After another half hour of silence, other than the low music on the radio, Tiny turned his head slightly to speak to me.“Knuckles runs a tight ship.We’ve got legitimate business fronts now.Auto shop’s doing well.Custom work’s bringing in good money.Also help with a shelter for especially traumatized and terrorized women and children.”He shrugged.“Most of the time, we just have a couple guys stand outside the gate.Their… problems tend to give us a wide berth.”Tiny chuckled darkly.
“Legal?”I said, the word feeling strange on my tongue.
Tiny shrugged.“Mostly.Still got side hustles, but we’re careful.Knuckles makes sure of it.Shelter’s all on the up-and-up.”He spoke like the shelter was his pride and joy.I used to talk about my bike with that kind of reverence, so I knew this place meant something to the man.
There was another beat of silence before Rancor glanced at me in the rearview mirror.“We know what you did for Kiss of Death that put you behind bars.”He waited until I met and held his gaze.“That ain’t this club anymore.We have each other’s back, and no one takes the fall for anything.”
“Ain’t goin’ back.”I snarled the words before I could stop myself.“Gave my fuckin’ soul for this club once.Not sure I can do it again.If that’s a deal breaker, you can drop me off here.”
“Never said you had to, brother.Knuckles knows his people.You don’t have to prove anything.In his eyes, you’ve already proven everything he needed to see, and he’ll make sure you never go back.”
Rancor reached forward and turned up the volume slightly as “Sympathy for the Devil” came on.My fingers twitched involuntarily against my thigh.I’d had a cellmate who would sing this under his breath for hours, driving the guy in the next cell into a rage.Ended with a shank to the kidney during yard time.Though I liked the song, my cellie’s singing, not so much.And he was a dick.Fun times.
We crossed the state line into Kentucky, the landscape gradually shifting.The F-150 ate up the miles, comfortable in a way that made me uncomfortable.Too soft.
Tiny pulled into a truck stop off the interstate.“Need to fill up,” Tiny announced.“You want to stretch your legs?”
I shook my head.The thought of navigating the open space, the strangers, was all too much to attempt right now.
“Be right back,” Rancor said, unfolding himself from the passenger seat.“Taking a piss.”
I watched them through the windows as they moved around the station.Tiny pumped gas while Rancor disappeared inside, reappearing minutes later with a plastic bag.
A family pulled up at the neighboring pump, a man and woman, with two kids arguing in the back seat.The woman laughed at something the man said, her head tipping back to expose her throat.The children tumbled out, shoving at each other, voices high and piercing.One of them looked my way, curious eyes meeting mine before the mother called him back to her side.
I turned away, something hollow opening up in my chest.I’d forgotten what families looked like.Forgotten I used to want one of my own.
Tiny and Rancor returned to the truck, Tiny sliding behind the wheel while Rancor passed a plastic bag over the seat to me.
“Got you some water, a sandwich, chips,” he said.“Wasn’t sure what you’d want.”
I took the bag, not meeting his eyes.The scent of barbecue sauce wafted from the bag as I opened it.“Thanks.”The word came out rusty, unused.
I opened the water first, taking a quick pull before unwrapping the sandwich and taking a bite, nearly closing my eyes in bliss as rich barbecued pork exploded across my tongue.“Christ,” I muttered.
Rancor chuckled softly.“Yeah, man.I think I had basically the same reaction to my first good meal on the outside.”
“Ain’t sure that qualifies as a good meal,” Tiny muttered.
“A ham sandwich would be better than what we got in that place.”Rancor waved off Tiny’s words.I agreed with him.
“Still fuckin’ good.”I took another bite, fumbling with the napkin when I realized I probably looked like some kind of primitive who didn’t know how to eat in civilized company.One more thing to add to the list of things to get used to again.
Another hour and we entered the outskirts of Nashville.Tiny made a call and the sound came through the car radio.
“We got a room ready for him.”I’d recognize Knuckles’ voice anywhere.The man had literally saved my sanity the short time we’d been cellies.“He’s gonna want some time to himself to transition, but I don’t want him isolated.”
“You just assume he came with us,” Rancor said, shooting Tiny an amused grin.“Maybe he said fuck off.”
Knuckles barked out a laugh.“Oh, I’m sure he told you to fuck off.Just maybe not out loud.But yeah.I’m sure he came.I know my people, Rancor.”
“I came.”Not sure why I thought I had to speak up, but Knuckles only grunted.
“Of course you did.This is your home.Rat Man did you dirty.”
“Almost there, Prez,” Tiny said.“Ten minutes.”
“Good.I’ll meet you at the main warehouse.”There was a pause.“Hannah made sure you’d have everything you need,” he continued.“She talked to every fucking guy in the place, so she and the other women could give you as comfortable a place as they could.I know you’re not a man who’d want a fuss made or anything, but expect the old ladies to make sure you have plenty of home-cooked food in your fridge for when you’re hungry.”
