Page 91 of Sweet Pea

“You like it? I wore it just for you,” I seethed.

Stick to the script, stupid. Don’t let him rattle you.

“We’re unarmed. I trust you are as well,” Minus said.

“That would make you too trusting,” Wolf said, and his two sidemen pulled their guns.

“What is this shit, Wolf?” Minus growled. “You know we still have the backing of Los Psychos and the other three clubs. We came here to talk peace. If you ice us, it’ll be full scale war.”

“Relax,” Wolf said. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead already. I’m just making sure you can’t sneak up on me like you did back at the clubhouse.”

“This is fucked up,” Clutch said.

“Trunk and Vega here are gonna search you and your van for weapons. Once I know you’re clean, Road Rash and I can have our little chat,” Wolf said, motioning to me. “But first, we’ve gotta make sure you haven’t hidden anything in the wheelchair.”

Trunk and Vega handed their pistols to Wolf, who pointed them at Clutch and Minus, before gabbing me by the arms and pulling me out of the chair. Searing pain shot down my spine and I groaned uncontrollably in helpless agony as they held me up.

“You motherfuckers!” Clutch yelled.

“Come on, Clutch. You can’t really blame me for being cautious, can you?” Wolf asked, tucking one pistol in his waistband while keeping a bead on him and Minus with the other. With his free hand, Wolf examined the wheelchair before moving on to me. “You don’t have any nasty surprises tucked anywhere in that gown, do you?”

Wolf began patting me down, pressing and poking any bandaged area he found along the way. The pain would have dropped me to my knees had Wolf’s goons not been holding me up, and I cried out as he dug his thumb into my battered ribcage.

“I swear to God, Wolf, let him go or you’re gonna regret it,” Minus said, but Wolf paid him no mind, continuing his torturous frisk until I was almost unconscious from the pain.

Finally, Wolf said, “Okay, he’s clean. Let him go,” and the two did just that, allowing me to drop to the ground like a stone.

“Pea!” Minus shouted.

I lay on the ground in a crumpled heap as the two Spiders searched the van before returning to Wolf.

“It’s clean,” Trunk said.

“Alright, the two of you get him back into his chair and I’ll wheel him over there,” Wolf said, pointing to an unpaved area of the lot near a large walnut tree. “Then I want you two to take Midol and Crotch back to their cripple-mobile and keep an eye on them.”

“What was all that bullshit about tossing your weapons?” Minus asked.

“You’re an educated man, Minus. Who was that playwright that said that shit about “If you show a gun in the first act, you’d better use it in the second?”

“Was it suck my Longfellow?” Clutch said.

“Longfellow was a poet, not a playwright, but that was really good, buddy,” Minus said.

“It would be a shame if a bullet broke up your little comedy act,” Wolf said, before turning back to me. “Get him up,” he barked, and I was put back into my chair with the same amount of care used when I was taken out if it.

Minus and Clutch were taken back to the van at gunpoint and Wolf wheeled me out to the spot near the tree.

“Maybe it’s time for you and me to bury the hatchet. What do you think?” Wolf asked as we moved along.

The only place you’d put a hatchet is in my back.

“Ain’t that what we’re here for?” I asked.

“I don’t know,” Wolf said. “After all this time, I still can’t quite figure you out.”

“Was running me over some sort of half-assed attempt to study my brain?

“Come on, Sweet Pea,” Wolf said bringing the chair to a stop once we reached the tree. “You’ve got me all wrong. I’m glad you’re alive.”

---