Page 28 of Rigid

I pulled my vape from my pocket, took a long pull, and exhaled it in his direction. “My bad, Brother. Shit, I forgot.”

“You always fucking forget.”

I shrugged. “I can’t remember shit.”

He glared at me, and then folded his arms across his chest.

I considered folding my arms in a similar fashion just to piss him off, but realized if I did, I wouldn’t be able to blow smoke in his face. So, I decided not to.

The club’s Sergeant-at-Arms, Pee Bee, was leaning against the workbench with a bottle of beer dangling from his fingertips. Standing 6’-8” and solid muscle from head to toe, he was an intimidating motherfucker, but his heart was made of gold.

I glared at Crip until he broke my gaze, and then gave Pee Bee a nod.

“What’s shakin’, motherfucker?” he asked.

“Just trying to make enough money to buy a new set of cams,” I said. “Cholo whipped my ass the other night, and I’m sick of it. How’s things?”

He shrugged. “Things are good.”

I looked at Crip. “So, what’s the emergency, Crip?”

“No emergency. Just need to figure something out.” He glanced at my vape and then shook his head. “Ought to make a rule against those motherfuckers in the shop.”

I raised my vape. “Against this?”

He nodded.

I pressed the fire button, inhaled for as long as I could, and exhaled a flume of vapor so large that it encompassed them both. “Let me know when you do, I’ll turn in my kutte.”

He waved his hands, frantically trying to clear the air in front of him. “That shit’s going to end up killing us.”

I folded my arms over my chest and shot him a glare. “And you pricks getting drunk and riding in the front of formation will end up killing the entire club.”

“That’s different,” he said. “I’m serious.”

“I’m serious. Make a one-beer limit. Then, add something against farting and fucking to the bylaws. And loud noises. Oh, and leaving oil spots on your precious fucking concrete floor. Make a rule against scratching our nuts, too. Outsiders might see it as pretentious. They’d see us as the big cocked biker club. Hell, that’d be the end of us.”

He crossed his arms, looked me up and down, and then met my gaze. “I’m about sick and fucking tired of that attitude, Smoke.”

Shielded from Crip’s view, Pee Bee cocked and eyebrow and grinned. He knew the remark would irritate me, and was obviously waiting eagerly for my response.

“I’m about sick and fucking tired of you being an arrogant prick,” I said.

He flexed his biceps. “Come again?”

“You heard me.” I lifted my chin slightly and waited for his blood to boil.

His face went flush. He inhaled a shallow breath and jutted his chest out. I coughed out a laugh and nodded toward the SEAL tattoo on his upper arm. “What am I supposed to do now? Lower my head and tell you I’m sorry?”

He took another short breath, and I was sure a response was coming, but I didn’t give him a chance to speak. I waved my hand toward Pee Bee. “Peeb here can’t do wrong in your eyes, and Cholo’s pretty close to the same. Rowdy could come burn this shop down, and you’d help him clean up the fucking mess. Me? I smoke my vape and rev my motor, and you’re ready to crucify me. You treat P-Nut the same fucking way. Always on his ass. Consistency, motherfucker. I want consistency. Equality--”

His hands shot to his hips. “You fucking done?”

I shook my head. “Did I sound like I was done? You fucking interrupted me. That’s what I’m talking about. Give and get, asshole. Give respect. You’ll get it back.”

“Jesus, Smokey. I treat you with respect. I treat all the fellas with respect. You’re a prick most of the time, and I act accordingly.”

I shrugged. “And you’re a prick all the time, and I act accordingly.”