Page 15

Chewy

“ H ow do you want to play this?” Blanche asks, matching me stride for stride as I try my best to navigate tables and chairs.

This place is too loud and it stinks of too many things and I’m finding it hard to come up with a good plan. Not because I don’t have a brain full of good plans, but because there are too many moving parts and variables in the mall. Hard to focus. I need to get her somewhere quiet.

“Get her into the bathrooms. I do my best work when there’s a drain handy.” Blanche nods, not asking for any more information. I like that. I turn my gaze back to Whitney, my face screwing up “What’s wrong with Whitney’s face?”

“Nothing. She’s just looking smug. Did she always look like that? And is it bad to say that I don’t like her even though I’ve never met her?”

“No. She sucks. Both figuratively and literally.”

I walk through a haze of hotdog and body odor and I have an urge to cover my ears but I need to play it cool. Whitney has teased me before about being different so I won’t give her the satisfaction. Rhodie says I’m perfect, and that’s all that matters. Flicking my eyes back to Whitney I think Blanche is right, she does look smug. Maybe even a little too pleased. This may not be as easy as I think it will be. Glancing around the reason behind her false smile appears behind her.

“Chewy, that man behind Whitney, do you think he looks like a piggy-eyed orc with Maui hair? Like Flora described?” Blanche asks, clocking Whitney’s backup at the same time.

I have no idea what Maui hair looks like, but he does look like a piggy eyed orc. Weird. The bunny messing with my MC and the piggy eyed orc messing with Mira in the same place at the same time is no coincidence. I hadn’t calculated that the Tank thing would be mixed in with the Mira thing. Curious.

“The plan still the same?” Blanche asks, dodging a mom and her kid.

I pause for a moment, focussing on a dropped penny on the ground. The feet walking around it become a blur and all the noise and smells that were bothering me become background fluff, allowing me to formulate a plan better. “How do you feel about being kidnapped?”

Tank

“Fuck! Pack it up guys, the girls have been taken!” Rider yells from the front reception as he turns off the computer and flings papers around.

“What the fuck? Which girls?” I demand, Judge running in behind me.

“Dunno. Let’s go.”

We race out the door barely setting the alarm. If anyone needs a tow they’ll have to fucking wait, our family is missing. We straddle our bikes and roar out of Devil’s Big Tow, making the ten minute ride in 5 minutes flat. Jimmy rushes the gate open waving us in then shutting it up tight behind us.

Within moments we’re all three stomping through the front doors to Pops, Lovely and the Ol Ladies, except Chewy and Blanche, all sitting on the couches being grilled by Marx while Wire, Savage and Gus stand at the backs of their Ol Ladies. With Chewy and Blanche missing, Tav looks like he’s going to murder someone and Rhodie is cuddling Chomper for comfort. My eyes land on Mira and without even thinking I stride over to her, taking her lips.

“Glad you’re OK,” she blushes up at me and I move to stand behind her, like the other Ol Men. I’ll think about why I like that so much later on, once we have our girls back.

“I don’t know what you’re so worried about,” Pops waves his hand. “Those two are the best of the Ol Ladies to be kidnapped. They’re probably worse than the guy who took ‘em,” he shrugs.

“I mean, when he puts it like that,” Rider comments, earning a growl from Rhodie.

“We got any leads on who took them?” Dex asks, always level headed.

“Well, they were going to ‘chat’ to Whitney,” Remy says, using air quotes.

“Whitney? What the fuck?”

“Is she shaped like a bobblehead? All tiny down the bottom and then massive boobies and a big head with really big blonde hair?” Mira cuts in, leaning back to look at me, which sends a weird thrill through my body, that she would look at me rather than my Pres or brothers.

“Yeah, that sounds like her. But with really bad makeup. Like no thought to contouring or blending,” Nitro says, all of us turning to stare.

“Um, yeah she was there the whole time we were shopping. I like people watching and she was there lurking. And smirking,” Mira says, drawing our attention away from Nitro and his apparent makeup knowledge.

“If Whitney took them they’re probably on the way to Roxburgh and that club she works at with the dodgy boss. The bunnies aren’t clever enough to pull this shit off on their own,” Wire states then turns his attention to the Ol Ladies. “Exactly how long ago were they taken? I’ll be able to approximate where they could be based on how long of a head start they’ve had.”

The Ol Ladies debate if it was half hour ago they were taken or slightly longer. Wire pulls up a map and we all stare at it, pointing out where on the road they could be.

“Why don’t you just check Chewy’s tracker?” Pops asks in a bored tone.

“Fuck! You’re right.” Tav yells, pulling up his phone, “I gave Blanche a tracker necklace for Christmas for reasons just like this. I can’t believe I forgot,” he mumbles.

“Why didn’t you give her an implant you cheapskate?” Pops frowns.

“She’s pregnant, so we wanted to wait til baby comes. And she wants to know whether it’ll give her cancer or something in the long run,” Tav murmurs, tapping away on his phone.

“She’ll be fine. I’ve had one for years and I’m healthy as an ox!”

“A little too healthy,” Rhodie mumbles, earning a glare from Pops.

Tav taps a few more things on his phone and frowns. “You said they were going to chat to Whitney, yeah?”

“Yup. They were headed straight for her in the mall food court,” Ana answers.

Marx holds his finger up and takes out his phone. He puts it on speaker, holding it so we can all hear Takoda answer.

“Prospect, how many bunnies are inside their apartment?”

“All four.”

How can all four be there if Whitney has Chewy and Blanche? Mira must think the same thing because she frowns up at me.

“How long have all four been home?” Marx questions.

“Three of them were in when I took my post. Whitney was dropped off around 7 minutes ago carrying bags from the mall.”

Marx’s eyes narrow. “Know who dropped her off?”

“A greasy, scrawny looking guy, figured it’s her new man.”

“Same guy I’ve seen her with,” I add.

“Thanks Takoda,” Marx hangs up.

“This scrawny new man of hers look something like this?” Wire turns his laptop around, a mugshot of Whitney’s new man filling up the screen.

“Yeah, that’s the one. Drives like he thinks he’s in Fast and Furious.”

“Who the fuck is he, Wire?” Rhodie asks, gently rocking Chomper.

“This, brothers and Ol Ladies, is the owner of Spinners and a whole lot of other seedy shit. David Brian Tiffany. Or Big D on the streets.”

“David Brian Tiffany? No wonder he grew up to be an asshole.” Flack says.

“Right, we got Whitney fucking Big D and we know she’s not one to keep her mouth shut if there’s something in it for her. We’ve also got Whitney lurking at the mall and we’ve got two missing Ol Ladies. Got a hit on their location yet, Tav?”

“Well, if you’re thinking that Whitney was a distraction and her new boss boyfriend has taken my Ol Lady and my sister, then you better think again. They’re not headed toward Roxburgh.” Tav says, eyes on the little screen of his phone.

“So where they fuck are they heading?” Rhodie barks. Chomper jumps in his arms and Rhodie murmurs and apologizes to the special guy.

“By the looks of the tracker, they’re almost in Ironwood.”

This has my ears pricked up ready to listen. Ironwood is where Roman’s body disposal is located. My MC brothers recognize the location as they all stiffen at the mention.

“Now, what’s a bunny that strips in Roxburgh got to do with a dodgy funeral home in Ironwood?” Pops asks, stroking his beard.

We all sit or stand around in silence, Mira’s eyes are huge and I can see the thoughts ticking over in her mind. Up until now it’s been quiet around the clubhouse, the only action she’s seen was when Nitro was escorted to the police department. Now she’s seeing what we really do.

“There’s no paper trail from the funeral home to Spinners or vice versa,” Remy says, her fingers flying over her phone screen.

“Nothing I can see either Pres,” Wire backs her up, doing the same thing on his laptop behind her.

“Well, I don’t care if there’s a trail or not, I’m going to get my Ol lady, and then I’m going to spank her ass for getting herself kidna-”

The door flings open and for a split second I wonder why the fuck we have Jimmy on the gates if people are always barging through the door anyway.

“Honey, I’m hoooooome!”

Blanche

“Tav is going to lose his shit and then gentle parent me into never getting kidnapped again,” I groan as I try to wriggle into a more comfortable position. Which is kinda hard as I’m lying on the hard floor of a big, blue van. I mean, could the kidnapper be any more obvious?

“I wonder how he turned out like that?” Chewy ponders from her position a few feet from me. Seriously, this van is huge. “You know, this van is very roomy. It’s also not as gross as I would have expected.”

I take in the back of the van and I have to agree with her. There’s three single seats down one side of the vehicle, and a big lift type set up thing behind me. There is a wheelchair sticker on the back window so I’m guessing this guy has stolen this car from a needy person. What an absolute asshole. I tell him that fact, and he can hear every word as there isn’t a wall or anything between us. Just the two front seats, a center console and empty floor space with me and Chewy rolling around.

“You bitches keep your mouths shut! I don’t want to hear your whiny bullshit.” He glares at me in the rearview and I poke my tongue out seeing as I can’t flip him my middle finger.

“Hey! Mr.! Is that a wheelchair lift back there?” Chewy calls out then looks at me. “This van would be great for moving furniture. Oh! Or like a piano, just roll that sucker on.” She rolls over so she’s facing the Maui Orc. “Hey, did you steal this van or is it yours? Are both your legs real or are you wearing prosthetics? I didn’t notice anything unusual in your gait but I wasn’t paying that much attention.” His eyes flick to the mirror and I know by the resigned look on his face that he knows Chewy won’t leave these questions unanswered.

“It’s my van, happy? Now shut the fuck up.” He speeds up, obviously trying to get rid of us sooner, rather than later.

Chewy flops around a little until she rolls to face me, then does some type of Raygun wriggle to move herself closer to me. “I’m gonna take his van,” she whispers, waggling her brows, “The boys can give her a paint job and all that stuff. It’s a good investment.”

I stare at her. “Chewy, can you even drive?”

“Of course I can! I just choose not to.” Her eyes dart away and I file it away to ask Tav. Ugh, he will be losing his shit right now. His overprotectiveness is bad at the best of times, but with me cooking our little nugget I can’t imagine how he’s dealing with it.

“He’ll be fine, you know,” Chewy says, looking me in the eye, earnestly, for a quick moment before looking elsewhere. “He’s professional. He’ll be able to set aside what he’s feeling to do his job. I’ve seen him do it numerous times.”

“You think so?”

“I know so.” She nods, and it makes the sinking feeling in my stomach ease a little.

“Although, because he is so good at his job, we only have around a half hour, forty minutes tops to turn the table on the piggy man.”

“Maui Orc.”

“I don’t know what that means.”

“It’s OK. You don’t need to.”

“I also don’t like the way it feels in my mouth. And it’s too long. I’m going to call him Morc.”

“Fine.”

She nods. “Good.”

“So, what’s the plan, oh great one?”

“We overpower him, take the van, and uno reverse the kidnap.” She grins like this is the perfect plan.

“We’re tied up, rolling around on the floor of a van.” I whisper shout at her. “You’re what? Five feet tall? I’m not much bigger and I’m pregnant. How the hell do we overpower Morc?”

She makes eye contact, eyes sparkling, “We overpower him with our minds.” She grins and rolls back to face our kidnapper. “Ew, is that a Batman bobblehead on your dash?”

She wriggles closer to him, grunting with the effort, “You know Batman is the total bad guy right? Like he expects people to be sad for him because he lost his parents, waaaaaah, what a total crybaby. I’m an orphan too and you don’t see me going around beating up innocent people.”

Morc’s head snaps around to glare at Chewy before his eyes flick back to the road, “Whatever lady. Clearly you don’t know anything about Batman, so shut your fat mouth.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re probably right. I don’t know that Batman was created by Bob Kane and Bill Finger and debuted in 1939. No way. I don’t know anything about Batman,” she sing songs. Morc’s jaw tenses and from the angle I’m lying on I can see his stubby fingers tighten on the steering wheel. “I’m sure you know way more than me. Like how in the 1940’s Batman tried to prohibit killing because before then he was a total asshole? Beating up poor, defenseless men, just trying to make ends meet to feed their families.”

“What the fuck are you on? Batman is the good guy!” he roars, swerving a little, sending me sliding into the side of the van.

“He’s a gajillionaire and he goes around beating up poor people. The guys that are always loading vans in alleys. Batman maims them and then what? They have to live the rest of their lives on disability, costing the Gotham government more than what Bruce Wayne contributes. What’s the bet he gets a buttload of tax breaks from his political buddies. The Joker, he’s the real hero.” Morc lets out a strangled cry but Chewy continues, “At least he’s out here trying to give these guys jobs.”

“That’s it.” The van swerves violently to the side, skidding to a stop. “I can’t take this shit anymore. If you’re not going to shut up, I’m going to make you.” He unbuckles his seat belt and rummages around in the console, “I can’t believe this shit. She’s not paying me fucking enough to put up with this,” he mutters under his breath.

“Whitney is a total douche, why the hell are you working for her?” I call out, my curiosity winning out over the fear of what the fuck this guy is gonna do to Chewy. We’re at a total disadvantage, we have no hands free and I have no idea how Chewy is going to fight a seriously built guy with only her short legs.

His head snaps up. “Who the fuck is Whitney? And why the fuck are you talking? I thought you were the quiet one.”

“Whitney is the blonde bobblehead that met up with you, dickhead,” I spit at him.

He squints for a moment, then maneuvers himself over the console into the back with us, “I don’t work for no hookers. And I don’t put up with shit from two mouthy biker whores either.”

“Aw, good thing we aren’t biker whores then isn’t it?” Chewy says, from her position on the floor looking up at him with a smile. “Surprise!” She pulls her untied hands from behind her back, waving jazz hands at Morc before launching up and jabbing something into his groin.

He falls to his knees as Chewy stands, looking down at him. “Say goodnight, Bruce Lame.”

And with that she swings a brutal right hook at him knocking him out cold. We both stare at his body for a beat.

“When were you gonna tell me you had a knife this whole time?”

“Couldn’t give away my secrets,” she mutters, climbing into the front and tearing the Batman bobblehead from the dash.

“So you were just gonna let the woman carrying your niece or nephew roll around tied up in the back?”

She turns to look at me. “You’re fine. And I have loads of nieces and nephews. Besides, if it makes you feel better, I can let you do the honors?”

She waves the bobblehead around and then looks toward the bottom half of Morc and I follow her gaze. No. No way.

“What is it with you and butts?” I really need to know, it’s not normal. I mean, sure, a little ass play is a good time, but Chewy is another level. She uses asses for good and evil.

“I like how it makes them squirm,” she shrugs. “So, do you want in on this or not?”

“I’ll look through his shit, you do, whatever,” I wave in her general direction and start pawing through Morc’s crap. There’s old fast food wrappers, papers strewn on the passenger seat and an employee swipe card for some funeral home.

“There! All done. Now move outta the way preggo, I wanna see how my new ride handles.”