Page 60 of Wheelie's Challenge
Throttle tilted his head. “If Tigger knows what’s good for him, he’ll already be hauling ass outta town.”
“Get Tigger’s ass back over here. He’s got some money he’s gotta pay back to the club, and we owe him a beatdown,” Banger said.
“There’s no fuckin’ way he’s coming back,” Wheelie said, but he knew Tigger couldn’t leave Sofia that easily. He’d be crazed with power and control over her, and retribution for what she and Wheelie did.
Later that night, Wheelie tried to see Sofia, but Belle told him that under Doc’sandBanger’s orders, she was to rest. It drove him crazy that only a wooden door kept them apart, but that door happened to belong to the president, and Wheelie’s ass had been saved earlier that day, so he didn’t want to test the waters with Banger.
“Tell her I came by,” he said to Belle.
She smiled. “I’ll tell her. Sofia’s going to be just fine. When she’s stronger, I’ll let you know, and you can come by and see her.”
Wheelie walked back to his bike and looked up at the windows, wondering which of them led into Sofia’s room. He wanted to see her real bad; he wanted to hold her close and tell her was sorry for not protecting her. The craving for her overwhelmed him, and it was like there was a hole in his chest that only Sofia could fill.
Wheelie threw his head back and stared at the dark sky. It seemed like the stars were hung above him by invisible strings, resembling the bright lanterns the club girls had put up around the club’s yard. The subtle scent of wisteria and tall grass danced on the warm breeze, conjuring up memories of the afternoon he’d spent with Sofia at Hanging Lake.
I need you, babe. Be strong and get better real soon.
Wheelie swung a leg over his bike and rode away into the darkness.
Chapter Seventeen
Russ Elmore smackedthe ass of the cheap whore he picked up on El Cajon Boulevard an hour before. Mascara was smeared under her eyes, making her look like a raccoon, as she sat up and reached for her clothes.
“Do you got the pills you promised me for fuckin’ me in the ass?” The woman pulled her tube top over her bare tits.
Russ laughed and tossed her a small baggie with two white pills in it. “If your pimp finds out he’s gonna beat your ass.”
“He ain’t gonna find out.” She straightened out her miniskirt then slipped on patent-leather red stilettos. “You ain’t gonna tell him, right?” Fear whispered on her face.
“No worries. I don’t like pimps. You ladies do all the work, and they collect the money. Doesn’t seem right.” Russ stretched his arms above his head and yawned. “Close the door behind you.”
After splashing cold water on his face, Elmore sat on the tattered chair and lit up a joint. He looked around the dilapidated motel room and cursed himself for blowing it with Mallory. She was his goose-that-laid-the-golden-egg, but he’d let his temper get the better of him when she’d kept nagging him one Saturday afternoon. Russ had been hungover, and all he wanted was to watch TV, but Mallory had kept asking him if he was cheating on her. He’d told her no, but she wasn’t satisfied with the answer so she kept it up, and it fucking pissed him off. He snapped, and an hour later, he was stroking Mallory’s battered face and telling her how sorry he was.
Mallory hadn’t been too keen on forgiving him, and he supposed the fact she’d found a lacy blue thong under the carseat the next day hadn’t helped. She’d thrown his ass out, and here he was in a dump with a stained mattress, a busted AC, mold growing in the shower, and roaches to keep him company. He shook his head in disgust.A week ago I was watching the goddamn sun setting over the ocean, driving the Mustang convertible, and eating at steakhouses in La Jolla. Fuck!
Russ went over to the Styrofoam ice chest he’d stolen at Walmart and dug out his last can of Bud. He only had a few bucks left from the money he’d scammed out of Mallory several weeks before. Tucker hadn’t returned any of Elmore’s texts or calls in over two weeks. Part of him thought Wheelie had somehow got wind that Tucker was aiming for him, and another part blistered with rage on being double-crossed by the felon. Either way, Wheelie was still alive and most likely on his way to San Diego to cut off Russ’ balls before Wheelie killed him.
“I gotta get outta town. I can tell my parole officer that I can’t find a job and need to go inland to work on the farms.” After he threatened Mallory with all sorts of awful things that he and some of his friends from prison would do to her if she squealed on him to the cops or to parole, she’d told him all she wanted was for Russ to get the hell out of her life.Yeah… I fuckin’ blew that.
Russ had contacted everyone he knew, but they were all tapped out—just like him. He took out his phone and stared at it for a long moment while he guzzled down the beer.I fuckin’ wish I had another one.He’d have to steal some later that night. Sucking in a deep breath then slowly exhaling, he tapped in his mother’s phone number. It’d been years since he’d last spoken with her.
“Hello?” Suspicion laced her voice.
“Mom, how are you?” He pulled out a cigarette from the pack on the table and lit it.
“Russ? Are you calling me from prison?”
“No, I’m out. Just today,” he lied.
“Thank God. Why didn’t you let me come visit you all these years?” Her whining voice grated his nerves.
“No mother should see her son in prison. You still living in Colorado Springs?”
“Yes, your father and I are still here.”
Russ snorted. “You’restillwith him?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I be? He’s my husband. Your dad’s in the garage. Do you want to talk to him?”
