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CHAPTERTEN
Outlaw
"And here I thought we would never hear from the Italian Mafia boss again," I say to Hawk. We are the only ones at the club house, but it won't be like this for long.
"Why? You gave the guy a hell of a night. Of course, he was going to think of you first when he needed something else done for him. What does he want this time?"
"He wants us to escort a shipping container. One of the instructions was we should be armed." I am smiling as I know what Hawk's reaction is going to be.
"Hell yeah," he says with a grin and stands. "I am going to wipe my gun while you get more ammo. Seems we will be needing more."
"He didn't say we were going to be in a gun fight. Just that we should be ready in case of an attack."
"That’s an even better reason to bring more ammo," he shouts from the exit leaving me smiling.
Hawk is a family man. He has a wife and three children, two of whom are already out in the world making things happen. The third one is starting college in the fall. He brought them all up with the MC as his major source of income. He is the reason I believe in the growth of the club and that one day, our name will be known all around US and maybe the rest of the world for a good cause.
"Hey, Outlaw," Jim greets as he walks straight to the counter. It hits me that Jim’s life is based on a routine. Show up at work at 3 pm, work till late night, sleep for a bit, go for a morning shift in a local restaurant. It’s the same thing for him every day. That’s gotta be boring.
"Hey, what would you say about a road trip tomorrow?" I ask. Jim's face suddenly brightens.
"Yeah, of course, sure. When? Shit, you already said tomorrow. Sorry, I am just too excited. To where?"
"Escorting what I am assuming are weapons or drugs to a mafia compound," I respond firmly as I walk towards the counter.
"You've got to be shitting me. Since when do you guys do such stuff?"
"All the time. So, what do you say? You will be riding with me."
"To a mob boss’s compound with a probability of a fight. I am in," he says happily. I can't help but chuckle as I watch him restlessly sort the glasses. He’s really excited.
"It will be fun. I got you, bruh."
"Thank you but just so you know, if something bad happens to me, that's on you." He point his finger at me.
Nothing will happen to him, I’ll make sure of it. I just want to get him to see something other than these four walls.
"Got that. Now pour me the usual."
"You still owe me four glasses. And also, the one you broke.” He snorts as he pours me a whiskey.
I delve in my back pocket and hand him a hundred dollar bill.
"Thank you. At least it's never hard with you,” he says.
"What do you mean?" Concern is evident in my voice.
"I mean, you always pay when I remind you. With some, well, a few of the bikers sometimes refuse to pay saying they didn't drink the amount I am telling them they did. Some say this whole arrangement is shit and you should have just stuck with the old one."
"That's Knuckles, isn't it?"
"I said a few."
"Next time, don't pour alcohol for anyone with a debt. If they insist, call me or tell them to come find me.”
"Okay. As long as I don't get my ass beat up."
"No one is going to touch you."
