“Dragon, you ready for this?” Slider stepped up next to me.
“The fuck kind of question is that?” I asked him, but I was actually a little glad he came over. It gave me a little more backbone, and my chin lifted a little higher.
We walked out of the main room and headed into an empty garage bay. All the brothers circled around with Slider, Grease, and me in the middle. I looked over to Grease, wondering what the fuck he was doing when Slider started to speak.
“Dragon here’s been lying to his brothers for five long years. He not only disrespected Poet, but then he hid the disrespect, so Poet had to find out five years later. Grease also knew about shit and never spoke up. Poet, Tommy Gun, Razor, and myself had us a little meeting this morning and decided their punishment. While Dragon was the one who fucked Brenna, Grease did his part in this little fiasco and helped him hide it. Each one of you gets one hit. Bare hands. I’m not taking part, but Poet goes last. Make them good, and all of you remember this. I won’t be so lenient if I have to deal with this shit again.”
I was stunned silent for a minute that the punishment was gonna go so easily, but then everything clicked, and I realized Grease was still standing next to me, and the other brothers were lining up.
“Boss! Wait!”
Slider slowly turned around.
“Grease shouldn’t be here. He fuckin’ warned me, but I didn’t listen. He’s fuckin’ stupid, but he shouldn’t be up here.”
Slider stared at me a second, and then I watched his lips turn up. “You gonna take his punishment? I promised my boys two hits, not one.”
I didn’t even hesitate. “I’ll take it—”
Grease finally looked up at me. “Don’t do this, man. It’s fine.”
“Get the fuck outta here. But you hit me? I’ll knock you the fuck out.” I gave him a little shove. Still really fuckin’ happy that this shit wasn’t what I’d been thinking. I had one more thing to say, and I found Poet in the crowd. “No hits to the face, yeah? Don’t wanna freak Trix out when I go home tonight.” I held his stare until he nodded, and then I faced the boys and braced myself.
By the time there were only a few brothers left, I was seriously thinking I’d underestimated the punishment. I also figured out why Slider had smiled when I decided to take Grease’s hits. The sneaky fucker had set me up. My ribs were on fire, and I’d already puked my fuckin’ guts out twice. The second time, I had nothing left, and the dry heaves almost made me pass out. It was hard to not fight back when fuckers are hitting you over and over again, especially when you lived your life fighting your way to the top. After the first ten brothers, I’d pretty much blocked everything out, except breathing and staying on my feet, and at that point, I wasn’t even halfway through. By the last ten, I was fighting to stay conscious.
Finally, I caught a glimpse of Poet coming toward me, pushing brass knuckles onto his hands. I thought I muttered, “Oh fuck,” before he knocked my ass out.
I was out for a while, and when I woke up, the boys had dragged me into my room at the club. Doc came in to see me, but I was pretty much out of it, so I just lay in bed for a few hours, glad I was still breathing. Finally, I got up, took the most excruciating shower of my life, and went out to have a drink with the boys. That was the best thing about this club and something I’d always craved growing up. You might fuck up, but the brothers wouldn’t ever act like you weren’t welcome. They’d punish you, but then it’d be over, forgotten. You’d be back in the fold. After getting passed from one home to another, whenever I got too hard to handle growing up, the Aces were like a sanctuary.
Later that night, I walked over to Brenna’s place. I didn’t take my bike. Figured I’d give my ribs a rest for the night. The house was glowing, and I could hear some music playing. The front door was open, and before I opened the screen, I caught a glimpse of Brenna and Trix dancing around the kitchen. I felt my breath catch, and it was as if someone had his hand around my throat.
The table was pushed against the wall, and two of the chairs were in the middle of the living room. The music was loud, and they didn’t notice me as I stood there, watching them. Brenna was wearing a little white tank top and a long skirt. Her shirt rested high enough, and her skirt was low enough that I caught a glimpse of her tattoo spanning her waist below her belly button. I loved seeing my name there even if she liked to pretend the tattoo wasn’t for me. By the way her tits were bouncing around, I knew she didn’t have a bra on. Her tits were fantastic, but the look on her face is what had me stopped and staring. Her cheeks were stretched in the most gorgeous fuckin’ smile. It lit up the fuckin’ room.
I hadn’t seen that smile in five years.
She was swinging her hips around, but Trix was like a tornado. She was bouncing up and down and pausing with the beat of the music. She had some little cartoon pajamas on, and her wet hair was whipping around her face. She’d obviously just taken a bath. Looking at her, I still couldn’t believe how much she looked like me, but now, I saw she had Brenna’s smile. It was the most carefree I’d seen my baby girl since she’d gotten here.
Once the song sped up, they were both spinning around in the kitchen. Brenna’s red hair and Trix’s black hair were flying out in all directions as they danced. I caught a glimpse of their feet, and both of them were stomping on the cracked linoleum with the beat of the music. It reminded me of the powwows I was dragged to as a kid. I remembered an auntie telling one of my cousins to make sure her feet hit the dirt with every beat of the drum. Trix’s rhythm was crazy good for a four-year-old. She had that shit down. It was like they knew exactly what the other one was doing at all times as they twirled around each other in the tiny-ass kitchen. Their eyes were locked.