Page 112 of Size King

If I’d known what awaited me at the meeting, I would have stopped and pre-gamed at the bar first. But, as it is, I pull up to my usual spot out in front of the clubhouse, sober and unprepared for the news.

When I get inside, I am surprised to see a full house. Everyone showed up. Every Crimson Wheel is in the house, poised and ready for action.

“Howdy, gentlemen,” I say to the group.

I get a variety of acknowledgements on my way to the front of the room. Cody is there waiting for me, looking flustered and antsy.

“What’s the matter with you?” I ask him.

“Well, Dustin, there isn’t an easy way to get to it, so I’m just going to come out and say it,” says Cody. “We discovered that Jacob Evans, the owner of Ultra-Cycle here in Reno, is the President of the Hell-Snakes.”

I am speechless. At first, I think he is joking or speaking from paranoia, but his face never lies to me. Jacob Evansisour guy and our number-one enemy now.

I feel cold. Suddenly, it all fully processes for me and hits me. Jacob Evans is the one responsible for my wife’s death.

Cody pats my back, giving me a look of brotherly affection. I still can’t find the words.

“We also suspect their prices are so low because of their extracurricular activities,” Cody continues for the club. “It’s run by Hell-Snake money. They’re sitting on a small fortune over there from all the shady, criminal shit they’re up to. So, Jacob’s bike shop can afford to stealmybusiness until they’ve taken every last customer from us and empty our registers for good.”

“Fuck ‘em!” someone in the crowd yells. “Let’s burn their fucking shop down!”

There is a consensus among the crowd, but I’m not among them. I’m still processing what I was just told. Rebecca’s killer has a face, a name, an occupation, a voice. My vengeance is near.

“We’re going to destroy Jacob Evans and his band of shitheads, the Hell-Snakes,” declares Cody. “We’ve already had a life taken from us, from one of our own. I’m normally a much calmer guy than this, but we’ve never gotten resolution for Becca Walker’s death. I’m angry.”

“I’m angry too, make no mistake,” I say as clearly as I can.

“Maybe it’s time to send a message,” Cody proposes. “Like, ‘an eye for an eye.’ Let’s go and torture Jacob in his own shop and then torch the place.”

The place goes crazy. Still, I’m the only one in the room that remains uncharacteristically stoic. I am afraid, and I don’t know why.

Cody can be a real unforgiving, ruthless bastard, but sometimes I can’t tell when he is “putting it on” for the guys. I suspect that his rough persona is the image he wants to project and uphold as leader of the Crimson Wheels. He also understands that it is his responsibility to protect the gang, and he can’t appear soft or weak on a woman-killer. We don’t kill women, and we revile any group that does.

“If any of Jacob’s thugs try to stop us from desecrating this son of a bitch, we’ll kill them the moment we see them. Don’t give them a chance to fire their weapons. End them, like you would a coyote or raccoon. Jacob belongs to Dustin, and he will have as much time with him as he wants.”

Cody is showing me he is my go-to guy and will always look out for me. He is painting an enticing picture in my head. I’m imagining torturing him in his own store, cutting off his vile, perverted hands and stuffing them down his throat until he suffocates, or maybe I’ll just keep cutting him until there is nothing else left of him to cut. I can’t make up my mind.

“What do you say, VP?” Cody asks me. “Is that how we’re going to destroy Jacob and the Hell-Snakes?”

I am still unable to form coherent sentences, let alone dictate a rousing speech to the gang. I nod, and the room roars with cheer.

* * *

After our meeting concludes,I leave the clubhouse and call Megan right away. I am more determined than ever before to take her away from that awful bike shop. I want her to be gone from that place before shit goes down.

“Hello?” Megan says upon answering my call.

“Megan, hi,” I say. “What are you up to?”

“You caught me on my break at work actually,” she answers. “What areyouup to, mister?”

“I was wondering if maybe you’d like to have dinner again with me tonight,” I offer. “Let’s get some drinks and some tacos. I know tomorrow’s Tuesday, but I think we can cheat and have tacos a day early. What do you say?”

“Do you promise not to ask me about money anymore?” she asks.

“Fine.” I chuckle. “We don’t have to talk about money.”

“Okay, and you’re not going to ask me to come work for you again?”