Page 70 of Justice for Radar

My trip down memory lane for nostalgia’s sake was interrupted by the roar of pipes. I scanned the roadway and spotted the trio of black and red bikes with dudes similarly kitted out like me and Atlas piloting them to the corner of the lot our bikes occupied.

Atlas walked my way with a couple burgers in one hand and a couple drinks in the other and when he reached me handed me over my food while the dudes from the San Antonio chapter of the Sacred Hearts backed their bikes in.

I took a bite of the burger while I leaned my butt on my bike as the trio dismounted theirs. My eyebrows went up in surprise. Shit was fuckin’ good, no wonder it was crowded.

“Good shit, huh?” the tallest of the three asked. He was an older guy by the liberal silver in his beard. He took off his mirrored aviators and crow’s feet fanned out from the corners of his eyes as he smiled. He was ruggedly tan – likely a full time rider – and I was pretty sure I’d seen him before at a Lake Run – but I couldn’t be sure and didn’t want to presume.

“Real fuckin’ good,” I agreed, guarded. His smile grew and he reached out a hand.

“Name’s Dominion. Boys call me Dom for short. You Atlas or Radar?” he asked. I wiped my hand on my jeans before shaking his.

“Radar,” I declared and I gave a respectful nod.

Dominion was the President of the San Antonio chapter. Interesting that he’d come himself.

“This here is Raptor, and that’s Washout,” he said, jerking his head back over first his right and left shoulders.

Raptor was a taller, but no less compactly built dude like me while Washout was a little leaner but still pretty muscled.

“Nice to meet you guys,” I said, giving each a nod of respect. “Like I said, I’m Radar and this here is my partner Atlas.”

Both of them gave a chin lift in almost unison and I tried not to snort and laugh.

“So, the big dawgs called me up and said y’all needed a buco big bucks kind of favor,” Dominion declared and I was immediately on guard but didn’t doanythingto show it.

“I wanted to come take your measure before we did anything on a kind you’re asking my boys inside to potentially pile on a fuck ton of time to a pair of already long sentences.” He sniffed. “I take care of my own before anything… so what’s the deal? From the horse’s mouth if you like.” He sat down on his bike and I looked around.

“Ain’t nobody here paying our talk any mind,” Washout said and I nodded slowly.

“I have a woman,” I said. “And her piece of shit ex-husband tried to kill her.”

Dominion raised an eyebrow. “I’m going to need more than that.”

I chewed another bite of burger and said, “This is a long story. You sure you don’t want a drink?” I asked.

He looked thoughtful a minute and said, “Washout.”

“Coke?” Washout asked.

“If you please.”

Washout nodded and went and got in line. Atlas passed him twenty bucks as he went to go past him.

“On us,” Atlas declared.

“Thank you kindly,” Dominion said and like me, leaned on his bike.

I took it from the top, the full meal deal as it were – sparing no bit of grit and no ugly detail. He pursed his lips and nodded along, listening carefully, making the odd noise to indicate he was following, that he was still listening, and that he was digesting everything a bite at a time.

His face gave nothing away and finally he said, “Seems to me you might like to make a visit to Huntsville with us and make a few decisions before this justice gets served.”

I cocked my head. “What decisions are those?” I asked not precisely following.

Raptor grinned and said, “Whether you just want this motherfucker to fall down some stairs and die, or whether you want him to go through hell first.”

“What kind of hell?” Atlas asked, his wolfish grin matching Raptor’s.

“Same kind of hell he put your lady through,” Washout declared, pushing a pebble across the blacktop of the parking lot with the toe of his boot.

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