Page 31 of Minus

Clutch stopped and turned to face me. “You never have to ask me to trust you. I’ll always have your back.”

“Thanks, man. Now, let’s get the hell outta here. I’m gettin’ a headache from this music.”

We had almost reached the door when a giant Los Psychos member stepped in front of us, blocking our path. Neither Clutch nor I are small men, by any stretch, so believe me when I say this guy was huge. Mexican Hulk huge.

“Whoa, hey there,” Clutch exclaimed, backing up a step. “Is there something we can do… for thethreeof you?”

“Viper is curious about the two Saints in his club,” our living roadblock replied coolly.

“It’s always flattering to know when people are thinking about you,” Clutch said. “Don’t you think so, Minus?”

“Indeed, it is. What was this gentleman’s name again?”

“Don’t get cute. You know exactly who Viper is.”

“Oh,Viiiper.” Clutch snapped his fingers in mock remembrance. “Yeah, yeah. We heard of him. Sorry, the music is very loud in here, I couldn’t hear you very well. I coulda sworn you saiddouchebag.”

Apparently Mexican Hulk doesn’t turn green and smashthings when he’s angry. He turns red and reaches for a gun in his waistband.

“Okay, fellas,” I said, attempting to deescalate things. “No need to make a mess in such a…charmingplace. What does Viper want?”

“He wants to see both you guys right now,” he grunted.

“He’shere?” I asked.

“He’s in the back, in his office. It’s a private party. Let’s go.”

I nodded, and he escorted us down a narrow hallway which led to a room marked, “The Boss.” As much as I didn’t like this gorilla giving us orders, or not knowing what we were walking into, I figured if we were here to find out about Viper, meeting the man himself would be a good way to start. If we made it out of the meeting alive.

The office door was open, and as we approached, I could see the room was filled with at least a half-dozen Los Psychos members. They were standing in a circle, surrounding another man, who was down on his knees. I could hear angry, muffled voices, but couldn’t make out what they were saying. What words I could make out were in Spanish, which didn’t particularly help me as I barely spoke a lick of it. One word I did recognize was “no,” which was now being yelled repeatedly, followed by screams of pain, then an unsettling silence.

Moments later, several men filed out carrying a wadded up, blue plastic tarp. After that, two Los Psychos members assisted the “man in the middle” past us, down the hallway. He was bound at the wrists and needed assistance from both men to stay upright. He was shirtless, and I could see club tats all over his chest and arms. One of his handlers held a bar towel to his back, which was soaked in blood. This guy had clearly been worked over and was in rough shape.

“Let’s go,” our oversized escort said, and he motioned us inside.

The office’s decor, like the rest of the pool hall was over the top and ultra-modern. The walls were adorned with framed movie posters of Scarface and the Fast and the Furious,along with murals of Che Guevara, and Pancho Villa.

Only one person now occupied the office. A man in a purple suit, standing in front of an oversized mahogany desk. He was wiping blood off a large bowie knife. On the desk sat a brass name plate that read Viper – Chief Executive Officer.

“Gentlemen, please come in,” he said, before setting the knife down and coming over to shake our hands. “I’m sorry about all the mess and the noise. We had a bit of a housekeeping problem, but it’s all cleared up now.”

Viper was young, handsome, and looked nothing like any MC president I’d ever seen. Hell, he didn’t look like any kind of biker I’d ever seen. He looked more like a telenovela star, playing the role of a drug lord. His jet-black hair was slicked back, and he spoke with a thick Mexican accent.

“My name is Viper, and you’ve met my assistant, Crush,” he said in a velvety smooth tone, motioning toward Mexican Hulk, which I was now fully convinced was a far better club name.

“Charmed, I’m fuckin’ sure,” I said.

“I wanted to welcome you both to my nightclub. It’s a bit of a…work in progress, but I have big plans for the place.”

“Nightclub?” I asked. “Last time I was here, this place was a pool hall… for bikers.”

“Like I said, the place is in a…transitionalphase. When it’s complete, the Nine Ball will have a little something for everyone. We still hope to cater to the old clientele’s needs while expanding toward the future, which is precisely why I wanted to talk with you two gentlemen tonight.”

“I think you might have us confused with someone else. You keep calling us gentlemen, and that’s not really our deal,” Clutch said.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You see, we came here tonight to have a few beers and shoot some pool—”

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