about. That’s my dad’s phone.”
“Good,” I say, nodding to Sydney as I pass. She winks. Her tray is loaded up with the beers and my water, which I snag.
“Poet,” she scolds. “I could have dropped the whole tray.”
“But you didn’t,” I call over my shoulder as I head straight for the office.
After I punch in the code, the door opens to our expensive monitoring equipment. Frosty sits at the main chair and watches the four flat screens. Our cameras pick up everything, even conversations.
“Let’s see it, Poet.” Frosty, swivels around. He’s the best hacker I know. I trust him, well, as much as I trust anyone. He’s another brother who has been in the club since birth.
“I hope this is what the kid says it is.”
I hand him the phone, looking at a camera that’s on Brodie. Ryder seems to be on his phone while Edge drinks. “I don’t want to have to kill him.”
Frosty starts chuckling as he sips a can of Coke.
“Let’s take a look.” He plugs it into his side monitor and starts downloading all the information. Numbers, which I’m positive are all gone by now, spin by like those on a slot machine.
“Hold on.” He reaches for his bag and pulls out a private keyboard. A couple of clicks and we hear a voice.
“Fuck.” I rub my hands up and down my face. Suddenly, I’m tired and we just began.
“Does it match?” I growl, my pulse pounding in my temples. The dark room glows with the lights of the screens.
“Yeah, man. Listen. This is Roach’s voice.”
He starts tapping on his computer. “Listen, this is him speaking at a funeral for one of the Satan’s Seeds.” The voice fills the dark room and I exhale. “I want a copy now, and this does not leave this room.”
He looks up at me like I’m crazy. “Of course. I can download all the texts.”
He pulls another wire out of a bag and plugs it in. “As far as all the deleted stuff, like deleted voice messages, emails, and texts, you need to give me a day or so.” His fingers remind me of a concert pianist as they glide over the keys. “It all depends on how old this phone is.”
“Just load up what you can for me now.”
He nods. “I got you, man.”
For a second, he stops to stare at the one TV that has a couple of drunk men fighting. The bouncers are Disciples prospects.
“Let me see your phone.”
I pull the burner out of my back pocket and hand it over as he plugs it into his computer.
“Everything that is on that phone is now in a file on your phone.”
“Just call when everything is ready.”
He swivels around to face me. “Poet?” His voice stops me.
“Yeah?”
“This is it, man. We’re gonna get these pieces of shit. I have a good feeling about this.” His usual calm, even slightly bored gaze comes alive as he stares at the numerous codes that come up as he types.
“Thanks, brother.”
Shutting the door behind me, I head back. I know in my gut that Satan’s Seeds is the club that blew up our lab. But they needed to have a rat. This is who needs to die, this is someone who had the location, the time. This person knew that all the head officers were going to be there.
As soon as I get to the table, I know something is wrong, and it has nothing to do with pale-faced Brodie who is nervously tapping his thumb on the table.
“Pay him,” I tell Edge.
“And, Brodie?”
He grabs the money wrapped in aluminum foil and barely glances at it as he tosses it into his backpack. “Yeah?” The color is returning to his face.
“Be careful, kid. Don’t trust anyone. I don’t need to tell you what they would do to you and your mother if they find that you’re talking to me.”
He takes a deep breath and nods. “I’m at school. It’s my mom.”
He rubs his hand up and down his jeans almost as if he has a nervous tic. “At least she’s clueless.” His eyes fill with tears.
“She still thinks they’re her family even though all the pigs do is come over and fuck her and leave. Take them down. I’m counting on you guys.”
He moves around me to leave. I let him. He has his own demons to tackle.
