Chapter Eight

Minus

F orcing myself to compartmentalize my emotions surrounding Cricket and my chance to be with her alone tomorrow night, I followed Clutch to our destination. We pulled up to the Nine Ball just after ten o’ clock and the place was already looking pretty lively. Bikes, low riders, and vintage custom trucks filled the parking lot. The Saints, The Apex Predators, and the older clubs in town still held sway, but according to Clutch, Los Psychos, the area’s newest club, had recently gained in numbers significantly, and all but taken over this, and several other spots.

“Holy shit! Look at this place,” Clutch said as we approached the bar’s entrance.

“I seem to recall it was in serious need of work when we were last here,” I said.

“Word on the street is, when Los Psychos bought the place, they dumped some serious cash into it,” Clutch replied.

“It looks like a fucking Dave and Busters threw up on Leo’s place.”

We made our way inside and I noticed the beat-to-shit wooden floors had been replaced by polished, tinted concrete. The original planks had no doubt been sold as reclaimed lumber to some trendy condo builder in the Pearl district. Half of the pool tables were gone, as were all the vintage pinball machines. The sawdust and peanut shells on the floor were gone too, likely due to some city ordinance about fucking allergies. The music, geared toward teenaged girls, was pumping in synch with a blinding light show. Had most of the guys in the place not been wearing kuttes, you’d never know this was still a biker bar.

“What the fuck happened to this place?” Clutch shouted. “Leo’s gotta be rolling over in his grave!”

“Leo’s not dead, Clutch.”

“Yeah, but still. He should dig his own grave, lie down, and fucking roll around in it,” Clutch growled out. “Can you believe this shit?”

As dramatic as he was being, he wasn’t wrong. ‘Our kind’ was running out of sacred spaces. Places where we could be ourselves. The world around us was changing rapidly, and much like the gunfighters and outlaws of the wild west, bikers would no longer be tolerated by polite society.

“Let’s go grab a quieter place to sit down and scope the place out,” I said.

I saw a table located in the perfect spot for our purposes. We’d have our backs to a wall, and a clear line of sight from the pool tables, to the front entrance. From that table, we could casually scan the room without attracting attention.

The table was currently being occupied by two of tonight’s few non-biker patrons; a beautiful young, raven haired woman, and a nervous looking young man. They looked more suited for a day of apple picking than hanging out here. Neither of them could have been a day older than twenty-two. These young folks were most certainly not in the right place.

“Wait here a sec,” I said to Clutch, and walked over to their table. “Good evening, y’all,” I said, smiling down at the young lovers. “I couldn’t help but notice the two of you sitting here and I thought I’d come over to lend some assistance.”

“Oh, okay,” the young man said. “That would be great, because no one has come over to take our drink orders or anything.”

I laughed. “No, man, I’m not here on behalf of the wait staff, I’m here to ask you to look around the room for a moment.”

“Why… Why is that?” he asked nervously.

“Well, you see, I’m thinking no one’s been by to take your order, because, despite the décor and this horrible music, this isn’t quite the place for nice young people such as yourselves,” I said. “Go ahead, look around this place. You notice anything all these folks have in common?”

“I… we… I just…,” he sputtered.

“They’re all bikers. That’s right…”

“Ch... Chad.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry, Chad, I’m not here to give you any trouble. In fact, I’m here to save your evening, and possibly your life.”

Ch… Chad and his companion stared up at me in stunned silence.

“Now, I’m gonna guess you two are on a date. Am I right?”

“Yes,” Chad said as the young lady nodded vigorously.

“First date?” I asked, grinning wide.

“S… second,” Chad replied.

“Ahhh, that makes sense,” I said. “The first date went well, but you were afraid you were a little too timid and wanted to show her your ‘bad boy’ side, so you brought her here to show how tough you are. Your college buddies probably told you about this pool hall where bikers hung out and serves cheap, watered down drinks. Am I right, Chad?”

He swallowed in response.

I pulled out a hundred-dollar bill from my wallet, placed it on the table, and motioned towards Clutch. “See that guy standin’ over there?”

Chad nodded.

“That ugly son of a bitch is my best friend, and this here is his favorite table. So, I’m gonna make you two a deal. I’ll give you a hundred dollars for this table. You can use the cash to take your date some place nice. Go somewhere you can talk and get to know each other. Come on Chad, you can’t have a nice conversation in a place like this. All you can get in here is hepatitis or stabbed.”

Chad took the bill and without another word the couple, hand in hand, beat it for the door.

“Ah, young love,” Clutch said smiling as he joined me at the table.

“Those two are lucky the night is still young. They would have had their bones picked clean before too long.”

No sooner had the two lovebirds flown the nest than a pretty, older, heavily tattooed woman appeared to take our drink orders. She was dressed to the nines in ‘pinup girl’ attire, and I recognized her as a waitress from back in the day.

“You were around when Leo owned the place weren’t you?” I asked.

“That’s right. Sally Anne. It’s been a while, Minus, nice to see you.”

“Wow, you’ve got a good memory,” I said, stunned she remembered me, let alone my name.

“It’s an occupational skill I’ve developed after doing this for way too long. Plus, I never forget a pretty face,” she said with a wink and a smile. “Although, it looks like someone recently tried to make you not-so-pretty.” She motioned to the cut below my eye. “Now, what can I get you, besides an ice pack? A couple of beers, something harder perhaps”

“You can start by telling me what the fuck happened to this place,” I said. “Where are the pool tables?”

“You can thank Mister Viper for all this. He’s turned the Nine Ball into his own personal Hooters,” she replied. “Members from some clubs still come here to do a little business, or get shit-faced, but it’s nothing like the old days.”

“What’s with the fuckin’ disco lights and the sound system?” Clutch asked.

“All this is for the pole posse.”

“The what ?”

“Los Psychos hang out with the strippers who work the clubs they run. The girls love this bubblegum shit. This place is turning into a nightclub piece by piece. Look around fellas. The whole neighborhood has changed. All the old bars have either been revamped to attract a younger crowd or sold to build more condos. It’s all beards, pork pie hats, and fuckin’ micro brews everywhere you go.”

“How does the old clientele feel about the hipster invasion?” I asked.

“What do you think? There are at least two fights a week in here, and that’s just the strippers. I sweep up bloody clumps of hair weave every night at closing time.”

“Why doesn’t Viper change the place back to the way it was? Give all the MCs a place to hang and keep the peace.”

“I don’t think he’s interested in keeping the peace, or in bikes for that matter. I think the only thing Viper is interested in is himself. He acts like he’s some sort of business tycoon or something, but he’s nothing but a pimp.

“Sounds like a charming guy,” Clutch said.

“Don’t get me wrong. It would be really easy to mistake him as some sort of joke, but the dude is scary.”

“Scary, how?” I asked.

“I’m not really comfortable talking about this around here, but just be careful is all. If you’d heard or seen some of the things I have, you’d listen to what I’m saying.”

“Is he around?” Clutch asked.

“I haven’t seen him, but my shift just stared. He usually shows up around two in the morning with his rent-a-harem,” she replied.

I turned to Clutch. “Whatta you say we take off then. We can come back later when Viper’s around. ”

He nodded.

“Thanks for the information, Sally Anne,” I said, pulling out another crisp hundred and placing it on her tray. “I think we’ll come back a little later for those beers.”

“I’ll keep ’em cold for ya,” she said with a smile.

Clutch and I turned and headed for the exit.

“Jesus, Minus, you’re passing out Benjamins like they’re candy. You win the lottery or something?”

“I’ll be sure to put it all in my expense report. I’m guessin’ Cutter will be more than happy to reimburse me once we find his money.”

“You know, you still haven’t told me exactly how it is you two made up. Last night you wanted to shove Red Dog’s staff up Cutter’s ass, and today you’re ready to tear up sacred ground to get his money back. What gives?”

“I promise I’ll fill you in on all the details as soon as I can. I need you to trust me for now and follow my lead.”

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 the three of 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 said douchebag .”

Apparently Mexican Hulk doesn’t turn green and smash things 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… charming place. What does Viper want?”

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

“He’s here ?” 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… transitional phase. 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—”

“But you two were leaving so soon?”

“I was getting a headache,” I cut in.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Viper said. “Can I get anything for you? ”

“Nah, I’ll be alright once I get outta here. I think the combination of shitty music, bright lights, and the stench of Drakar Noir mixed with stripper cooz doesn’t agree with m—”

“You, I recognize from around town,” Viper interrupted, pointing at Clutch before turning his attention back to me. “But you, I don’t know.”

“Well, my name is Minus, and I’m a Sagittarius. I enjoy long walks on the beach, going to the theater, and knowing what the fuck is going on around here.”

“You are funny guys. You two should do a podcast or something. Don’t you think so, Crush?”

Mexican Hulk nodded but remained expressionless.

Viper continued, “I have a great sense of humor, too, but I also know when to be serious. I wonder if you gentlemen know when it’s time to get serious?”

Clutch puffed his chest out. “Oh, I can be serious as a fucking heart-attack, muchacho.”

“What my associate Mr. Clutch means is, we can talk business, if business is the topic of discussion.”

Viper smiled. “I’m glad to hear that, because I wasn’t sure if what you saw earlier impressed upon you just how serious of a man I can be.”

“And exactly what was it that we were meant to have seen?” I asked.

“That was a de-patching party,” Viper said. “Do either of you gentlemen speak Spanish?”

“No comprendo, friend-o,” Clutch replied.

I cut in. “Aw, man. That was a missed opportunity right there. You know amigo is Spanish for friend, right?” I asked Clutch.

“So?”

“So…you could have said, “No comprendo, amigo,” and it still would have rhymed.”

“As I was saying,” Viper said, clearly irritated. “That man’s name is Loro , which means parrot in Spanish. He’s called that because of his many colorful tattoos. Little did I know, just like a fucking parrot, he had a habit of repeating things that were told to him. So, tonight I removed some of his feathers, one-by-one, and I’ll continue to do so until every trace of my club is gone from his worthless body.” He shrugged. “It might take days. Loro has a lot of feathers.”

“So, what’s your little tattoo removal service got to do with us?” I asked.

“Apparently one of the people Loro flapped his beak to on a regular basis was a garage owner named Phil Blondino.”

“So?”

“So, Mr. Minus—”

“Just Minus,” I said.

“And why do they call you that?”

“Because I’m good at subtraction.”

“Interesting that you should say that, because shortly after Loro last spoke with Phil, two members of the Burning Saints visited him.”

“So, what?”

“Well, since then no one has heard from Phil, or been able to locate him. Now two Burning Saints show up in my club. Maybe the same two Burning Saints for all I know.”

“So, are we putting that information in the funny or the serious column?” I asked, remaining unfazed.

Viper’s lips formed a slight smile, but his eyes burned with anger. “I have to apologize. Clearly, I didn’t quite make the impression on you gentlemen that I had intended.”

“Now, don’t be too sure about that,” I said. “If your intention was to show us that you’re a psychopath that mutilates his own people due to his own personal fuckups, then let me assure you, message received. Wouldn’t you say, Clutch?”

“Roger, 10-4. I read ya loud and clear, good buddy.” Clutch turned to me and smiled. “Hey, remember when we were little kids and we saw Smokey and the Bandit on TV, and for like a month we were obsessed with being truckers?”

“We drove the nuns crazy practicing CB slang—”

“Clearly, you don’t understand what’s happening here,” Viper said, raising his voice .

“I’m pretty sure it’s you that doesn’t quite get the picture here, amigo” I said. “The Nine Ball may be your place now, not that I’d brag about that , but the Saints will burn it down with you and all your crew inside of it, if you so much as touch us. You don’t have the numbers or the muscle to start a war with us, so you’re gonna wanna back the fuck off.”

Viper seethed but said nothing. He knew I was right.

I continued. “As for business, the only thing we came to talk about involves two duffle bags containing three million dollars in cash. That money belongs to Cutter and the Burning Saints. We have information that tells us you may have come across this money in error. If that’s the case, we want it back by noon tomorrow. We will, of course, be happy to provide you with a finder’s fee once the money is retuned in full.”

“And, if your information is incorrect and I don’t have your club’s money?”

“Then Cutter would greatly appreciate you locating it and retrieving it from those that do. If you deliver it to him by noon, the aforementioned finder’s fee still applies.”

“I see,” Viper said, once again smiling. “And, what if I didn’t come across your money in error, as you said, but instead willfully took it from the Burning Saints?”

“Then, you’d be one dumbass motherfucker,” Clutch said, his fists balled at his sides.

“Perhaps,” Viper hissed. “But what if I, theoretically of course, had stolen the money for a very good reason?”

I took one step toward Viper and before I could get closer Crush pulled his gun, aiming it at my chest. I casually showed him my hands and backed up. One single step.

“That’s enough, Crush, put that gun away. These gentlemen and I are only talking. Hypothetically of course.”

“You see, Mister Viper, that’s where you’re dead wrong,” I said. “We’re very much speaking in real terms about real money, and if you keep jerking me around, you’re gonna have a real fucking problem.”

“Then let me be perfectly clear with you, Amigo . I not only took Cutter’s money…I’ve already spent it. ”

“Is that a fact?”

“Yes.” Viper smiled wide. “Just now, in fact.”

“On what, exactly?” I asked.

“Your full, undivided attention.”