Clutch: Satan's Fury MC (10 page)

“Can’t you take me? I don’t want to go with Gammy. She always gets nervous and stuff.”

“I can’t today. I’m too far behind. We even brought in extra help. That’s why Clutch is here.”

“If you want to take him, I’ll cover you. Don’t mind staying late,” I offered.

“Please, daddy,” Kevin pleaded.

“I’ll go with you to the doctor, but when we’re done, you’re going home with your grandmother.”

“I can do that.” Kevin grinned. “Thanks, Clutch.”

“No problem, little man. Good luck at the doctor’s.”

On their way out the door, Blaze turned back to me and said, “I should be back in about an hour. Call me if you need anything. Lowball has my number.”

I spent the next few hours finishing up on the Ford’s engine, and once I had it up and running, I headed over to Blaze’s Chevy. He’d been working on the carburetor, so I finished the disassembly and was just about done cleaning it when Blaze walked back into the garage. The minute he hit the doorway, I could see that something was wrong. He came over to me and said, “I’ve got it from here. You can go on home if you want.”

“Nah, I’m good for another hour. Is everything alright with Kevin?”

He let out a deep breath. “No … no it’s not. He tested negative for the flu, and the doctor couldn’t be sure why his fever was so high. There’s a small chance that his cancer is back, so they are running some more tests. We won’t know anything for sure until tomorrow.”

“That’s rough, man. How long has he been in remission?”

“Just over a year. He had a hard go of it. Spent almost a year in and out of St. Jude, but he finally beat it. I don’t think I could take watching him go through all of that all over again.” He ran his hand through his hair and sighed as he said, “He’s been through so much already. Lost his mom a couple years back, and just when he was getting past it, we found out he had Leukemia.”

“Fuck, man. I hate to hear that. If you don’t mind me asking, what happened with his mother?”

“Car accident. She was hit by a drunk driver … killed her instantly. She meant everything to me and losing her just about did me in, but having Kevin around got me through. Don’t think I would’ve made it without him.”

“Bet he’d say the same about you. It’s good you’ve got each other, and if the cancer is back, it’ll be tough, but you’ll get through it. There’s no other choice but to get through it, and you’ve got brothers who have your back when things go south.”

“Been lucky there. Couldn’t ask for more.” He looked over at the old Ford and said, “Let’s just call it a night. I’ll come in early tomorrow and catch up.”

“Sounds like a plan. I need to stop and grab some paint on my way home anyway. Need to get there before the hardware store closes.”

“What kind of paint do you need?”

“Got a little project going on in my neighbor’s bathroom.”

With his eyebrow raised with suspicion, he smiled and asked, “What kind of project?”

“Man, you don’t even want to know. Let’s just say that I’m helping out a damsel in distress,” I chuckled.

“I bet you are!” He laughed. “We’ve got a couple of cans in the back from where Gus had the boys paint the office. Nothing fancy, but you’re welcome to it.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that. Shouldn’t take much.”

“Take all you want, and there’s paintbrushes and rollers back there, too,” he let me know. “I’m heading out. Just lock up before you leave.”

“Will do. Thanks, brother.”

By the time I’d gotten everything strapped to my bike and back to the apartment, it was after six, which didn’t give me much time to finish up the bathroom before Hazel got home. I hauled everything upstairs, and when I knocked on the door, Cindy shouted from the other side, “Who is it?”

“Clutch,” I answered.

She opened the door with a huge smile on her face and said, “Hey. What’s up?”

“Gonna finish the bathroom, but I’m going to need an assistant. You up for a little painting?”

“I’m not sure if I’d be any good at it, but I’ll give it a shot,” she offered.

“I don’t think it could look any worse. Do you?” I asked as I headed down the hall.

“Guess not.” She followed me. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Since the bathroom is small, we’re gonna go on and paint all of it,” I told her as I laid out a tarp on the floor. I opened the can of paint and handed her a brush as I said, “You start on that wall while I finish patching this hole.”

“Is there a right way to do this?” she asked.

“Nope. Just go up and down with the brush until you cover the entire wall. That’s about it.”

She did a few strokes and then said, “This is so cool. Thanks for letting me help.”

“Doing good. I knew you’d make a good assistant.”

We hadn’t been working long when David stuck his head in and said, “Hey. What’s going on?”

“I’m helping Clutch paint. Doesn’t it look good?” she asked proudly.

“Looks a lot better already. You need any help?”

“We got it,” she insisted.

David ignored her and grabbed one of the extra brushes and started painting the spots that his sister couldn’t reach. In just over an hour, the hole was patched and we’d finished painting the entire bathroom. The kids helped me clean up the mess, and I was long gone before Hazel got home from work. I was exhausted. My body ached everywhere and my head was pounding, so I skipped dinner and made myself comfortable on the sofa. I didn’t even bother turning on the TV, choosing instead to listen to the comforting sounds of Hazel and the happy kids talking next door as I fell asleep.

“It looks great. I can’t believe you helped him do all this,” I told them as I stared at my new bathroom. With the fresh paint and fixtures, it didn’t even look like the same room.

“I think Mom would have really liked it,” Hadley whispered.

“Yeah, I think she would’ve been really impressed with all of your hard work,” I agreed as I gave her a quick hug.

She looked up at me and asked, “Can we get a new shower curtain to match the new wall color?”

“That’s a great idea. Maybe we can go look for one when you get out of school. I’m only working one shift tomorrow, so I’ll be off early.”

“Can we get some more cereal, too?” Charlie asked. “Hadley ate all the marshmallows out of the one I liked. Now all we have is the one with oats and raisins and it sucks.”

“I did not eat all the marshmallows!”

“Yeah, you did. You always do. There’s nothing but dry cereal left and it’s gross,” Charlie complained.

“We’ll get some more cereal. It’s not the end of the world. We need to get some other groceries while we are out.”

“We need to get the stuff to make Clutch’s cake, too,” Hadley reminded me. “Do you remember how to make it?”

“I think we can figure it out,” I assured her. “I’ll get us a list started, and as soon as I get off work, we’ll go do some shopping. For now, I’m going to make us something for dinner. Have you both finished all of your homework?”

“All done,” Hadley said proudly.

Charlie grumbled something under his breath, and then said, “I’ve got to finish up another paper for Mrs. Cole. She’s such a pain. I don’t think that woman likes anything. She’s always giving everybody bad grades, and this paper we have to write is just stupid.”

“Maybe I could help you with it,” I offered. “What’s it about?”

“I don’t even know. Something about
The Scarlet Letter
. The book was okay, but she wants us to write from the woman’s perspective or something stupid like that. I’m not some chick, so how am I supposed to write about her stinking perspective?”

“Yeah, I can definitely help with that one. I read that book in high school, too. You’ll have to remind me of a few things, but I’m sure we can get it done. Let me fix something for us to eat, and then we’ll knock it out.”

“Cool. You want some help with dinner?”

“I’ve got it. I’m going to warm up some stew and make some grilled cheese sandwiches.”

He started walking towards his bedroom and shouted, “I want two! I’m starving.”

“You’re always starving,” I shouted back with a snicker.

After dinner, Charlie and I spent a couple of hours working on his paper, and by the time we were finished, I think it turned out pretty well. For someone who thought he knew nothing about the female’s perspective, he had some pretty good insight where the book was concerned. Hadley was already sound asleep when I made my way to my spot on the sofa, and it didn’t take long for me to join her in a deep slumber.

We woke up the next morning and hit the ground running. After work, we did our shopping, bought a few groceries and things for the house, finished laundry and homework, and then started on Clutch’s cake. When I pulled it out of the oven, Hadley was tickled that it looked just like the ones mom used to make.

“Can I help with the icing?” she asked.

“Absolutely. You can do it all, but we need to wait for it to cool off first,” I explained. The entire apartment smelled like chocolate heaven, and it was hard not to steal a taste for ourselves. “I think we’re going to need to make another one, though.”

“Why?” Hadley asked with a worried look.

“Look at it. Don’t you want some?” I giggled. “Let’s make another one just for us.”

“Really? That would be awesome!”

In no time, we had the second cake made, and Hadley was ready to start decorating the first. She was so cute sitting there trying her best to be precise and make the cake look perfect. She spent almost an hour making sure it was just right, and once she was done, she looked over to me and asked, “How does it look?”

I walked over to her, and as I looked at the beautiful creation, I said, “It looks amazing, Hadley. Clutch is going to love it.”

“I hope so. He’s been really nice, and I really want him to like it.”

“Of course he’s going to like it, sweetheart. It’s mom’s special recipe we’re talking about here. He’d have to be crazy not to love it.”

“Can we take it over to him now?”

“I don’t know. It’s getting a little late. I’d hate to wake him up. Maybe we can give it to him tomorrow,” I suggested.

“But it’s fresh now!”

“Okay.” I gave in to those big pleading eyes of hers. I did my best to wrap it up without smearing the icing, then said, “Let’s go see if he’s home.”

“I’ll carry it,” she insisted as she lifted it up off the counter. She was beaming with pride as we walked towards his door. Once I’d knocked, I looked over to her and thought she’d come unglued with impatience as we waited for him to answer the door.

He didn’t answer, so I knocked again. Finally, I heard him rustling around, and seconds later the door eased open. Clutch stood there with his hand propped against the doorframe wearing only a pair of basketball shorts. We were not greeted by the irritatingly playful neighbor we’d recently become accustomed to, but instead were faced with what looked like a ghost of the man we’d come to know. He was in a sad state. I was immediately concerned when I saw that all the color had completely drained from his face. There were dark circles under his eyes and tiny beads of sweat covering his brow, and I could see that he was having a hard time even standing. He looked over to me and tried to speak, but a strangled cough stole his words.

When he continued to hack and groan, I turned to Hadley and said, “Go back to the apartment.”

Even though I knew she and Charlie had been given their flu shots, I didn’t want to take any chances. With a disgruntled look, Hadley placed the cake in my hands and asked, “Is he going to be okay?”

“He’ll be fine,” I assured her. Once she was gone, I turned back to Clutch and said, “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit,” he answered with his voice strained and hoarse. “Don’t know what the hell is wrong.”

“We need to get you back in the bed.” I walked past him and placed the cake down on the table before returning. I slipped my hand around his elbow, giving him a slight tug as I led him across the living room and into his bedroom. Realizing for the first time just how big he really was, I said, “You’re tall.”

“No. You’re just short.” He tried to laugh but just ended up coughing.

“I’m almost five-ten. That’s not short,” I corrected him. When we reached the edge of his bed, I pulled back the covers and said, “Get in.”

“Bossy little thing, aren’t ya,” he mumbled as he crawled into the bed. The muscles in his arms and legs began to tremble as he reached for the covers, and after he pulled the blankets up to his chin, he whined, “It’s freezing in here.”

“It’s not cold.” I placed the palm of my hand on his forehead and said, “You’re burning up. We really need to get you to a doctor.”

“No, I just need some sleep,” he argued, barely able to keep his eyes open. “Maybe some aspirin or something. My head is pounding and I hurt everywhere. I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck.”

“I’ll get you something for the fever. It will help with the aches and pains,” I told him as I walked out of the room. When I returned from my apartment a few minutes later with some Tylenol cold medicine, a bottle of Gatorade, and a cold rag, he’d already fallen asleep. He looked so sweet lying there, almost angelic, and I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. I knelt down beside him and gently nudged him until his eyes crept open. “You need to take this.”