Page 6 of Towles

“Towles,” Manning called. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

I flipped the middle finger and left the hospital. Watcher and Big Kentucky waited by my bike. I looked to the left, where I’d seen a woman watching me earlier. She was gone.

“You whole?” Watcher asked. “Someone came out saying a woman was screaming in the elevator.”

“Fucking horn-dog,” Big Kentucky said. “Look at the wet spot on his crotch. Clean that shit up.”

“You see them?” Watcher climbed on his bike. Every member of the club was different, but Watcher was the most fucked up of the brotherhood. If I wanted to go and get revenge, I could count on him leading the way. Big Kentucky always wanted to do things by the book.

“Both shot in the head.” I straddled the bike and waited. “I need something right now.”

Watcher walked away and made a call.

“We need to get Beast and Diesel out of jail,” Big Kentucky said. “Don’t do what you’re thinking of doing.”

“You would.”

“You’re right, and in those shoes, I’d expect one of you to stop me.” Big Kentucky climbed on his bike. “Fuck, Towles, you’re a good kid. Why fuck it all up doing shit like this?”

I chuckled. “The same reason everyone else does it. We don’t want to be part of society’s puppet show. We want to do things our way, not be part of the status quo.”

“There are two Street Punishers at the bar on Maxwell.” Watcher glanced at Big Kentucky. “It’s on the way to the county jail.”

Big Kentucky shook his head. “We get Beast and Diesel first.”

“Fuck, Kentucky. It’s on the way.”

“Supposed to be a vote.” Big Kentucky started his bike and rolled to the exit.

“Your call,” Watcher said to me.

“We’ll stop if the bikes are there.” I rolled behind Kentucky, and we left the hospital parking lot under Manning’s watchful eyes. Sarah, with an h, stood on the sidewalk. She smiled, but I never saw her again.

Big Kentucky stayed ahead, not paying attention to Watcher and me lagging. As we came upon Hogzz, the biker bar the Street Punishers frequented, we stopped and let Big Kentucky keep going.

“Too many,” Watcher said. “The owner said there were only two.”

“They’ve got the whole fucking club here.” I pulled to the curb and climbed off the bike.

“What the fuck are you doing, Towles?” Watcher jumped off his bike and grabbed my arm. Big Kentucky rolled up, pissed off.

“We ain’t doing this, boys. Get back on your bikes.” Kentucky waited impatiently.

The front entrance opened, and several Punishers exited. Drunk and slurring, the first two fell down the steps. I started forward, and Big Kentucky had his big hand around my arm before I could take three steps.

“You being dead won’t help your parents, Towles. Save this shit for later.” Kentucky pulled me back.

“What the fuck?” The sober of the three Punishers started toward us.

I made it like I was getting on my bike and then turned, hitting the Punisher square in the nose. It took me a moment to realize the loud crunch was his nose and not my hand. The motherfucker dropped at my feet and started spazzing.

The other two Punishers got to their feet, sized me up, and decided it wasn’t a good day to die. They headed back inside for help.

“Get on your fucking bike, Towles,” Kentucky said.

I didn’t want to. I wanted to either kill every fucker in the bar or join my parents. I turned to Kentucky and Watcher. They’d go to war with me if it came to that, but it wasn’t fair to them. I climbed on the damned bike, and we left for the jail.

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