Old Lady (Iron Disciples Book 2) (6 page)

“I understand you plan on removing the patch from his
back tonight. Is that still on the table?”

“Yes it’s fucking on the table. He’s not a Disciple
anymore. What’d you expect us to do?”

“You burning off a tattoo that big is gonna put him out
of commission for a long fucking time. People have died that way you know and
if Cade dies…all bets are off the fucking table.”

“So what are you saying?” Eddie asks.

“You can’t do it bro.” Bloody Ryan says. “We all need him
alive and healthy. The tattoo stays.”

“Fuck!” Eddie steps back from the circle and kicks his
feet in the dirt, swearing under his breath.

He was so looking forward to torching his brother tonight
and now it sounds like it can’t happen. After a minute he regains his cool and
approaches the guys.

“We’ll cover it up then with black ink. If he can’t take
that then he’s too big a pussy to have all your trust.”

“Can’t happen.” Gunnar, the Kings leader presses.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie rages as he steps
back and draws his weapon, pointing at his brother’s head. “Maybe I should just
blow his fucking head off!”

The other men react instinctively and in a flash there
are 7 angry men pointing guns with itchy trigger fingers. Adrenaline soars and
hearts pound in anticipation of what seems to be the inevitable shootout. Then
Cade lowers his 9mm and set’s in on the ground. He turns to the two Latin Kings
motioning for them to calm down.

“Everybody just chill. Lower your weapons slowly. There’s
no reason we should be starting WWIII today. We’re not the enemy. The Juarez
Cartel is the enemy here. Come on brothers, lower your weapons.”

Bloody Ryan is the next one to lower his .45, and he
motions for his right hand man to do the same. Then the Latin Kings follow suit
until the only one with a gun still in hand is Eddie. After a tense minute he
swears under his breath and sets his Glock in the dirt.

This time it’s Gunnar, the Kings leader who speaks first.
“Your brother has to keep his patch
and
he gets a place at your table.”

It takes all the strength Eddie can muster to keep from
reaching for his back up piece. Instead his eyes shoot bullets at the other
men.

“He doesn’t have to be an officer,” Gunnar continues.
“But he needs to have a position of some power in the club. People gotta
respect him for him to effectively be the referee here. Without him there’s no
deal, there’s no truce, and its all- out war. We’ll do whatever we have to do
to keep the Cartel out of our territory even if that means stepping on Outkasts
and Disciples toes in the process. It’s about survival brothers, and we aim to
survive.”

“Fine!” Eddie spits. “He can sit at the table but he doesn’t
get a fucking title. He can still be a member but no way in hell am I gonna
listen to him about anything but our little deal we set up today. When it comes
to
my
club he’s a fucking silent partner.”

The Kings leader looks over to Cade. “Can you live with
that?” He asks.

Cade nods.

“Then I agree as well.” Bloody Ryan says.

“Then it’s settled,” Cade begins. “Now we need to talk
logistics.”

For the next two hours the new allies work out the
details of their combined drug and gun business. In the end everyone walks away
smiling inside and counting the money they’ll soon be making.

“Shut up weirdo!”

“Dad, he said it again.”

Fists fly. Eddie launches himself across the couch towards
his bigger twin brother Cade. His first punch lands on Cade’s shoulder
eliciting a fake howl of pain. A second punch connects with his nose however
and this time the pain is real. He reacts with a pointy elbow right into Eddie’s
soft stomach. Eddie bends over gasping for air, tears sprout from the corners
of his eyes.

“Daaaaaaad!” Eddie hollers again.

Finally the boy’s father, Big Ed, stomps into the living
room, fists clenched in anger. “Oh my god, what are you guys fighting about
now? I swear I should do what my father used to do…see how you like it.”

That gets the boys attention. Eddie stops crying. “What
did he do?”

“He tied our damn hands together and made us fight until
we learned how to get along.”

“Did it work?” Eddie asks.

“Yeah it did so if keep going with this crap I’m gonna do
the same thing. Are you listening Eddie?”

“Yeah um…if we keep fighting…your…uh…I forgot.”

“Dammit Eddie why can’t you listen just once? I’m gonna
tie your left hands together and make you fight until you decide you’ve had
enough. Or until I decide you’ve had enough. Do you understand me Eddie?”

“Yes…I heard you. You’ll tie our hands together.”

“And quit your crying.” Big Ed rants. “How you gonna be
able to handle bullies at school if you can’t even stand up to your twin
brother. I don’t understand how Cade can be so confident and you’re more timid
than most girls your age or younger? I hate to use the word pussy but geeze
Eddie… come on, you’re supposed to be growing up here like Cade. I swear to god
he’s like two years older than you. Well, he acts like it anyway. You should
take lessons from him.”

Having said his piece their father stomps away before he
can see the effect his speech is having on Eddie who buries his face in the
couch and begins to cry while his brother picks up a book and begins to read.
Then after a few minutes he grows tired of hearing his brother crying.

“Shut up Eddie. You act like your hurt or something. Quit
being a baby!”

Their father walks back into the room and just catches
Cade’s remarks.

“Oh my god, he’s crying? Are you serious? Eddie look at
me!”

Slowly Eddie lifts his puffy red face from the cushions.
Snot’s running out of his nose and into his mouth. Cade looks on in disgust.

“It’s like he isn’t even my brother. Are you sure we’re twin’s
dad?”

“I’m sorry to say, you are twins. I know it ain’t fair is
it?” Then he turns his attention to Eddie. “You hear me boy? Even your twin
brother doesn’t believe he’s related to you. How pathetic is that?”

“What’s…p-pathetic?” He chokes.

“It means you’re too damn sorry to be a part of this
family, that’s what it means, now shut up and quit being a baby. Go wash your
face and if I see you crying again I’m gonna give you a real reason to cry.”

Eddie jumps up from the couch, crying again, and runs
into the bathroom.

Big Ed regards his
good
son. “What the hell was I
thinking, naming
him
after me? I wanna know if he’s not out of that
bathroom in three minutes. You got it Cade?”

“Yeah dad, I got it.”

Big Ed turns and stomps into the kitchen for another
beer. “Fucking kids…” He mumbles under his breath. “They’re gonna be the death
of me if they don’t start acting like normal kids.”

He grabs two tall frosty golden brown bottles and sets
them on the counter with a crack. He twists off the top of both bottles and
proceeds to knock them both back in a matter of seconds. He has always been
able to just open up his throat and pour it in and he does that now. It was
always his go to trick in college for impressing the chicks and brothers alike.
He could get a buzz on faster than anyone he’d ever known. Big Ed gets up,
ambles over to the fridge again and takes out two more frosty ones and knocks
them back while still standing in front of the open door to the ice box.
Footsteps behind him remind him he’s not alone. He turns around and finds Eddie
standing behind him sniffing back tears.

“What?” He barks.

Eddie opens his mouth to speak, but his voice fails him
and he turns and runs back out. The slam of the bathroom door tells Big Ed his
weakling of a son has retreated to the bathroom; again. He considers banging on
the bathroom door and dragging his son out but the lure of the drink keeps him
hovering at the open refrigerator. He reaches in for another brew, and then
stops himself. Something stronger would be much better. Big Ed wanders over to
the pantry and scrounges around until he locates a bottle of Patron.

“This’ll do nicely.”

He decides to have just two shots then he’ll be in a
better mood to deal with his cry baby son. Four shots and two beers later Ed
meanders over to the bathroom but finds it empty. He goes to the boy’s bedroom
and finds Eddie in bed with the pillow over his head.

“Tell me you’re not still fucking crying!” He charges.

When he fails to get a response he decides stronger
measures are needed to set his son straight. Slowly he unbuckles his leather
belt and coils it around his right hand. He walks over to his son and gives him
one more chance to grow up.

“You got to the count of five before I give you something
to cry about.”

The snuffling stops momentarily, then renews with fervor.
Big Ed has had enough. Time to toughen up his wimpy son. He raises a well-
muscled right arm, pausing for a second before swiftly passing judgment.
Eddie’s shrieks are piercing. He stops, staring at the dark welts across his
son’s back. He considers giving his son one more round when he hears a muffled
sound behind him. He turns and fixes his other son with his unabashed rage.

“What?” He snaps.

“N-n-nothing…” He mumbles before turning and walking back
out of the room, lacking the desire or courage to intervene on his twin
brother’s behalf.

Cade knows he is doing the wrong thing, leaving the room.
Sticking up for his brother should be something he does naturally but he just
can’t bring himself to stand tall against the might of his violent father. One
more time he swallows his emotional pain and takes one more step in a process
that will separate him from Eddie forever; regardless of any physical
proximity.

That evening when his brother finally emerges from their
bedroom he fixes Cade with a miserable glare. Somehow his brother must know he
stood there and watched their father whip him. Maybe it’s written all over his
face. It’s an all too familiar scenario, one that will never play itself out.
It’s what defined the brother’s relationship as children and it infects their
every interaction as adults.

The next morning I wake to voices in the living room. I
hadn’t planned on staying here. After Cade left to find his balls I just wanted
to stick around to be here when he got back. Being his father’s house that
meant I had to share it with his explosive bad mood; not something I relish.
Still in a walking cast I don’t get around all that well so it is just easier
to stick it out until his son returns.

I look at the clock while getting dressed. It’s almost
nine in the morning. How quickly my early to rise early to bed habit gets
forgotten. I’m pretty sure one of the voices is Cade’s father Big Ed, but the
other voice I can’t quite make out. They must be in the living room or
something. I head into the kitchen and make a pot of coffee. Ten minutes later
with the perfect cup of coffee in hand I venture into the living room to see what’s
up. I’m hoping Cade has come home. I take a sip of the steaming, delicious
liquid as I step into the living room.