Mercenary Wolf

Ch 3

My crew knew what happened... and didn't know, not for sure. We didn't talk about it. They knew the cops investigated me. That girl had mentioned me to them. They knew Jimbo and I were together. They knew I wouldn't touch a drop of booze, not a drop of beer even, not after that night.

I focused more on business. I worked out more. I converted my house to accommodate my desire to work out, to release the tension that never left me. I invited the guys to come work out. I made sure my guys were in top shape.

Before long there were bets being made, requests to come work out with us from other crews. Before I knew it I was running an organized fight club once a month. We knew too many guys who wanted to test and prove themselves. I brought Jimbo in, asked for his help to make sure I didn't get into trouble with it.

He brought a doc in, made sure the guys actually signed a release before they fought. We set up some guidelines and boundaries. We worked out the money.

Jimbo understood why I wanted to make sure I could control myself. Funny thing, as much as I worked out hitting the bag, I was actually hesitant when it came to fighting. I worked the knives with Eddie,  I did some kickboxing, I worked with nunchucks. During fight night I was too busy organizing things to actually fight.

I didn't use my fists. I was afraid of what I might do. Let me tell you, living in fear of yourself sucks, seriously sucks.

Things went decent enough for awhile.

One day I couldn't get hold of Jimbo. I mean, I could always get hold of him, and now I couldn't. A few days went by. No contact whatsoever from Jimbo.

I began to get worried.

I called everyone he had been in contact with as a bounty hunter. I even called police stations.

Finally I called his sis. She was scared that creep of her baby's daddy had gotten to him. I tried to reassure her. This rock took up its home in my gut.

The guys were by my side. We treated it like a mission. Last place he'd been seen was the Windy City. We checked traffic cams, any security cams we could get hold of. We interviewed with more pressure than cops ever could. We leaned on gangs and drug lords. I got good at pulling my fist out of a wall next to somebody's head. We did everything. He literally disappeared. His hog disappeared with him.

I was a nervous wreck. I don't know how many times I walked into a liquor store just to walk out. I'd promised him.

I moved his sis again just to be on the safe side so she wouldn't worry. I put our crew mark near her old place so if he went by he'd know she was safe. I visited her once a month, made sure she didn't want for anything. Wherever he was, he had to know I would take care of his sis for him. Because of him, she was family.

Eddie helped me keep up with the night club. Eddie had a hidden talent when it came to running the place. I took care of security there, it kept me occupied.

I took on more local, and by that I mean stateside, security. I began placing our guys in all sorts of places. We used the resources from all kinds of different companies looking for any clue to what happened to Jimbo.

For a year there was no word. I sent the guys out on missions overseas but stayed home myself. I couldn't bear to not be there should the day come when he needed me.

Almost a year to the day I heard a bike outside my house. When I went out it peeled off. It was him, I knew it. I didn't get why he wouldn't stop. I called the crew in. We tried to track him. Gone.

We even added this new kid to our crew, a computer hacker. He worked miracles, with no results.

I was wondering if I was loosing it, if I had imagined him. I went and bought a small bottle of Jack Daniels, just a tiny one. I didn't drink it. I put it under my sink. I'd take it out, put it in the middle of the kitchen table, and stare at it for hours before putting it back.

Two months later he was back, sitting on my porch waiting, no bike in sight. I stood there a sec when I got out of my truck, half afraid I'd spook him if I moved. He patted the step next to him.

"Don't talk. I just... I need...."

He was fucked up. Seriously. His whole body started trembling. When I reached out he flinched away. From me! Obviously flinched. His shoulder must have moved a foot away.

"Don't, please!"

He actually scooted away from me.

"This was a mistake."

"How the hell is your coming to me a mistake brother? You pulled me outta the high water, I'd go through hell for you. You say the word, me and the guys are here for you. If you're worried about the guys, you have me at your side. Whatever you need. You know it!"

"Not this hell."

And he got up and walked off. I tried to go after him. He held up his hand, stopping me. "I'll be back, just don't, don't push me."

We stood there for a minute, staring at each other. I wondered if he could see the pain his rejection of my help caused in me. I could see both pain and longing in him.

"If that's what you want bro, I'll be here waiting. I'll always be here for you."

I spent the rest of the night staring at that damn bottle under my sink. I sat on my kitchen floor. I couldn't even bring myself to touch it.