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“Perfect. What are you thinkin’ about the apartment so far?”
“It’s exactly what I’m looking for.” I dig into my pocket and pull out my wallet, take out a stack of hundreds, and count forty-eight hundred dollars in cash for him. “I can’t remember if you’re asking for a security deposit or not.”
Doug shakes his head. “If you’re gonna be workin’ down in my shop, then no. We’ll count this as you bein’ paid up for two months in advance.”
“Perfect.”
“I’d better give you two of these.” Doug grabs the keys to the apartment out of his pocket and takes one key off for him. “Now, I’m not one of them overbearing landlords. If I need to come into the apartment, I’ll let you know, but maintenance-wise, everything is taken care of. When can you start work?”
“Next Monday, that’ll give me enough time to get some of my personal items over here.”
“Great. You already have my number, so text me if you need me. I just need you to come down to the office with me to sign the paperwork for the apartment. Otherwise, you’re good to go.” Larry and I head downstairs and walk into the mechanic shop’s entrance. Once we’re in the office, he hands me the rental agreement, and I read it thoroughly before signing. It is a month-to-month lease, which takes a lot of pressure off my shoulders, knowing I won’t be using the club’s resources to pay for a year’s worth of rent in a place where I likely won’t be for that long. But who am I kidding? It could take a year to pull this whole thing off.
Once I finish with Larry, I tell him I’m sure I’ll see him sometime over the next couple of days. I’ve been staying at a motel, so I ride back over to the motel, and once I’m inside, I call up my father. By the time the phone rings the third time, he’s answering. “Son, how are things goin’ out there?”
“Good. I just got an apartment and a job in the mechanic shop below it. I did pay two months in advance, but I might need more money for rent if I’m here past the two months.”
“If you do, you’ll have it. You’re doing this for the club, so we’ll pay whatever expenses we need to while you’re away. I’m glad you called because there’s something I need to discuss with you.” My father’s voice tone changes into something a bit more serious.
“Sure, what’s up?”
“Some birdies have told me Control plans on meeting with one of the South American cartel leaders very soon. I want you to find out if what I’ve been told is simply someone baiting me or if there’s truth behind it.”
“How have you reacted to the news when whoever it was told you?”
“I said ‘hmmm’. You know I’m never going to let outsiders see my true thoughts. I want to know, though. Control is stirring the pot, and I want to know if he’s creating the clusterfuck I think he is.”
Without a doubt, I know Control is only going to be making a big mess for us to deal with. Although I understand why my father wants facts before he acts in any way. “I need you to find a way into that clubhouse and get inside information, Dion. I don’t think I need to explain the seriousness of the matter.”
“No, Dad. I hear you loud and clear. Don’t worry. I’m going to get this done.” I’m not sure whether I should take his skepticism as a dig or not. Even from him, I’ve felt like I’ve constantly had to prove my worth to the club over the years. I think a big part of that might be because of my mother. She had a habit of causing waves whenever she could, and when I was a young boy, she used me as a pawn many times.
Back then, I let her. All I wanted was a mother’s love, and I craved it. Sure, the other women in the clubhouse did a good job at raising me with my father, but my mother was more concerned with her next drink, whatever drug she was using, or how she could climb her way up the ladder to be my dad’s ol’ lady. She was never going to, though. All she was to him was a good time, but she never realized that. She never accepted the fact it wasn’t going anywhere, and then she crossed the line when my dad finally found happiness not too long ago.
“Have you given any thought to how you’re getting into their clubhouse?” My dad’s really asking me a million-dollar question here.
“I have, and I know you wanna know how I plan on doing it, but let me worry about that. Just be happy once I get it done.”
“I’ll be over the fuckin’ moon when you get it done, but just remember that I’m one phone call away if you need some help.”
“Thanks, Dad. I really appreciate that.” It’s a big deal that I’m out here in Atlanta doing this by myself. Anything I’ve ever done for the club I’ve done with other people, so me doing this on my own is a huge deal. I think it’s really showing my father and brethren that I have what it takes and that I’ve done a lot of growing up over these last couple of years.
“No problem, son. I need to get some shit handled over here, but I’ll text you a bit later.”
“Sounds good. Talk to you then.” We both hang up the phone, and as the call ends with my father, I go to the app where I’ve been chatting with Rebellion.
I know I’m doing this to get in her father’s clubhouse, but fuck if I don’t think she’s an all-right chick. She’s super low-key, beautiful, and has a good head on her shoulders, and those are only the first few things that come to mind. It’s a shame, really, because if she was anyone else, I’d give getting to know her a genuine shot. This is just a job, and it can’t be anything more than that. It never will be.
SIX
Rebellion
Two days later, I had the basic mural sketched out on the newly painted wall.
If I had more time, I’d refine it a bit. But I want to have enough of it done before Control returns so that he won’t be able to force me to cover it up without making it clear that I went against his wishes.
He won’t do that. Not in front of his brand-new business partners, anyway—it would be too obvious that he didn’t have as firm a handle on his people as he likes to pretend.
I might not know all that much about the people he’s gotten the Burning Heretics involved with, but I’m pretty sure they’re connected to the South American cartels.
