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“Fuck, I thought Rambo would be the one bringing me in.” I knew I was going to have to answer for my crimes, but I thought the longer I went without punishment, the likelihood of it actually happening would get slimmer. It was a pipe dream. I should have known that Cowboy would hold off until I had this false sense of security.
“I asked Prez if I could bring you in. I knew you would need to hang around long after, and Rambo has big kid responsibilities these days.” Zombie explains with a shudder. How a man like him works with children on a day-to-day basis when he can’t even talk about our brothers having families without shuddering like kids are the most terrifying thing in the world still baffles me.
“So I shouldn’t bring all my shit with me, is what you are saying.” I don’t even bother grabbing my helmet or anything before heading out the door again. There was no point in trying to delay the inevitable. I know what’s coming, and I’ve accepted the fact that this was always my reality. I just hoped that it wouldn’t be. When I step out onto the landing, I feel his eyes on me. Instead of putting me on edge, it brings a small sense of comfort and the arousal from earlier back to my body. I know who is watching me, and while it’s a new feeling, I know that I already like it. I am not sure how to explain it. I lock my door and start walking down the stairs with my brother following close behind me.
Getting to the parking lot, we make our way to his truck, and once inside, he drives me to my fate.
The ride to Church was quiet and tense. I know Zombie is going to have to watch me get my ass handed to me. He wouldn’t be required to get hits in. Technically, this was all on Cowboy and Rambo as they are the President and Enforcer for the club. I could tell that he wanted to make it better but knew that he couldn’t. I messed up. I went against direct orders and went around our Prez to get the results I felt was best for the club. Even though I was right, like I am most of the time, I still need to show Prez the respect he is owed.
I get out of the truck, and Prez is standing there waiting for me. His arms are crossed, and he has a look of disappointment painted on his face. I don’t even bother trying to go up to Church. What’s the point? I head right into the back of the barn. I’m ready to take my place at the ring, and there is a shuffling of steps that follows me.
“Knuckles,” Prez’s voice booms out, and I turn to face him. “I am here to take you to the ring. The charges that are against you are as follows; disrespecting me as your Prez by ignoring a direct order. You worked with someone that was, at the time, viewed as no longer an ally to this club. You helped that person gain information that was considered club business. You went around my orders by going to a founding member to get the result that you wanted. Do you want to run this club?” Cowboy yells at me.
“No, sir,” I answer as I look him right in the eye.
“Did I say you could talk? No, I didn’t. You are here to be disciplined, not answer questions we already know the answer to!”
I feel a brother pull me back toward the ring. Before cuffing my hands to the ring, my cut is removed, and my shirt is shredded. The crisp November air causes my nipples to pucker slightly and goosebumps to erupt on my exposed skin. My arms are then pinned over my head and cuffed to the ring. My eyes never leave Cowboy. My Prez. I knew he would be the one to dole out this punishment. Whereas most times, when a brother goes against club rules, it would be our Enforcer. It’s why I expected to see Rambo, but this became personal for Cowboy when he learned what I did.
I understood.
I fucked up. I did something no one loyal to the club would ever do. But I also knew that Cowboy was wrong. I couldn’t come out and tell him that. I had to show him that Copper was an asset that we needed. Copper managed to do that all on his own eventually, given he is now a patched member of this club.
My thoughts about what I did and why are immediately forgotten as Cowboy’s fist meets my stomach. I instantly feel like I’m going to lose the stagnant coffee festering in my gut, but I choke it down. The next strike at my ribs is more bruising, but on the third strike, I feel my ribs dislodge from the socket. I am sure if my eyes were open, everything would be triplicated. I feel dizzy. I become more nauseous as the fourth strike hits me in the gut on the other side of my rib cage.
There was a small moment of relief when the punching stopped. I thought maybe it was four hits for four counts of discretion, but that was shattered when I received three fast strikes to my right kidney. I feel like a punching bag at this point. I refuse to open my eyes. It’s the only control I have over my stomach and the rolling in my head that I’m feeling. I can hear the shuffling of feet again before the four strikes on my left kidney and my already broken ribs. I start to choke on the vomit struggling to come up my gullet. It’s getting harder and harder to breathe. The constriction and swelling around my ribs are pushing on my lungs. I can’t take a deep enough breath to control my gag reflex anymore. With one more punch to my stomach, I spew all over myself. There’s not enough momentum behind it to nail the Prez or anyone else, for that matter. While I know why I am getting this beat down, while I understand and accept it, I would have loved some small vindication of puking on him for the constant gut punches.
“Clean him up,” Cowboy says as he huffs like he’s out of breath.
I opened my eyes when I could no longer control my breathing. Even though they’re open now, I don’t see anything other than feet as my head hangs down. I am jostled around while getting cleaned and eventually released from the ring. Everything around me goes fuzzy. I can’t hear clear voices. It all becomes static before they all fade out to nothing.
I come to on the kitchen table in the big house. Elvira and Abilene are huddled around me. They roll me from side to side as they wrap my ribs—making sure that they’re tight and secure. It hurts, and I can’t control my need to fight them off. While in my mind, I know they are helping me, I can’t physically stop myself.
“Calm down, my boy.” I hear Abilene chastise me.
“It fucking hurts!” I yell out, and when I look at her, she gives me that look of ‘I don’t right out care.’
“Sit up so we can wrap you better and faster then.” she snarks. She pulls me up like I weigh nothing. I mean, the woman is married to Butcher. It makes sense she would need to be a beast in some sense. I am a whole person bigger than her, and she tosses me around like a sack of potatoes.
“Knuckles, raise your arms a little, love. We will finish wrapping you, and Zombie can take you home for the kitties. I am sure they are hungry,” Elvira talks to me in her soothing, mothering voice. Trying to get me to think about something other than the pain that I am in.
“Zombie told us that you took a few good shots to the kidneys. We need to make sure there’s no bleeding. So, if you see any blood, you boogie on back here, and we will come up with a plan of action.”
“Are you sure you don’t need me to walk you up?” My best friend eyes me as we sit in the truck. It’s easy to tell this is killing him. I know my best friend. He wants to take the pain away from me and make it so I don’t have to go through this anymore. I know that he is trying to alleviate the pain by helping me, but I put myself in this position.
“I’ll be fine. It’s one flight of stairs. The ladies gave me some pain meds. I’m gonna just sleep away tomorrow, okay?” I try to give him an encouraging smile, but I know that he sees right through it. He knows me well enough to know that I won’t back down and just nods his head in agreement. I didn’t like people seeing me as weak. I’ve worked my whole life to show that I am more than what people assumed of me. I know he is my brother, and he will care for me no matter what, but I still needed to put this show on for myself.
Even though it hurts like a bitch, I take as deep of a breath as I can before I grab the handle of the truck. I give him a small wave and carefully navigate myself out. I’m thankful that it’s high enough that I can slip out and don’t have to climb out if I were in a car.
It takes me a little while to get to the main door of the complex. Everything hurts and walking only amplifies the beating I took earlier. I hang out there, waiting for Zombie to pull away. When the coast is clear, I start to make my way up the steps. Halfway up there, I start feeling dizzy and unsteady. I try to take a deep breath, which only causes pain, and push myself forward. Only a few steps between me and my front door.
I take another step, and as my foot misses the landing, I can’t stop myself from crashing down. Thankfully, I am high enough that my head doesn’t hit a step, but my ribs fucking did, and I can’t stop the scream that comes out of me even if I wanted to.
Breathe. Breathe. Fucking breathe!
I can’t. I fucking can’t. I fall to my back. I don’t know if I’m going to be able to get up and get into my apartment now. If my ribs weren’t broken before, they have to be now. Fuck! My eyes shut tight as I try to will the pain away.
“Hey! Hey. Are you okay? What happened?”
