Saving Della Ray

“There’s no need for this.” Dog stepped in cautiously. Pulling out a dirty, screwed up handkerchief he wiped the sweat pouring down his temples with it. The fatty pouches under his eyes were a muddy brown color. “True, RJ did wrong, but for harassing him the way they did … and taking his vest. That’s unforgivable. It’s a disrespect that we cannot accept.”

Unmoved, Tyler cocked his gun.

Deathly silence followed the sound.

“Calm down, Tyler,’ Snake ordered coldly. He was a man black in heart, without culture or religion, violent, and avaricious. You only had to look into his eyes to know his soul was rotten.

“Tell us, idiot. How you gonna fucking fix this?” Tyler asked RJ, but he’d lowered his gun while a muscle high up along his right eye kept twitching restlessly.

RJ remained silent, but the rebellious glare of resentment he gave Tyler showed his complete lack of remorse for his actions. More importantly, he understood the danger was over, Snake had spoken. And he knew better than to question Snake. Especially not if he planned on becoming the Vice President of our club.

I knew Snake wanted RJ alive because of his eagerness to take on even the most distasteful tasks. Ones that even the most senior members may have had reservations in handling.

“We’re going to have to meet,” Snake said, moving his psychopathic stone-cold gray eyes slowly around the room. “There’s a drag race down at Route 89 in two weeks. We’re either going to get things resolved then, or escalate this into an all-out war.”

“War. Fuck that!” Rooster swore violently. Lighting his cigarette, he flicked the match at RJ’s bloody head. “If they refuse to back down, we’ll just offer this piece of shit’s head to them, and get the vest back.”

“How about we send a message over?” Skippy suggested, his pale eyes probing. He had a surprisingly soft voice for a man his size. “I’ll contact Buzzer and have him speak to his men. Otherwise, this could turn real ugly, real fucking fast.”

“No messages,” Tyler spat. “We’ll handle this at the race in two weeks.”

Cunningly, Snake allowed Tyler have the last word, as if the decision to handle the matter at the race in two weeks had always been his and not Snake’s.

I didn’t say a word. There was no need to. I’d learned a long time ago the less you spoke the better you fared.

Everybody agreed with Tyler and the hearing was concluded. RJ got off his knees and the men got back to getting drunk.

I made my way to my bedroom in the top corner attic of the club. The place was silent and my shoes made the wood of the stairs creak. I unlocked my door and walked in. It was small and stifling hot, but secluded enough and more importantly, it had a good escape down the rooftop if trouble ever came in a hail of bullets.

I walked around the small space to make sure everything remained exactly as I had left it. I had gone through a lot of trouble to earn this space, both in earnings to the club through arms and drugs sales, and in the house fees required of the members, so I didn’t take the invasion of my space lightly at all.

Then I picked up a bunch of clean clothes and after locking the door, went for a much-needed shower. I stepped into one of the five filthy bathrooms. The tiled floor was soiled and littered with wet toilet paper.

The state of the bathroom was the thing I hated most about living here. Choosing the least disgusting stall, I stripped and stepped under the scalding hot cascade after making a mental note to have a word with Tiffany. She was Tyler’s sister and, in my opinion, was way too lax in her heavily compensated duty of keeping the club house in order. Recently she had started giving me looks, but I wasn’t going there. The last thing I needed was beef with Tyler.

The sound of the gushing water drowned out every other sound, and if I tried hard enough, even my knowledge of where I was and the danger outside this stall. The prisoner forgets his prison. For that instant, I felt the rough bark of a tree, and smelt the scent of the beauty who let her cheek slither against my chest and opened her legs for me. I saw her amber eyes flashing blood and moonlight as I sent her into the deepest abyss I’d ever seen a woman fall into.

Her response had been unexpected.

Her hands had grabbed my hair so hard she ripped some out. I looked down and saw the reddened scrapes her nails had made across my chest when she’d tried to grasp my shirt. I couldn’t help the smile that lifted the corners of my lips. I was glad she left her mark on my body.