Page 3 of Brick

Two

Six years later…

The diner wasfull of loud teenagers, happy about high school graduation but not yet awake to the reality of finding jobs and making a future. Brick and Taz sat in their usual corner booth. Both of them had shed their robes and cardboard square hats just as soon as they could after the ceremony. Both now wore their cuts, showing the Dragon Runners logo on the back and that they were official prospects. Deuce had dropped out last year, not seeing the point of trying to finish school since he was failing anyway. He had been allowed to prospect early and was now an official Dragon Runner, going on regular runs and earning a paycheck from the club. Normally, age eighteen was the age to prospect, but in Deuce’s case, they made an exception at Blackjack’s request.

On Monday, Brick would start full-time at his father’s garage and custom bike shop. Isaac also worked there, but he was a full member of the Dragon Runners and spent a lot of time on club business. He still lived at the house with Brick and their father. Luke and Jonah both left to go their own ways as soon as they graduated and seldom visited or even called. Brick thought they simply weren’t interested in maintaining any family connections. Jesse said it was because of how the club made its money. Brick wasn’t privy to all the ins and outs of how it worked, but members got paid for transporting drugs, weed, guns, and other illegal stuff across state lines. He suspected they had a deal with some people in the sheriff’s office to look the other way, but not every deputy was on board. They still had to keep their activities under the radar. The Runners rode to Tennessee, Pennsylvania, Ohio, South Carolina, and Georgia with full saddlebags of whatever deal Jesse and Blackjack brokered. Most of it was weed coming across the border from Mexico, but lately, white bricks of cocaine had been showing up. They were stored at the clubhouse, which was an old hunting cabin close to Fontana Lake. The building was old and had no heat save for a wood-burning stove, but since it was hard to get to, it was a good place to store whatever was being transported. Not all the members were thrilled with this, but it put a huge amount of money in everyone’s pockets.

“Hear Walrus an’ Scottie got into it last week over the run. Said Ratchet took too many chances on the Tail, playing chicken with the tourists, riding crazy, and catching the sheriff’s eye a little too close.”

Brick peeled the paper from a plastic straw and stuck it into his milkshake. Beer drinking would come later at the clubhouse. Last week, Ratchet made a run into Tennessee carrying two saddlebags of cocaine. Brick calculated that load would have a street value of close to forty thousand, and if Ratchet expected to keep making money from that run, he needed to tone it down. As a prospect, Brick was on probation pending his first run, and he was nervous about it. He got a sick feeling in his gut whenever Isaac or one of the other Runners loaded up and left. Jesse said he would get used to it. Brick wasn’t so sure.

“Ratchet’s a dumb fuck. Jesse’s thinkin’ ’bout pullin’ him from the Tail and puttin’ him on the Moonshiner 28. Longer route to Georgia, but fewer people to worry ’bout.”

“You’d think he’d figure out that shit after what happened last summer to Roman.”

Brick grunted and slurped up some frothy whipped cream. Walrus’s only son took one chance too many on the Tail and lost. Big-time. Roman had been showing off for a girl he had on the back of his bike, not on a run for the club, when it happened. He crossed over the line in a screaming hairpin curve right into the grill of a semi. Neither lived. Walrus had no choice but to have his son cremated as the body was in too many pieces to put back together.

Roman wasn’t the first Runner to lose his life on the Tail, and he wouldn’t be the last. Brick hated that part of the club life. Being a Dragon Runner was all he ever dreamed about growing up, but the risks were high in making that choice. Still, he wondered from time to time if there was another way to ride free without risking it all.

Taz took a big bite of the burger in front of him and shoved the mass to his cheek while he spoke. “Jesse talked about setting up the runs with two bikes for safety. One Runner and one prospect. Blackjack is arguing that’s too visible. Two or more colors running means a higher chance of getting stopped.”

Brick took another big sip of his shake and scratched under his chin. Graduation meant no dress code, and he could grow the mustache and beard he’d always wanted. “Blackjack argues over anything these days. Don’t matter what it is, if Jesse says blue, he says red.”

“I’m making my first run next week ridin’ with Bear. I’m kinda nervous ’bout it, but I need the money.”

Brick blinked at his friend’s thoughtful face. “What’s goin’ on?”

Taz looked up from his food. “Tambre’s pregnant, an’ Bear wants me to do right by her.”

Brick huffed a laugh and stole a french fry from Taz’s plate. “Hell, man, Bear will kill you before the Tail does for knockin’ up his girl.”

Taz and Tambre had been together since middle school, so it wasn’t a surprise that they would stay together after graduation.

“I told Bear I’m patchin’ her as soon as I’m a full member. I think he’s trying to patch me quicker so’s I get a member’s share an’ can afford to put a ring on her finger too.”

Brick huffed again and stole another fry. Old ladies were like wives in the club, but there were members who still opted for an official marriage in addition to putting a patch on their women. Brick didn’t see the point, as once you were committed, it was supposed to stick for a lifetime, but he respected his brothers for their choices. There was only one woman he would consider patch-worthy, and she’d had little or nothing to do with him for years. His virginity became history a year or so ago at the hands of an older club bunny. His father hadn’t said much about it other than to toss a line of condoms at him and tell him to “wrap it up first.” He had sampled several other women who came to the clubhouse for that purpose but hadn’t indulged since he found out a woman he’d brought to his bed had also been with Deuce. He supposed that shouldn’t bother him, but it did.

Somebody upstairs must have heard Brick’s thoughts and decided to play a prank. The door to the diner suddenly ripped open and Deuce walked in. He raised his hands in the air and shouted, “Hey, you graduated sons of bitches! Welcome to the rest of your suck-ass lives.”

Deuce strode in like he owned the place, his black motorcycle boots clomping loudly as he barreled through the crowd of people who’d once been his schoolmates. They scurried to get out of his way. Most of them made it; however, one person ended up colliding with him.

Betsey bobbled the full tray of dirty dishes, trying to balance the heavy load. Brick frowned as he watched Deuce grin and knock his elbow upward just enough to send the tray crashing to the floor. They had been enemies since middle school, Deuce relentlessly teasing Betsey about her large breasts, ass, hair, secondhand clothes, and whatever else he could think of. She ignored him mostly, but once in a while she let loose. Brick recalled the time in the ninth grade when Deuce chased Betsey around the cafeteria with a red Solo cup, shouting, “Milk, milk.” That was one of the few times she fought back, picking up a carton of the liquid from a random table and throwing it at him. Both were suspended for a day, and when they came back to school, Brick punched his friend in the nose and earned his own suspension.

Betsey squatted to pick up the broken plates and cups and load them on the round tray. Her short skirt made her position awkward as it stretched tight over her generous behind. She said nothing, but she wore a thunderous expression.

Deuce laughed. “Oops, better be more careful. No tips for you, sweetheart.”

Taz said something, but Brick was miles away, his attention on Betsey. She had graduated tonight as well, but instead of celebrating the milestone in her life, she’d traded in her cap and gown for her pink waitress uniform and was serving her fellow graduates. She had worked at Moses’s Diner for several years now and had served Brick and his buddies more than once. Brick couldn’t recall seeing her family at the graduation ceremony. The times he had tried to talk to her during their middle and high school years, she had run away, tongue-tied and red-faced. He had debated on whether this was because of his association with the motorcycle club, she didn't like him, or she was just plain shy. The interactions they'd had were few, but he had learned a lot from his observations. She was the oldest child and spent most of her free time either working or watching her younger siblings after school. Her father ruled the household with an iron fist, and Betsey had little social life during their school years. No parties, no movies, no football games, no dances, nothing a normal teenage girl would do during her time in school. Brick’s bullshit barometer rose high when he got a rare glimpse of the whole family out and about in the town. At one time he thought he should just give up on ever knowing Betsey as he watched the cute girl grow up, but the crush he had on her was just as strong now as the first time she walked into his middle school classroom.

“Yo, Brick? You listening?”

Brick’s eyes came back to Taz.

“My bike is running rough, and the alignment is off. If I gotta keep up with Bear, I need some work done, but I ain’t got no money right now. Can you help me out?”

Brick forced his thoughts from the girl who was lifting and hauling the heavy tray to the back. “Yeah. Come by the garage tomorrow morning and we’ll get it done.”

“My brothers.” Deuce slid into the booth alongside Taz and slammed both hands on the Formica top. “Waitress! Get me a cheeseburger and fries. Pronto!” He turned to the two other occupants. “Losin’ your cherry next week, Taz. Be lucky if Bear doesn’t smear your ass all over the Tail on account of Tambre’s bun.”

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