was our president, and he got the idea that we weren’t making enough money up north. In the city, we had to fight against gangs and the mafia. Everyone got a piece. Lonnie wanted more. Elko is a nice little setup, and he planned to steal it.”
Nuzzling her head, I chuckle. “Lonnie was so fucking stupid. I didn’t realize that then. I never knew what was happening in the club, really. I understand better now because I follow around Bronco a lot. But back then, I figured Lonnie knew how to run a place like Elko. Now, I realize he wouldn’t have the brains to handle so many little details. His men could sell dope, women, and guns, but they mostly just used the dope, fucked the women, and shot the guns in the air. We were a joke. Violent and evil and fucked up, sure, but small time. Just keeping track of the taxes here would have gotten Lonnie in trouble within the first year. He didn’t know how to do more than hurt people.”
“And you killed him?”
“For Bronco. To pay the price of safety here or to repay him for not killing me. I didn’t have much of a plan. I only knew the Killing Joes ambushed Bronco’s friend and brother-in-law. That was the kind of dumb shit Lonnie did. He had no plan. He saw a chance to kill one of the Executioners, and he fucked up Wheels. He wanted to piss off the Executioners, and he did. Ambushing Wheels didn’t help the Killing Joes take Elko, though. Lonnie only knew how to murder people, so that’s what he did. He was a moron.”
“Like John Marks.”
“Exactly.”
“Why do dumb-dumbs get to be in charge?”
Pressing my lips to her head, I murmur, “Because weak people let them.”
“But you killed Lonnie.”
“Bronco came into the drug house where I was hiding out. The Executioners were rolling around Cleveland, looking for us again. Lonnie said everyone needed to keep a low profile until the other club gave up. We would then go to Elko and kill their people. Burn this community to the ground. Lonnie had big plans that wouldn’t make us money. I didn’t know that then. Didn’t care really. I was wasted every moment of the day. What did I care who we went to war with?”
Wrapping her tighter against me, I think of how I’d never know the feel of this woman if Bronco pulled that trigger. “Me too. I didn’t understand why he let me live, but I decided I would make us even. Which is stupid, right? I didn’t care if I died. I hadn’t begged to live. I didn’t owe him shit. He would have done me a favor by putting a bullet in my head. But I still felt like it was a sign from God or something.”
“And you killed that moron Lonnie and got Bronco his revenge.”
“Yeah. Killing those guys was easy. Shit, cutting off their heads was the hardest part.”
After hearing those kinds of details, Pixie probably thinks I’m a monster. Why aren’t I more careful about what I say? Probably because of the pot I smoked. She doesn’t react to my heads comment, though. Probably because of the pot she smoked.
“I drove here and told the guy at the security gate how I had a gift for Bronco. I was feeling like a big shit that day. Look at me, killing people like I always do. Whoop-de-fucking-doo. But I wanted to impress him.”
“Because you never had a papa.”
“I don’t know about that. I mean, Bronco isn’t old enough to be my dad.”
“Perry liked when John Marks praised him. It was dumb-dumb stuff. Perry only did what he always did like carry wood from the supply shed to the main house where the elders talk. Then John Marks would say how Perry showed real promise. Mama told Dove and me how Perry’s papa died when he was little. That’s why he’s a dumb-dumb with older men now. His heart craves what he didn’t get from his papa.”
I think about Bronco. He’s about a dozen years older. About the same age difference as Pixie and me. I sure don’t feel like her dad, and I hope she doesn’t see me that way.
“I guess, if I could choose a dad, I would want Bronco,” I admit after a minute. “He takes real good care of his girls. A few months ago, he found out he had a