Size matters, p.5
Size Matters, page 5
She reached for some tissues and quickly blew her nose. “I will phone this order for you and handle it.”
“Did the cops bring the dogs to you?” Bull asked.
She shook her head. “No. They had been dumped along the road. The dogfighting thing is still going strong. They have no idea where it is.”
Bull nodded. “If you need to talk or if you want to take some time, let me know.”
“I will. I was hoping to come in today to just work, you know? It helps me when there is bad news to just dive in and work through it. It’s how I cope with things.” She picked up the piece of paper and saw the number along the top.
Bull lingered, and she forced a smile to her lips. She couldn’t believe she had unloaded all of that onto her boss. There was a high chance he was going to fire her.
The rest of the day was uneventful. Not many breakdowns. A few people came to pick up their cars.
Pat left early.
She and Bull stayed until five when he decided to close up shop.
They both stood outside of the gate as he locked it.
“I wanted to say thank you for earlier. I … I didn’t even realize I’d been holding it in, but then it just … came out.”
“Shit like that happens.” He flicked the keys between his fingers.
“I don’t cry over everything, I promise,” she said, laughing.
“You can cry any time, Maddie. I’m not going to hold it against you.” He glanced past her shoulder. “Do you want to go and grab a cup of coffee?”
“Er, yeah, sure, I’d like that.” This wasn’t weird, was it? It wasn’t a date or anything other than having coffee with the boss.
Bull shoved the keys into his jacket pocket, and they walked side by side, in silence.
Maddie couldn’t believe she was walking with Bull. Of all the men to be heading to the diner with, Bull was the last person she imagined.
“I wanted to say sorry about your loss,” he said.
“About the dog?”
“No, er, about your parents.”
“Oh,” she said. “Right, yes, they passed some time ago.”
“I never went to the funeral.”
She had to attempt to contain her laughter. “It’s fine. Not a lot of people turned up.”
It was her, the priest, and the two men who were going to bury her parents. At her dad’s it was her mother, and at her mother’s funeral, it was just her.
“Did you know my parents?” she asked.
“No, I can’t say that I did.”
She wasn’t going to tell him her mother would have found it an insult for him to go to her funeral. She could imagine her mother being ungrateful even in death.
Maddie chuckled. She just couldn’t help it. The very thought of this man going would have sent her mother turning in her grave.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“Oh, it’s nothing. Let me just say that my mother wasn’t always a nice person.” That was being nice about her.
“That, I get.”
“What about you?” she asked. “And your parents? Unless that is crossing a line.” The last thing she wanted to do was talk about herself. It felt safer to let him talk about his life.
“Not much to tell. Never knew my mother, and my dad passed some time ago.”
“He was alive though when Grant was still in school, right?”
“Yeah, he was. Why?”
“I don’t know. I think I would have remembered if he wasn’t.”
“I am sorry about Grant,” Bull said.
She glanced over at him and shrugged. “You don’t need to apologize for him.”
“My brother is an asshole.”
This made her smile. “I know.”
He chuckled.
They entered the diner together, and Maddie glanced over the crowd. Some of them instantly leaned forward and began whispering to each other.
Bull grabbed her hand, and at first, she tensed up at the contact. It was so strange to be touched by him, by anyone. Her parents hadn’t been the kind to share feelings like that. He held out a seat, and she sat down.
He let go of her hand, and she immediately placed it on her thigh, but Bull wasn’t done. He pushed her chair forward with ease and she slid closer to the table. His face was so close to her hair, and she couldn’t help but be aware of him at her back.
Get it together, Maddie.
Bull sat opposite her, and he removed his leather cut. He wore a plain white t-shirt that left most of his arms exposed, showing off the ink that decorated his skin. She rarely saw his ink while they were working. The overalls he wore covered him from ankle to cuff.
“Do you like them?” he asked, holding out his arms.
“Er, they’re … a lot.”
“You don’t like that?”
“I didn’t say that. I think you’re very brave having them. I couldn’t imagine having a tattoo. Does it hurt?” She wanted to cringe at her topic of conversation. Was this another reason men never wanted to go out with her?
“Sometimes, but I’ve grown used to certain levels of pain.” He grabbed a menu and she took the other.
Glancing over the food, she had no idea what to pick. She was so hungry, but if she ordered too much, would he judge her? This was so embarrassing.
Beatrice came out with a smile.
“Well, well, well, I’m so glad to finally see you two back in my office,” Beatrice said and winked at her.
Heat began to build up in her face.
“What can I get you?” Beatrice asked.
“I’ll have the special, please. You know how I like it,” Bull said.
She immediately put the menu down. “I’ll have the same as him.”
Beatrice wrote on her notepad, took their drink orders, and left.
“How was your date the other night?” Bull asked.
“Huh?”
“The no-show?”
“Oh, yeah, it wasn’t going to work out,” Maddie said. “I’m done with the whole internet dating.”
“Did the guy give a reason?”
She nodded. “Not one I want to share.” She wasn’t about to tell her boss that her date had decided her size was a problem and he didn’t think she was pretty enough. He said he wasn’t going to fuck her by the end of the night, so he figured there was no point in wasting either of their time.
Maddie hated that he assumed she wanted to get laid. There was more to life than sex. It probably didn’t help that the one and only time she had ever had sex was on her prom night with her date. The pity fuck.
Just the memory was enough to make her cringe.
Bull kept staring at her, and she felt this overwhelming need to check to make sure she hadn’t gotten anything stuck between her teeth.
“So, er, how is everything with you?” she asked.
“You haven’t been on many dates, have you?”
“Is this a date? I thought we were just … you know, er, having some food as colleagues.”
“We are, but I’ve got kind of a proposition for you.”
****
Two days later
“Do you want to tell me again why we’re doing this?” Grant asked.
Bull ignored his brother’s annoying question. He didn’t need to tell anyone anything.
Lifting Pat’s military-grade binoculars, he saw all the kennels. It sickened him.
The club had never invested in dogfighting. For all of his father’s piece-of-shit ways and desire to earn quick money, the bastard had loved animals. Had even owned many dogs. It was one of the things he was known for, taking in strays, of any breed, even if it was a mongrel.
Bull, himself, had always loved dogs and cats.
“Bull, people are pieces of shit. They are not worth your time. They will stab you in the back, but dogs, man, dogs are better than everyone. They are loyal, grateful, and will never turn on you.”
The memory of his father’s words haunted him. Taking a deep breath, he moved the binoculars across the compound, and seeing the pile of dead bodies was enough to make him sick.
After seeing Maddie crying because of a deceased animal, he had made it his mission to find the local dogfighting ring to put an end to it.
He had no idea one was in Carnage. It was far out on the outskirts of town. They were near an obscure farm that had been abandoned many years ago. No one came by to check on any activity, and there was a shit load of it. Kennels lined the walls, and there were so many dogs. Some of them were cowering in the kennels as men passed. They had come to fear them.
He lowered the binoculars and handed them back to Pat.
“When did I have to tell you my reasoning for doing anything?”
“You’ve never cared about any of the shit that’s going on in our backyard.”
“I care about this, or did you forget what Dad taught us?” he asked.
“Dad is dead, and the last time I checked, he wasn’t exactly high on the whole moral compass thing.”
He couldn’t argue that point.
Their dad was a piece of shit, but that didn’t stop him from having good points, and Bull refused to ignore the good the man had done for them both.
“What’s the plan?” Pat asked.
Rusty, Sweet, Rip, and Bud were all happy to come and check out the dogfighting ring. Most of them were dog lovers themselves.
The only one who was being a little pussy was his brother. It might have something to do with Bull disturbing him mid-fuck, but he didn’t care. His brother needed to learn to keep it in his pants, and seeing he was happy calling Maddie names and making her life miserable, Bull was more than happy to make his life just as bad.
“I go in,” Bull said. “I’m going to want to talk to the guy running the shop. Once I do, I will give you guys the signal.”
“Are we keeping them alive?” Rusty asked.
The brother sounded bloodthirsty, and Bull wasn’t going to deny him.
As far as Bull was concerned, the bastards who had set this up deserved to die. All he saw was Maddie’s tears. How upset she had been, and he’d been there. Losing a dog you loved was the hardest thing in the fucking world.
It was the only time his dad had allowed him to mourn, otherwise, his sons were never allowed to show pain or weakness. Tears were a weakness. Thinking about it now, Bull couldn’t help but think of ironic it was.
“I’ve told Dylan about what’s happening, and he isn’t happy. Anyone who dies, I don’t think will be mourned, but those who live, we’re going to make sure has an even worse time of it in prison.”
They had boys in lockup, and Bull paid a fortune to keep them protected.
“Let’s do this,” Rusty said.
Bull shook his brothers’ hands, but Grant ignored him. They were eventually going to have to talk about whatever was up his brother’s ass.
He walked toward the main gates. This operation was so sloppy, or they’d gotten complacent. Bull stepped right into the thick of it.
The dogs looked at him with interest.
Don’t worry, boys and girls, you will not have to fight another day.
“Hey!”
The shout came from the right.
He hated being shouted at. With hands in his pockets, he turned to the growl and saw a man coming toward him, looking less than impressed.
Well, he was pissed off just as much.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” the man asked. He had a bald spot on his head, but the rest of his hair was intact and long. Bull didn’t get it. “I’m here to see a man in charge.”
“Not interested,” he said.
“He will be when he knows I’ve got a pack of dogs. They’ve been trained to kill. Teeth are sharpened. Killed a few men that way as well.” He was talking shit. The dogs back at the clubhouse, the ones that lived with him, they were so fucking lazy unless they thought the club was being threatened.
Most of their days were spent either in the yard sunbathing, begging in the kitchen, or lazing it around in the shade. They had rather luxurious lives, and they were probably the closest thing he’d come to in the way of kids.
“How did you find us?” the man asked, pointing his gun all over the place. He didn’t look quite all there in the head.
“It wasn’t hard to find.” He’d asked Pat to get him all the necessary intel.
The man got closer and closer. He shook, and with each step he took, Bull saw the man was on drugs. Now this pissed him off even more.
He knew what drugs of any kind did to a person. How it turned them into a shadow of their former self and what they never would do before the drugs became null and void. He had seen fine, law-abiding women offer their bodies, beg to the point it was sickening for another shot.
Drugs disgusted Bull just as much as dogfighting.
His father had ended up trying his own product. The greed had set in not too long after that. Bull hated the memories of that time so fucking much.
When the man was close enough, Bull reacted. He grabbed him around the neck and slammed him up against his chest, holding him so close, and he wasn’t a match to him.
The gun was next, he pressed it to the man’s head.
“Now tell me, boy, what is your name?”
“You let me go, you hear? You let me go or it’s going to be your life next. We feed assholes like you to the dogs.”
The urge to pull the trigger was so strong.
With the commotion, two more men came out, and then the third. Now this did surprise him as a man in a suit walked out, and Bull just knew this man owned the place.
His men would already be reacting.
“Marshall, man, get him to stop.”
“For fuck’s sake, Billy,” Marshall said, shaking his head. “Make him stop. I know you can.”
“Well, Marshall, it looks like I found my man,” Bull said.
The two men drew their guns, and never one to like being threatened, Bull fired his weapon, taking out the kneecaps of both men. Marshall jumped back.
Billy started to cry, and Bull hit him hard across the head.
“You have no idea what you’re doing,” Marshall said.
“I think I do.” He pocketed the gun and brought out both of his that had been placed in the back of his jeans.
In the old cowboy movies, he had always thought it looked cool when the hero took the villains by surprise and drew out two guns as opposed to one. Of course, it helped that he’d been ambidextrous his whole life and it didn’t take any training for him to draw both weapons.
Marshall took a step back. “Look, I recognize your cut, your club, and I am warning you, you do not want to do this.”
“Do I look like I give a fuck?” Bull asked.
His men had already joined him. They were at his back.
Marshall was surrounded and outnumbered as he shook his head.
“Who are you?”
“I’m someone who will make your life miserable if you kill me.”
His boys began to chuckle, but Marshall merely smirked. “Your death will cause me trouble. Is that what you’re trying to tell me?”
Marshall shrugged.
“Why the dogs?” Bull asked.
“Why not?”
He didn’t like this guy.
“Oh, I get it, you’re an animal lover. Let me guess, they’re your best friends. These dogs are nothing more than pieces of meat. They make an income, and when they lose, they die.”
Bull had heard enough. He fired the gun, and like his buddies, Marshall was on the floor, whirling in pain. Stepping over the men, Bull reached into the man’s pocket and grabbed his wallet, tossing it over to Pat, who pocketed it.
“I never liked anyone who abused dogs. I wonder, if they are so well trained, will they let you boys live?” Bull asked.
The chances of the dogs attacking these men were slim. To get them to cooperate, they would have had to use violence and fear tactics to get them compliant. The more he thought about what they did, he wanted to kill them.
Instead, as he went past each cage with the hammer he found just lying on the ground, he began to smash the locks. He put a call through to Dylan.
His boys were there, helping the dogs.
There had to have been easily fifty dogs. The dogs didn’t attack the men. They instead went to his boys, the ones who were offering a chance, a new hope.
“You’re making a big mistake,” Marshall said.
“Maybe I am, but I don’t give a fuck. You want to do shit like this on my land, you come to me. I own Carnage. Do you understand?” Bull asked.
He wanted to slam the hammer into the guy’s forehead, but that wouldn’t help his cause. Dylan would have to do an investigation, and it would become sticky. After he’d cleaned up his father’s last mess, he vowed he wouldn’t succumb to the violence. He would learn to find another way, but he was so close to backing out on his promise to himself.
Dropping the hammer to the floor, he stepped back.
Hands clenched at his sides, he took several deep breaths, and then, with one of the limping dogs who had come to him, he walked away. The boys had brought the van close. He was driving with Pat because being alone with his brother would annoy the fuck out of him.
Grant wasn’t on board with what he was doing.
He lifted the wounded dog into the back of the truck and moved around to the front, climbing into the passenger side.
“Give me the guy’s wallet,” he said.
Pat handed it over, and he flipped through it.
“Marshall Smith. Do you recognize the name?” Bull asked.
“Never heard of him. But do you think it is an alias?” Pat asked.
“Not a clue.” He tossed the wallet onto the seat beside him.
“What’s going on, Prez?” Pat asked.
He wasn’t about to tell his man that he had a feeling he’d started something he never intended to do.
“You did this for Maddie, didn’t you?” Pat asked.
“Not just for Maddie,” he said. “I hate anyone who thinks it’s a good thing to hurt dogs.”
Chapter Five
Maddie stood in the room, a little shocked by what Bull had told her.
“We can’t take all of the dogs,” George said.
