Bottle
Jamie “Bottle” Smith parked his motorcycle outside the clubhouse and headed inside with a large brown paper bag under his arm.
“Morning,” said a man with shoulder length blond hair, standing at the counter with his right arm wrapped around the waist of a young lady sitting on the counter. It was Jase, the new President of the Sons of Mayhem. He had been unanimously elected after the previous president, Bigfella, had been locked up for a bullshit crime. Unfortunately he wouldn’t be getting out any time soon.
The corners of Jase’s mouth creased upward and there was a twinkle in his eye as he spied what was under Bottle’s arm. “Got something for us?”
“Sure do.” Bottle gave them a friendly grin as he walked over to the couple.
“Nice!” said Nicole, Jase’s ole lady, as she hopped down and gave Bottle a peck on the cheek. “Let me see.”
“Have at it, guys.” Bottle handed the bag over to Nicole, who took it with a smile and opened it with Jase.
“Aren’t you going to have any?” Jase asked.
“Nah, I had a couple before. I knew they would get snatched up as soon as I came inside.”
Bottle gave a tight-lipped grin as Jase smacked him on the shoulder. “Cheers, brother.”
Nicole’s voice came out muffled. “Thanks.” Her mouth was already half full of a sugared jelly from Jester’s Donuts, Farmington’s newest unhealthy breakfast outlet.
“What time you leaving?” Bottle asked, raising his eyebrows at Jase.
“Just as soon as Lonnie gets here. Should be any minute now.” He paused, as if reconsidering. “Well, and as soon as we’ve done some real damage to these donuts, anyway.”
Bottle laughed, and smacked his president on the shoulder.
Jase’s face turned serious for a moment. “Are you sure you’re going to be okay? I could let Lonnie go it alone, and stay behind, if you want.”
A faint surge of resentment ran through Bottle as he wondered whether Jase really trusted him to keep the club going while he was away. It was only going to be for a couple of weeks, what hell could go wrong?
And anyway, it was thanks to Bottle’s plan, which put most of the local drug trade under their control, that the club was now not only out of financial straits, but actually cash flow positive and with a growing stash in their safe.
“No problem. We’ll be fine. You guys have fun.”
Jase nodded. “I know you’ll be fine, I just don’t want you to think that we’re leaving you in the lurch, while we go off and have fun with the rock stars.”
Bottle shook his head and grinned. “You know I don’t like Limeys anyway. You have fun with the British guitar monkeys, Prez.”
Jase let out another laugh. Bottle was going to be left in charge of the club, as acting vice president, while Jase and Lonnie coordinated security for a series of shows a British rock band was doing across the Southwest.
While the club and its associated security company didn’t have enough regular guys to run security for the tour, they had spent the previous couple of weeks recruiting a ragtag group of bouncers, security guards, former football players and a few bikers from the Ragers, a club in nearby Armingdale they were becoming increasingly friendly with.
Jase and Lonnie had had a falling out over Lonnie’s rough treatment of Nicole a couple of months earlier with the whole traitorous debacle which had unfolded almost destroying the club, but now, thank God, they were back on speaking terms, and would be working closely together as Lonnie was the connection to the rock band, having grown up with the lead singer in England.
Since Jase’s promotion to president the club had not yet selected a new vice president. It was likely they would choose one soon though, and it would almost certainly be Bottle. That is, of course, unless he fucked everything up while Jase was away.
“While we’re gone, I want you to take a real good look at those two prospects.”
Bottle nodded. “Twist and Red, right?”
“You know it, brother. Our numbers are way down, and we’re going to need to bring a few up soon. They’ve both been prospects over a year. Test them a bit, will you? Make sure they’re the good kind of fuck-up. I’ve got half a dozen with me, but they need a few more months of prospect hell before we can bring ‘em up. Your two are up next, so give ‘em a final once over.”
Bottle laughed. “Sure thing. I told ‘em to be here early today.”
Nicole pulled a face. “Red is an asshole.”
Jase and Bottle laughed. “Yep,” they both said.
Jase turned to Nicole. “He may be an asshole, but he’s done his time as a hang about and as a prospect, and even you have to admit, he is a bit less of an asshole than he was before.”
Nicole just raised her eyebrows and shoved the rest of the donut she was holding into her mouth.
Outside the sound of an engine signaled the arrival of Lonnie.
“It sounds like her Royal Highness’s finest is here. We better get going.”
“Safe travels, Boss, Sweetness.”
The president and his ole lady laughed. They exchanged hugs with Bottle, and Nicole gave him a warm kiss on the cheek before they headed out.
Bottle watched them go and reached for the bag of donuts. He’d changed his mind and decided to have one more before the prospects arrived.
“Jesters? Sweet!” From out back another girl had rapidly appeared, half skipping and half running across the room. Bottle paused to admire her a moment. She was wearing skin tight jeans that had been slashed in a dozen places giving peeks of tanned calves and thighs and somehow seeming more revealing than if she’d just been wearing a miniskirt. Above the waist a tight, midriff bearing t-shirt revealed a flat stomach and breasts that strained to break free.
Before he knew it, Lucy was reaching into the paper bag, and a moment later her slender fingers flew back out clutching a chocolate ring donut. “Thanks, Bottle! Gotta run.”
Bottle turned to watch her leave, her tight jean-clad ass seeming to taunt him as it waggled away toward the door. Did she know she did that? Of course she did. “Later, Juicy!”
She waved a hand in the air without turning around as she disappeared out the door to join Nicole and Jase.
Bottle picked up the paper bag. “Dammit!” Bottle screwed up the empty paper bag and tossed it back onto the counter. He couldn’t believe they’d just finished off eight donuts.
The roar of motorcycle engines outside was briefly drowned out by the sound of an air horn. Bottle shook his head to himself. The air horn was going overboard, wasn’t it? Jase had attached it to his motorcycle after a run-in with a pickup truck driver who had claimed not to hear or see his motorcycle before almost running him off the road. No one would ever claim they didn’t hear him coming again.
Bottle glared at Twist, the young prospect wilting under his gaze. “Where the fuck is Red?”
“I told you, I don’t know. He disappeared with some girl last night. I dropped by his place on the way here, but his bike wasn’t even in the driveway. I thought he would be here already.”
“Well, until he shows up you’re going to be doing his share as well.”
Twist gave a nod of acceptance. Until he made full member he was a grunt.
“And you can start with the bathrooms.”
The greasy haired twenty-year-old blew air out of his lips in a silent sigh.
“Problem?” Bottle asked, raising his eyebrows at the younger man.
Twist stood up. “No problem, boss.”
Bottle watched as the young man clad in a Metallica T-shirt walked away, his posture slightly slumped.
It was uncharacteristically quiet in the clubhouse. Jase and Lonnie had taken a lot of the hangabouts and prospects with them, leaving the place feeling almost deserted. It was still early of course, but still. A few months earlier Bigfella would have been there, as he always was, and no doubt there would have been one or two party girls around from the night before hanging on his every word.
It was just too damn quiet. Bottle shook his head softly and checked the time on his cell phone. Where the fuck was Red?