Page 5 of Defended By Bam
“Right. But last night we had prospects here for hours and you were nowhere to be found. We don’t know if these punks are plants or what.”
“Good thing you were here, then. I heard you partied a little, too.”
“I had a round with Glenda. But then we came back down and parted ways.” She was nothing more than someone to take the edge off. But I never got the sense she was looking for more from me, either. But she wasn’t like the club ass. She didn’t like to put on a show and didn’t like extra players. Our arrangement, if you’d even call it that, worked out good for us both. “I’d hoped you’d make your way back down so I could tell you about Benny.”
He finished chewing a bite of toast, then asked, “How’s our old buddy?”
“He pulled some shit. Tried to slash our prices at the last minute.”
Hammer finally looked up, his brown irises surrounded by redness. “That little shit. What’d you do?”
“We handled it, and now he’s paying a premium. But I have concerns as to why he thought he could haggle,” I said.
Hammer gripped my shoulder, sighing. “Look, man. I hear you. Maybe I did get carried away a few times. I’ll keep the hardcore partying to closed events, alright?”
Staring for a few beats, I said, “I’m not your momma. But if shit goes down, we all need to be ready.”
He grinned, a slight chuckle coming from his chest. “You’re right, brother. I’m just living it up. But if we got buyers trying to renegotiate it’s time to buckle down, and what is it they say? Shit rolls downhill or something?”
“Something like that. Hey, I’m running to Georgia. Be back tomorrow night sometime,” I told him.
He stiffened just a bit. “Oh yeah. Business or pleasure?”
“Dropping some stuff off with Allie. Hang out a bit and make sure she’s good.”
I watched as he ate, not looking at me again.
“I know I’ve asked before, but are you sure nothing happened with her?”
Still not looking up, instead shoveling eggs onto his fork, he answered, “I told you a million times. I did what you asked and checked on her a few times. She was good, that was it. End of story.” He then shoved the food in his mouth, shaking his head.
I didn’t buy it, especially since Allie was just as defensive every time I brought it up. It didn’t matter, I just didn’t like the idea that Allie and my long-time friend and club brother were keeping anything from me.
After a short drive to my little house, I parked and ran inside. I had a room at the clubhouse but I had to come by and grab a few things so I showered at home. We didn’t have an official clubhouse when I first moved down, and the place we were using was cramped and musty. I was able to drum up enough money to rent this place, but Hammer helped make a deal for it, so now it was mine.
It wasn’t much, but it was enough for me. It was also in a part of town that didn’t hold up well after a few massive hurricanes, so there weren’t any close neighbors. The ones nearest to me weren’t the type to call the cops or bother me.
The house was old as hell, with two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a small, partially covered backporch. I’d done a few updates since I’d been here and while it wasn’t fancy, it was mine. I spent a lot of time at the clubhouse, but it was nice to have a place to get some peace and quiet.
I was grabbing a change of clothes when my phone went off.
Allie: Hey, have you left yet?
Me: Was just about to hit the road. You ok?
Allie: Can you bring the truck?
Me: We moving something?
Allie: :-)
She probably bought a couch or something off an app. She loved a good deal and constantly changed her furniture. But I’d rather her have me do it than her go alone or have someone deliver to her. Fuckers were crazy these days and she didn’t need to be giving her address out to strangers on the internet.
I locked up the house, tossed my bag into my black ‘84 F150, then rolled my Harley into my detached garage and secured it as well.
As a kid, we had a neighbor with older cars and he had a classic F150. I always wanted one, so when I started making some real money, Allie found one for me online for a steal. It needed some work, but we had a body and mechanic shop and some of the brothers worked on it for me. In no time at all, they had her like new. I’d come to love my Harley, but the truck was special. My small time dealing back home was a constant hustle and looking back, wasn’t worth the risk and the trips behind bars. We had things in place to avoid issues with the boys in blue now, but even if I was caught by one that we didn’t have in our pocket, at least it would be worth it. This life was different. Better.
***
