Page 7 of Heart of Stone
“Thanks. I know he cares about me in his weird, Stone way, but it’s just not enough anymore.”
She took hold of both my hands. “Well then, we need to help you find what you’re looking for.”
FOUR
HUNTER
The dusty yellow lamp hanging over the table was making my head hurt, and the tobacco stained walls of the tiny, dirty kitchen were closing in on me, bringing back some of the earlier nausea. I’d known damn well that chasing a painkiller with a couple of beers was going to produce a major buzz, but I didn’t give a fuck. The cards in my hand were a fuzzy blur of red and black, but I could see well enough to know I had a shitty hand. I’d spent my last twenty anyhow. “I’m folding, and I’m out for the night.”
Sully lifted his thin lip in a snarl. He couldn’t have been more than thirty, but he had leathery skin that always looked coated in grit from the road as if he’d been riding his motorcycle down the highway for hours. The asshole always wanted to bleed everyone dry before they left the poker table, but I’d left enough blood on my shirt and front porch this morning. I didn’t have any more to give. And my pockets were empty too.
Fletch, a big doughy guy who could suck down a large supreme pizza in one short sitting, grinned over the top of his cards. “There’s always the pink slip to that sweet HarleyDavidson you have parked out front.”
I placed down my cards and smiled. “Hell, I’d just as soon cut off my right arm and toss it on that pot before putting down that pink slip. I’m out. It’s been a fucked up day, and my head is splitting. Hey, do you mind if I crash on your couch tonight? I’m pretty sure this fog in my head is going to get in the way of me finding my way home.”
“Sure thing, Stone. Just watch the fleas don’t eat you up. I found that couch on the end of a driveway waiting for the garbage man to pick it up. Perfectly good couch, except they must have had a bunch of dogs or something.”
I glanced through to the small front room where the faded couch was pushed up against the cracked wall. “I’m so fucking numb from these painkillers, they can bite away. I won’t even notice them.”
Fletch’s cheeks wobbled with a laugh. As far as I knew the guy was really sketchy and ruthless, but it was hard to see him as anything other than jolly because of those fat cheeks. “You might even kill them with all the chemicals you’ve got in your bloodstream.” He sat back and the metal chair creaked under his weight. “And with that, I’m out too. You boys finish this round and go home, eh? Sun’s going to be up in an hour, and I need some sleep.” The other players grumbled at being kicked out before dawn.
Slade had been right. They really were at the bottom of the human chain, especially Sully, who looked like he’d just as soon kill a person as look at them. I’d fallen in with them strictly because of the bikes. Colt and Slade had never shared my love for motorcycles. Slade loved the ocean, thankfully, the only trait he’d inherited from our dad. And Colt liked to build things. But for me, if I wasn’t ridingfull throttle down a highway, I was leaning under my bike tinkering with it.
Sully and Fletch had the same bike obsession. My two shady companions were sort of an unofficial arm of a local outlaw club, not really fully fledged members but rather spare guys for when the club needed something dirty to go down without the official club patch being involved. I knew they were into some really ugly shit, but in their downtime, they liked to play poker and ride motorcycles. So I hung with them.
I walked out to the couch. It looked even less inviting up close. The cushions were stained and dented as if some giant ass, probably Fletch’s, had left a permanent mark in them. But I was in no mood to ride home. With the way I was feeling, I wasn’t completely sure I wouldn’t just ride my bike straight off the coastal cliff. Amy had left the same dent in my chest as Fletch had put in the couch cushion. But there wasn’t anything I could do about it. While the doctor had been busy needle and threading my head, I was busy trying to convince myself that I just had to give her up for good.
I turned my arm and stared down at the tattoo of the Led Zeppelin album cover. Amy had never figured out the connection. She’d never discovered that I’d gotten it to remind me of her, my Street Corner Girl. It was a subtle way to keep her with me wherever I went, so subtle that she had no idea it was about her. She’d always just figured I was a big Zeppelin fan.
Fletch followed me into the room with a beer can in one hand and a joint in the other. He sat on the big easy chair, another dumped-by-the-curbside furniture find. He ploppeddown on it, as I sat on the couch. My vision was still blurry enough to make the crummy little apartment look less filthy. The second my arms touched the cushions behind me, I started itching.
Fletch laughed. “They already getting to you? You must have great tasting blood.”
I looked down at the red mark I’d just left on my arm. “I don’t see them, but I think the idea that they are here, staring out at me with their little feelers and long teeth, has made me start itching. Of course, it could be the painkillers.”
“Nah, it’s the bugs.” He gulped back some beer and then burped. “So, you tapped out early tonight. Are you strapped for cash? I told you I can get you in on one of our gigs. Nice pay for little work.”
“No thanks. The last thing I want is to be tied to an outlaw club. I’ve already got enough trouble following me wherever I go. I’m good anyhow.”
“You still working for Rincon?”
My face popped up.
“Yeah, I know you’re running blow for him. I’ve got a friend who’s part of his circle. The guy likes to flap his jaws.”
“Great. Just what I need. Colt’s already wanting out of the business, and I think when Slade has enough cash, he’ll be getting back to fishing like the old man. I can’t do it alone, so I’ll have to find something legit to do. Probably about time I do that anyhow. I feel like I’m heading off the deep end with the way my life is going right now.”
He sucked on the joint and squinted through the smokeas he handed it across to me. “For the pain,” he said through gritted teeth. He blew out the smoke. I took the joint from his fingers. “You never did say how you split your scalp.” He grinned. “Let me guess— an angry boyfriend caught you in bed with his chick.”
“Yeah, sure. That sounds way better than getting crowned by a lady who thought I was an alien crawling in through her window.”
He laughed. “What the fuck?”
I shook my head. “Never mind.” I took a long hit. It would either make my head feel better or worse. I was leaning toward better because I couldn’t feel much worse.
Fletch leaned forward over his round belly. “I think I see a flea on your arm.”
I swiped at it and pushed up from the couch. “Hell, Fletch, why don’t you take the thing out to the dumpster and give it the final burial it needs?”
