My only solace was the fact that I wouldn't be left in the wind for long. One way or another, this whole fucking mess was temporary. Either I found a way back under the Steel Veins' protection, or someone with a score to settle would catch me with my guard down and that'd be the end of that.
A hard rain loomed above me.
The alcohol drained, I sent the bottle gliding off the table. The tough glass thudded against the floor, still very much intact, before spiraling into the kitchen. I found myself grinding my palm into my forehead, as if I could push the doubt out of my mind manually. There was no escaping the truth of it all. My excuses were see through and stretched thinner than plastic wrap.
What the fuck was I thinking? I scolded myself. I should've walked away with Repo, but no, I was too blinded, like always.
I was so full of shit that the smell of the lies nauseated me. Duty may have brought me to that meeting, but Poet was right. My pride forced me to stay.
Sometimes it was so damn hard to call it like it was. There was no honor in the way I fought for Flora, just self-serving pettiness. I'd saved her for all the wrong reasons. I couldn't let a slight against me go unpunished, and I'd used her as an excuse.
Because of that, both of us would suffer.
“What the fuck, Ronin!” Roach burst into the room from the kitchen and looked over the damages.
“Nah, fuck...” I wiped the water from my eyes before he could see. Fishing out a stack of twenties, I tossed it on his desk. I had no idea how much I gave him, it was probably too much, but I didn't care. It was only money. “Sorry, Roa— Sorry.”
He ran a hand over his thinning hair and grumbled something under his breath. His inspection complete, he walked to his desk with another half empty bottle of Jim Beam. Roach snatched up the money, flipping through it with the dexterity of an aging con man. Begrudgingly satisfied with the amount, he tossed me the bottle.
Within a few seconds I had the cap off, eagerly pulling swigs. I just wanted to drown in a waterfall of bourbon.
He lingered, then sighed and awkwardly asked, “Bad news, huh?”
Roach wasn't a friend, not that I had many to begin with. He was more of a useful associate of the club. Before the Knights of the Only Order set up shop here, another gang ran this area. For whatever reason, they didn't like Roach or the rundown motel he'd owned.
They'd occasionally break in and trash his place. They'd trash him, too, if he was there. I was the one to politely convince them to fuck off and leave him alone. Ever since then, Roach has always hooked me up when I rolled through.
Some time back, Roach's shitty motel burned down. With the insurance money, he bought this little gem. All things considered, Roach was a shifty guy, hence the nickname, but he always came in handy as a set of eyes in an area where the Steel Veins weren’t so welcome.
“Something like that,” I said in between sips. Roach shuffled uneasily, it was obvious that he had something else to say and it wouldn't be any more strained niceties. “The hell is it?” I looked up at him. “You wanna offer me your shoulder to cry on?”
The apprehension in his face soured, but his expression lightened as he began to speak. “I wasn't listening in...”
“You—” I shot to my feet. I wasn't exactly discreet while talking to Poet, but eavesdropping on club business? A guy like Roach should've been smart enough to know that shit like that was bad for his health.
“Wait, wait! I wasn't listening in but!” Roach threw his hands up and shuffled backwards a step. “I may be able to help you out of your... situation.”
I was drunk, pissed off, and in no mood to have my patience tested. “Talk fast.”
“Okay, Okay. Listen, it sounds like that girl upstairs is nothing but a problem. I can take her off your hands for you, maybe smooth all this over with the Knights.”
“The fuck are you working with the Knights for? You switch sides on us, Roach?” I grabbed a wad of his sweater vest and jerked him towards me. “You know the Steel Veins' policy on rats.”
“I'm not working with them, but of course I know them! They come by every month to collect their extortion money—”
“Last I checked, the Veins compensate you for that.”
“As long as I keep providing information! How the hell am I supposed to give your MC what they want if I don't know the enemy?” Roach's explanation was quick and emphatic.
He was worried that I might put him through the same hole in the wall that my fist made earlier. I thought about it for a minute; Roach was sleazy by nature, I'm sure he would've deserved it, regardless.
I let him go. I wasn't thinking clearly, I was trying to solve problems, not make more.
“Okay,” he said, breathing a little easier, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt. “I'll call them and set a pickup for the girl tomorrow night in exchange for them dropping whatever beef they have with you.”