Page 57 of Givin' Me Fitz!
“He’s a member now. In fact, he’s our new enforcer. You know him?”
I couldn’t remember assigning Tiny to ever work at Cowpokes as security. Maybe Spider or Ders had done so one of the few times I’d taken some time away?
“Wow. I didn’t know he’d been patched into the club. You know, he worked at Cowpokes over the summer when you were on vacation. He was nice to us, and he made sure we didn’t have any problems with the clients. I liked him.”
I remembered going to see my mom and dad in San Diego last summer. They lived there because of my mother’s COPD. She found a doctor there she liked a lot, so she was doing fine… and then, something hit me! San Diego would be the perfect place to stash Grandpa Middleton.
“Until I can arrange to hide your grandfather, I’ll have you and Grandpa stay with me.”
I was sure it wouldn’t be easy to acclimate a man without sight to my rugged house, but they needed somewhere to settle so Mr. Middleton could feel comfortable for a while as I tried to find him a better place to stay.
Maybe I could find someone to help him out until I called my parents? I needed to search for my balls and make the call.
“Miri, it’s Bones. How are you? I guess we’ve been missing each other at the clubhouse.”
She laughed. “Cut the bullshit, prez. What’s up? What do you need me to do?”
Miriam Rey and her twin sister, Mina, were examples of the new members I’d brought in who the old guard didn’t approve of. They were lesbians, and they could throw down just like the rest of us assholes. Miri worked for the club full time providing security for the brothels and the dispensary.
Mina owned a landscaping business that serviced the southwest valley and was damn popular. I’d helped Mina with big jobs a time or two when they were short-h anded, and they were great to work for.
Mina was married to a nice woman, Gina, who owned her own hair salon in one of the multiservice buildings that were cropping up around Vegas like those orange street cones. Mina’s wife trimmed my hair, and I liked her a lot.
Miri had been single until recently when she began dating a woman I was yet to meet, though Miri seemed happier than she had for a while. The old-timers would say shit about just needing to meet a good man and get stuffed with his sausage, which pissed her off. I was grateful she didn’t beat them to death in the middle of the clubhouse.
Both women were huge assets to the club, which was why I called Miri for help.
“You know anyone who can help a sightless old man get accustomed to his new surroundings? He’s staying with me for now out of necessity, but I’m going to get him somewhere more permanent soon. I just need him to feel safe in my home.”
I’d been back in Pahrump for three days, and I’d only spoken to Fitz a couple of times. He was on a hunt with three of his coworkers and didn’t have much downtime. That was fine—but it really wasn’t. I missed him something awful.
“Uh… Oh, yeah, Bones. My girlfriend’s mother is a retired home health nurse. Let me ask Tanya if Mrs. Kowalski can help you out. I’ll get back to you.” We ended the call with a friendly goodbye, and I walked back into the house.
TJ had gone for a run up into the mountains because he was more than determined to fight in a week. I wasn’t sure if that was the right step, taking into consideration what had happened at his grandfather’s house a few days earlier, but if he was planning to fight and we played it right, the club could win an assload of money to make up for the money I believed the Scorpions stole from us.
Mr. Middleton was busy listening to an audiobook about endangered species, so I decided to make the call to my parents I’d been putting off. Asking for one favor was a lot, but asking for two wasn’t something I’d ever done before.
I went out the back door of my place and sat at the old patio set I brought back from the Windmill house when I bought the new one for Fitz. As I took in the sight of the backyard, it hit me that Fitz’s yard was a lot nicer than mine. Of course, that was my fault. I bought the firepit and a new table and chairs for the Windmill house, not for my house.
Sitting at the rickety metal table with a soft breeze blowing my hair, my mind wandered. What if I wasn’t the president of the Pahrump Steel Cowboys? What would I want to do with my life?
I loved my club and would be loyal to them as long as I drew breath. My brothers were my family, and we’d been able to modify our bylaws from what my father and grandfather had hoped the club would be to what we saw it becoming in the future.
We’d agreed to being a more inclusive club, welcoming people from every walk of life. Every gender. Every orientation. Without judgement or harassment.
When we revised our bylaws after I became the president, we sent them to our mother and sister clubs, expecting the pushback we’d received. Thankfully, my dad and mom fought with us, my father reaching out to the other clubs and calling in favors—though, he would never confirm that he did—the other clubs finally accepted us as associates, extending their protection to us and expecting ours in return.
Things seemed to be going well for us—up until the night TJ went to the Blue Diamond Casino to meet with that slimy promoter. That seemed to be the minute everything started going downhill.
I hated that I wasn’t sure I could count on the Rough Riders or Satan’s Stallions for support. We hadn’t called on them for help, and a part of me wondered if they’d even honor the agreement if we did. If they didn’t, I wasn’t sure what the hell we’d do. The pressure of protecting the club was like an anvil on my head, Road Runner-style.
Did I ever see myself leaving the club and working a legit job? At the beginning, hell no. The Cowboys were my life. Lately, though, I couldn’t say.
I had an associate degree in nursing from the Army as a licensed practical nurse, though I currently didn’t have a license to work in Nevada. It wasn’t impossible to get it, but I hadn’t seen the need for it if I was only going to be treating club members. Was I really thinking about this, stepping down from the presidency?
I’d been damn lucky so far by not getting arrested for anything I’d done for the club, so I didn’t have a police record, which had been a huge help in obtaining the license for the dispensary. I could go back to school and take a refresher course and get my nursing license without any issues, but would I be happy working in the medical field?
I’d never leave the club as long as they stayed on the right side of the law, but if I stepped down as president, that would be out of my control, wouldn’t it? If the members decided to resume some of the shit they used to do before I was voted in—collecting road taxes from the small businesses in Pahrump; hijacking freight trucks and fencing the cargo; distributing illegal drugs, which would cost them their dispensary license; and shit I didn’t want to think about—I was sure Fitz would walk away fromme.
