The Junkyard Boys (19 page)

“Put away your weapon, Range.” He finally spoke after what seemed like hours.

“No, I won’t, Buck. Not till you tell me what the fuck is going on. We don’t know this motherfucker from Adam.” Buck didn’t appreciate my disagreeing with him and was quickly regaining his faculties.

“You do what the fuck I say, boy. This is my business, not yours, and I’ll handle it. Now, holster your fucking weapon.” He was so angry, his eyes were bugging out of his head and his nostrils were flaring like a raging bull’s. I’d never seen him so upset before with any of us, but that still didn’t make me want to comply with his wishes. I had to be smart about how I wanted to approach this situation if I wanted to get any answers.

“Alright, you mean old bastard, I’ll step aside and let you handle it, but can you fill us in on what’s going on?” He thought about it for a moment before he decided to answer me, still trying to calm his anger and gather his wits. He took a few deep breaths and spoke to the entire group.

“Psycho was my VP and…my friend. We did everything together, whore around, roust bars, get arrested, and we handled all club business together. We never went out on runs without each other, always had each other’s backs when shit got hot. We were together on that last run before I quit the MC, the one that took everything I had.” He was having trouble telling this part of the story. I knew it from the way his eyes glazed over when he thought about his son’s death and having to leave his club.

“What about the tattoo is so special? How do you know it’s not a trap?” I had to know for sure why he believed this bullshit story.

“Psycho and I were tattooed together, a symbol of brotherhood we chose. It’s hidden. You can only see it if we show it to you. It’s not your everyday tattoo that can be duplicated, and this boy has it. Only Psycho would have shown it to him, which proves his story. I just don’t understand why he never told me he had kids.” I hated seeing that defeated look in his eyes as if this whole thing was his fault or something. His friend was the one who chose to keep it a secret in the first place, and now from the grave he’d made Buck feel like it was his fault.

“He was going to tell you after that last run you both took. He said he always wanted us to meet our Uncle Buck, but once you lost your son, he couldn’t bring himself to flaunt his children in your face, considering you didn’t have yours anymore. I think he regretted that decision until the day he died.” This hardened biker looked just as broken as Buck did over the loss of their friend and father. Loss was something they both had in common, and it was clear it shaped them into the people they were today.

“Yeah, well, I guess it’s too late for regrets now. We all have them, but fuck it.” Buck was reflective but would never show weakness in front of us, even though we knew he was hurting. Clover, always the bleeding heart, had tears streaming down her face as she stood behind the counter, listening to the conversation going on around her. I wanted to hold her in my arms, but it still wasn’t the right time.

“You ok, tootsie baby?” I asked her, and she replied with a head nod and sniffles.

“Yes, it’s just sad that Julian never got to meet his Uncle Buck when his father was still alive.”

“What did you call him?” Buck asked Clover.

“Julian. He told me not to call him Craze since I wasn’t in the life, so that’s what I called him,” Clover answered softly.

“Julian…that motherfucker.” Buck had to hold on to the side of the counter to steady himself as he repeated the name out loud. He had a half smirk on his face, like he was in on a joke none of the rest of us knew.

“Yep, that’s right, you old bastard, he named me after you. Well, your middle name, that is. Thank god, ‘cause Buck is definitely not sexy enough for a man like me.” I was glad to see the mood was shifting to something lighter, considering we’d almost shot each other in the face a few minutes before. I still wanted to kill this bastard, regardless of whose son he was. I didn’t know that motherfucker, so I couldn’t let my guard down. He still hit on my woman and showed up at her house uninvited; that alone was cause for at least an ass whopping. I’d be sure to remind him of our unfinished business once he told us what the fuck he was doing here.

“Now that we got all the pleasantries out the way, what the fuck are you doing here after all this time and why were you looking for Buck?” Enough of this old biker brotherhood bullshit; next we’d be holding hands and singing and braiding each other’s hair. Fuck the dumb shit.

“Ah, I see you’re still pissed ‘cause I pushed up on your girl. Old lady material, that one is, just like I told her.” He flicked his chin to indicate Clover, and I was on the move to rip his fucking balls off. Buck grabbed me by the arm to stop me, but I yanked myself away in time to see him shaking his head at his biker brother.

“Not the time for this shit. Range is right. What are you doing here now?” Buck calmly asked Craze. That fucker had a smirk on his face as if to say, ‘I win this round.’ But it was far from over, I would see to that. He turned to give his full attention to Buck.

“Like I said before, I have a sister. Her name is Mia. She’s a good girl, not in the life. She goes to school, has a part time job, and stays out of trouble. Don’t want this life for her. I promised…I promised my dad I would make sure she had a good life, a happy life.”

“So what’s the fucking problem? She wants to be a club whore or something?” I enjoyed the look on his face as I said it; it was a cross between nausea and panic. Good, motherfucker, take that.

“You watch your fucking mouth.” He pointed his finger in my face as I gave him a triumphant smirk in return.

“My President has claimed her. Plans to make his move soon unless I can stop him. I need that last shipment Buck and my father took down before he left the life. He told me it was a large drug shipment, enough to buy out my President so he doesn’t claim my sister. It’s the only chance I got.” I could almost feel sorry for this asshole…almost.

“You know the rules, Buck. You either kill out, die out, or buy out the life. I can’t kill him and not risk the full brotherhood coming down on both of us. Shit, we wouldn’t last a day and Mia would be in even more danger. I need that shipment to save her. I know it’s been years, but that last score was too large just to have disappeared.” Buck had lowered his head as if the request itself weighed a ton and he was having trouble bearing the force of it all. I looked over to Clover and saw she was just as weighed down as Buck, knowing this was a long shot.

“Burned it. Burned it all. It’s gone.” Bucks voice was low and pained.

“What? How the fuck could you burn all that shit, you crazy old fuck? I need that shipment!” Craze ended his demand on a yell. His face was blood red and he was having trouble catching his breath, like someone with asthma. It was over. He’d lost.

“That shit killed my son, motherfucker. MY SON! You’re fucking right I burned it, all of it, down to the last ounce. My boy is dead because of that shit, so save your fucking anger for someone who gives a flying fuck. I lost my entire reason for living that night and I care fuck all about it being gone.” Buck was done. He said his piece and was back to the cold-hearted bastard he’d always been. He didn’t blink an eye as he basically shattered all hope for Craze to save his sister from becoming the property of his MC President. Life was about sacrifice, he once said. Craze would learn this as we all had and would in the future.

Clover

Heartbreaking. It was the only word I could use to describe the situation that was unfolding before me. Sebastian and I were merely spectators to this event, with front row seats to a soul-sucking championship fuck fest. Pain and anger were evident in each of these men. Knowing loss and sorrow made them brothers in arms. I wanted to hold them, comfort them, ease their burdens, but no amount of sympathy can erase years of anguish.

I learned a great deal from watching these men as I stood behind my perch at Fosters’. One can often learn much from just listening to the way different people interact, and today was no different. I learned that Range would do anything to protect me, regardless of the consequences. Like my father before him, he didn’t flaunt his strength, but it would appear out of nowhere in time of need. He worked hard to be different; different from the dirty boy who only knew hunger and misery. He loved his junkyard brothers, and together they
formed an unbreakable unit bound by the teachings of a man who’d lost everything.

From Buck I learned regret was something that never left you, no matter how much good you do to make up for it. Careless actions caused Buck to lose his son, but kindness gained him several more; not of his blood, but sons nonetheless. Buck instilled all the virtues to his boys they lived by today: honor, loyalty, strength, and togetherness. He was the glue that kept them together and the father figure each one of them needed to become men. His regret made him feel unworthy, but his actions made him a father.

From Julian I learned that promises made are more important than self-preservation. Killing would have been an easy route for a hardened biker, but not at the risk of his beloved sister. His life was in jeopardy the minute he hit town and started making threats, but none of that was as important as a promise made to a father who wasn’t around to keep it himself. A hardened biker should know nothing of promises, but this one did, and that made him an honorable man. How difficult it must be to have to choose between his blood family and his biker family.

I didn’t know at the time of my reflection that there would be more suffering, more regret, more anguish, all caused by an armed man who entered Fosters’ with the intent to kill. He didn’t yell, he didn’t warn, and he didn’t miss
.

Range

It was time to end this bullshit standoff and get the fuck outta here. Buck said his piece. He didn’t have what Craze was looking for, so as far as I was concerned, there was no need to stand around rehashing old times. He was going to have to figure out another way to save his sister that didn’t involve a payoff. Hopefully, he had a plan B. The only thing I wanted to do was hold my woman in my arms and get her home, where she was safe.

The door to Fosters’ whipped open so hard the glass shattered on impact. I looked over my shoulder just in time to see that biker we’d rousted for information pointing his gun at Clover, blood still oozing from his nose where I’d punched him, and he was favoring his left knee where my kick had left it shattered. I’d never believed that bullshit about your life flashing before your eyes when you’re about to die or that things appear in slow motion. I was wrong on both accounts, ‘cause right now, I felt like I was stuck in the fucking Matrix.

“Get the fuck down!”

Craze shouted as he leapt over the counter and tackled Clover to the ground as the first shot rang out. She let out a piercing scream as Craze’s solid body landed on top of her, shielding her from the gunshots at the same time pulling out his piece to return fire.

Sebastian threw himself behind a nearby table that was torn to pieces when the shooter blasted it with at least three rounds before he turned his gun on me. I looked right down the barrel of that gun. It was like looking down one of the tunnels you see a train going through. It seemed larger than life, and with a weird sense of calm, I prepared my mind for the explosion my body was sure to take. But that explosion never came. As two more shots rang out, Buck threw me to the floor with such strength I crashed onto the solid foundation, dislocating my shoulder. At the same time he took aim and shot the biker right between the eyes, both of them going down in a stream of smoke and blood. Buck rolled onto his back and expelled all the air from his lungs, while his arms lay limp by his sides. I crawled over to him, dragging my dislocated shoulder with me, as Sebastian ran over from his spot behind the shot-up table. I placed Buck’s head on my lap as Sebastian removed his shirt, pressing it against the two bullet wounds spewing blood from Buck’s chest.

“Don’t you fucking die on me, old man.” I held his hand tight. Blood pooled in his mouth as he tried to speak.

“Love you…son…take care…my boys.” Buck’s eyes rolled to the back of his head, his chest expanded one last time, and he took his last dying breath as I cradled his head to my chest.

“Noooooo!” Sebastian wailed as he draped his body across Buck and held him close while still pressing his shirt to his bloodied chest, attempting to stop the flow of blood and save Buck’s life. I was only partially aware of things happening around me. My ears felt like they were stuffed with cotton and my vision was so blurry I could barely see Sebastian, who was right in front of me. I felt a strong arm on my shoulder and shouting in my ear but couldn’t make out who it was.

“Range, what the fuck happened? Range, can you hear me? Range, wake the fuck up!” I finally noticed that Fox, who must have run in from the tattoo parlor, carrying a sawed-off shotgun in one hand and a pistol in the other. He was leaning down, shouting at me to get my shit together, but I couldn’t move, couldn’t think, couldn’t believe.

“It was a robbery, do you hear me? It was a robbery, Range, nothing more. Repeat it, damn it.”

Fox was trying to control the scene before the cops arrived and started asking questions. He knew Buck and I were onto something, and he didn’t want any of us to go down for murder, so I repeated the statement.

“It was a robbery, nothing more.”

“Good, that’s good, it was a robbery, nothing more. He busted in, shooting up the place, looking to steal the money from the till. You and your friends were here picking up your girl and got caught in the crossfire. Do you understand, Range? Repeat it, damn it.”

He was shaking my shoulders, trying to get me to snap out of my stupor, but I could only shake my head in his direction so he knew I got it. I could hear sirens quickly approaching, more screams as the Fosters returned to the store from running errands, onlookers shouting and pointing at the dead bodies littering the floor in pools of blood. Then I saw it, the image that caused me to come alive and move into action. Craze was moving from behind the counter, carrying a limp Clover in his arms. Her hair was swaying and her head and arms were limp as he stepped toward the front of the store, carrying her. Blood was oozing from her head and shoulder. She wasn’t moving and her breathing was shallow.