“Got it,” Reese said.
“I was going to shoot the fucking thing,” Ellis said.
“Yeah, right, then Benny would be on your ass.”
“He really cares about this place, huh?” Ellis asked. “It shows.”
Reese opened the door and covered his mouth and nose. “Ah, shit.”
“Whoa, bro, that’s bad. That smells like… shit…”
The pungent odor punched Reese in the face quite a few times as he stood there, hoping the air would get in there and make it smell a little better.
He waved his hand and looked at the stacks of wooden furniture and filing cabinets that went from floor to ceiling, along with cardboard boxes thrown around. Add to that several different colored totes and a motorcycle, and here was the childhood that Reese never had, and the pieces he forever tried to forget.
“Fuck, Benny is an asshole for this,” Ellis said.
“Too bad he’s good to us,” Reese said, stepping forward into the storage unit.
“I’m not going in there,” Ellis said. “You’re on your own.”
“Thanks, brother.”
“No sweat.” Ellis turned and leaned against the open door and took out a smoke. “Hey, you know Benny blows his cash on women, right?”
“What the hell do I care about that?” Reese asked.
“I don’t know. I don’t get it. Paying for pussy. That doesn’t sit well. That’s like paying for… water…”
Reese looked over his shoulder. “We do pay for water, Ellis. You pay the fucking bills at the clubhouse. People buy bottles of water.”
“Maybe we should bottle up pussy and sell that.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
Ellis grinned. “Nothing. I’m just saying that Benny hasn’t been the same since his wife died.”
“No shit,” Reese said. He ripped off the top of a green tote and it was just a mess of papers. He snapped the lid back on and went to the next one. “He met Anne in high school and they never looked back. Maybe their dream was to buy this place and retire happily. You know?”
“This shithole? That’s the dream?”
“It’s only a shithole because Anne died,” Reese said. He opened another tote and found the same mess of papers.
“I know that,” Ellis said. “Fuck, man, that’s why I don’t get involved. Imagine putting in all those years. Passing up all that pussy, only to have your old lady get tagged by a drunk driver while crossing the fucking street. Fuck.”
Reese put his hands on the tote and looked back at Ellis. “No offense to Benny, but I don’t think he was passing up any women, you know? Not exactly a looker.”
“He had money. Money makes every guy look good. Like booze makes any woman look good. Money and booze, brother, the devil’s playground.”
“Yeah, whatever,” Reese said. “Just be happy that Benny finds a way to cope so he can help us when we need a private storage unit.”
That made Ellis chuckle.
There were more than a few times when the club needed to rent out a storage unit for a few hours to take care of some private business.
“What are we doing here, man?” Ellis asked.
“Told you, I wanted to find something.”