by K. A. Ware
His face smoothed out and he jumped off the picnic table we were sitting on to toss his plate into a trashcan. “That’s impressive. The only thing I ever really spend money on are cars and my bike, don’t have use for much else.”
“You live at the club?” I guessed.
“Moved in when I got my bottom rocker at nineteen. Never had a reason to need my own place before,” he said, climbing back up next to me.
“You’ve got cars? I’ve never seen you on anything but your bike.” I never considered Baz driving anything other than his Harley.
“That’s because it’s spring. I’ve got a truck and a cherry ’69 ‘Cuda I restored, but I mostly drive them in the winter,” he said, pulling out his pack of cigarettes. My fingers itched to steal one, but I held back. I didn’t need to relapse on that particular bad habit again.
“Do you do that a lot? Restore cars?” I asked.
Baz looked at me like I’d grown a second head. “What do you think I do for a living? Knight’s Customs?”
I cringed, I hadn’t thought about Baz having a legitimate income source. “Well, you said your sister was a better mechanic.”
“I said she was better, not that I was incompetent. Besides, there’s a lot more to do on a custom build than mechanics.”
I pulled a face, trying to think of those car shows that were on late at night. “Like paint?”
Baz snorted, looking up at the sky. “She was almost perfect.”
“Hey!” I yelled, elbowing him in the ribs.
He winced and scooted away from me. “Ow! Fuck, you have pointy elbows.”
“Don’t be an ass,” I said, pointing a finger at him.
“Fine. No, I mostly handle bodywork. I leave the painting to Z.”
“Zero, right? The one with the crazy eyes?” He wasn’t one I was likely to forget.
Baz laughed. “Yeah, he’s kinda intense, but he’s good people. He’s Frogger’s cousin. They’re like complete opposites of each other, it’s bizarre.”
“Is this asshole botherin’ you, darlin’?” Rigs asked, coming up to clap Baz on the shoulder.
“Now that you mention it, he was getting kind of boring,” I teased, earning an exaggerated wounded look from Baz.
“You ready to do that thing?” Rigs asked Baz, who grinned in response.
“Hell yeah, let’s do it.”
“Do what?” I asked, looking around to see all the brothers gathering by the back door.
“Don’t worry, just gotta take care of something real quick. I’ll be right back,” Baz said, leaning over to plant a quick kiss on my lips before hopping off the picnic table.
“Alright, have fun, I guess,” I said with a wave as they disappeared into the crowd.
“Butter!” Chains roared over the dull hum of the crowd. Everyone quieted, all eyes searching for Butter.
“Yeah, boss?” he called, stepping away from the keg tap he was fiddling with.
“Chapel. Now.” Chains bit out, and he looked pissed.
Butter looked around, we were all wondering the same thing, what the hell had he done to piss the president off? In a smart move, Butter kept his mouth shut and followed Chains and the rest of the brothers inside.
“Jesus, he must’ve fucked up bad,” I muttered, hoping I wasn’t going to have to clean blood off Baz’s clothes again.
“Nah, he’ll walk back out here feelin’ like the king of the world in a few minutes,” Harley said, coming up beside me. She stepped up and climbed onto the top of the picnic table beside me.
I raised an eyebrow, not so sure she had assessed the situation correctly. “Really? Your dad seemed like he was ready to rip his head off.”
Harley waved a hand and rolled her eyes. “Pfft. They’ve been riding him all week. It’s all part of the act. They’re giving him his bottom rocker, gotta strike the fear of God into ‘em first. It’s tradition.”
“Oh shit, I forgot about that,” I remember my dad would always flip the prospect more shit when he was getting ready to patch him in. It was like their final test.
“Forgot? How would you know?”
Shit.
“Oh, Baz mentioned something. So, what happened with you and Jester the other night?” I asked, quickly changing the subject.
I had to be more careful. I was getting too comfortable, and shit was slipping left and right. Pretty soon people would start fitting the pieces together. I wondered briefly if that would be such a bad thing. Would letting these people in really make things more dangerous for me? I wasn’t so sure anymore.
“Argh! You don’t want me to unpack that clusterfuck on you. We’d be here all fucking night.”
“My sister’s an ex-junkie, and my mom’s a crack whore, try me,” I challenged.
She laughed, but it was hollow, and the brightness that she’d had in her eyes was suddenly gone. “We’ve got a history, but it’s complicated. I dated this guy, Nate, in high school, he joined the military after he graduated and got deployed overseas. That’s how we all met Jester, he was in Nate’s unit and would come back with him whenever they were on leave. Things between us were lukewarm at best by the time he left on his first deployment. The teenage first love thing had worn off, at least for me it had. And I know this is going to sound horrible, but it was kind of an out of sight out of mind thing. He was gone, a million miles away fighting bad guys and I was just here, living the same life.”
“It doesn’t sound horrible. You were young.”
“Yeah, way too young for the shit that happened. Anyways, while Nate was on his second tour, I wrote him a letter, basically telling him I was done. He was killed in action before he could read it and Jester was the one that escorted his body and belongings home. Jester doesn’t have any family, and he and Nate were like brothers, he was torn apart when Nate died,” Harley was staring off into the distance, her mind a million miles away.
“I’m so sorry for your loss, that must’ve been hard.” It was a lame attempt at comfort, but what was there to say at that?
“It was hell. Jester and I hadn’t gotten along before Nate’s death and then afterward…it wasn’t good. There’s a lot of history there, a lot of old wounds that haven’t ever healed.”
“So that’s what the other night was all about?” I asked.
She took a long pull from her beer before answering. “It was about a lot of things, but it always ends the same. No matter how many years pass, I’m still going to be his dead best friend’s girlfriend.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Do you want to be something else?”
She sighed, looking down at her feet. “Doesn’t matter what I want, he made that decision for the both of us.”
There was more to the story than she was letting on, I was sure of it, but I didn’t want to pry. We all had secrets.
The brothers poured out of the clubhouse onto the deck, loud and rowdy as ever.
Chains pushed to the front of their group and spread his arms wide. “Ladies and assholes, may I introduce Butter, the newest full-patch member of the Knights of Mayhem!” he screamed, moving out of the way to reveal Butter in a full cut, smiling like he’d won the lottery.
The crowd cheered, wolf whistles and shouts of congratulations sounded from every direction. Someone yelled ‘Shots!’ and soon a bottle of something was getting passed around.
The brothers huddled around, shots raised in the air as they chanted their club mantra, Butter right in the middle of their circle. “We are the Knights of Mayhem, dirty mother fuckers, we fight and fuck, ride free, live hard, and tear shit up. Knights of Mayhem MC!”
Someone yelled ‘Again!’ and they went through the entire process again, the crowd joining in at the end. People milled around, talking and laughing. A group of kids chased each other around the yard.
A sense of nostalgia hit me in the chest. It was exactly how I remembered Sinner’s cookouts were growing up. A community. It had just been Stella and me for years. I forgot what it felt like to be surrounded by people w
ho cared about you. Most of these people I’d met for the first time an hour ago, but they’d all been kind and welcoming. Not once did someone look down on me or even cop an attitude, everyone was genuine, a trait rarely found nowadays.
“I guess you were right,” I said, nudging Harley with my shoulder.
She smirked, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “It’s a gift, don’t ever bet against me.”
“Noted,” I laughed.
“What are you two gossiping about?” Baz asked, making his way over to our little viewpoint.
“Just talking about how amazing I am,” Harley said, lifting her nose in the air.
“Amazing at what? You’re the clumsiest person I’ve ever met, you have the attention span of a gnat, and you can barely drive,” he shot back.
“I’m fantastic in bed,” she said, wagging her eyebrows.
Baz’s smile dropped, and he looked like he was about to puke. “Do not say shit like that to me, ever.”
“Say what?” Jester asked, coming up behind Baz.
Harley’s eyes flashed, and she leaned back on her hands. “I was just telling Baz how incredible I am in bed. I give the most amazing blow jobs,” she said, a serene smile on her face. I had to give the girl props. She wasn’t giving an inch. And watching Baz squirm was damn near comical.
Baz gagged, and Jester’s face turned to stone. “Is that really fuckin’ necessary?” he barked.
Harley sat up straight, ready for a fight. “As a matter of fact, it was. I was making a point. I’m an adult, and I can make decisions for myself.”
“Your driver’s license may say you’re an adult, but you still throw tantrums like a fuckin’ child,” he gritted out through clenched teeth. Before Harley had a chance to respond, Jester turned heel and stomped off.
“Oh, if he wants a tantrum, he’s gonna fuckin’ get a tantrum,” she hissed, jumping down and stalking in the direction Jester had gone.
“I have a feeling that’s a regular occurrence?” I asked, peeking at Baz from the corner of my eye.
He shook his head, eyes tracking Harley as she chased after Jester. “It’s been worse lately. I don’t know what the fuck is up with those two, but I hope they figure it out soon.”
When the sun fell, and the kids had all gone, the guys built a giant bonfire in the middle of the forecourt. We dragged chairs out to the blacktop, and the remaining handful of us sat around the fire talking and drinking.
Baz was in deep conversation with Rigs when I drained my beer. Getting up, I wandered to the cooler at the far edge of the circle.
“Looks like we’re out of beer,” I said, looking down at the empty cooler. The two kegs they’d set up had long since been drained.
“There’s more in the bar fridge, I’ll get it,” Butter said, motioning for the girl on his lap to get up.
I lifted a hand to ward him off. “No, don’t. It’s your night. I’ll go grab them.”
“You sure?”
I rolled my eyes. “I think I can handle it.”
The kitchen off the bar was easy enough to find. Pushing open the swinging door, I came to an abrupt stop when I saw a huge man sitting on the counter, beer bottle dangling in his hand.
“Shit, you scared me. I was just grabbing more beer for the cooler.” I said, immediately wondering why I felt the need to explain myself.
“Didn’t mean to scare ya, sugar. Just grabbin’ beer myself,” he slurred.
I ignored the obviously drunk man and headed for the industrial-sized walk-in cooler. A gust of cold air hit me in the face, making me shiver when I pulled open the door. I spotted four cases of beer stacked along the back wall and stepped in to grab them. With a case in each hand, I turned to see the drunk counter guy standing in the doorway of the cooler.
“Can I help you?” I asked.
“Yeah, you can suck my dick,” he slurred, stepping fully into the cooler and letting the door shut behind him.
A chill ran down my spine that had nothing to do with the temperature. Nothing I’d seen since spending time with Baz indicated I should have anything to worry about, but I couldn’t help the nagging feeling in my stomach that the situation wasn’t going to end well.
I swallowed the lump in my throat and stood a little straighter, mustering up every bit of confidence I had. “I’m not gonna do that, buddy. I’m with Baz,” I added, hoping that would be enough to get him to back off.
“He ain’t claimed you yet. There’s still time to come to your senses. Come on. I can make you feel good, baby.”
Reasoning wasn’t going to work with this asshole. Better bring on the bitch. “I’m not a fucking club whore. I’m not going to get on my knees because you told me to. I’m with Baz, I’m not free pussy, so I suggest you back the fuck off before I start screaming.”
His lips parted like he was going to say something, but the door to the cooler opened suddenly.
“Oh, Ox, are you helping Finley with the beer? That’s so sweet,” Candy said with a smile, but her tone said she knew exactly what was going on.
“Fuck this,” Ox said, shouldering around Candy and stomping off.
“You okay?” Candy asked, stepping inside.
I rolled my eyes. “I’m fine. He was just drunk.”
She clucked her tongue and took the two cases of beer from me. “No excuse. You’re with Baz. He should respect that. I’ll talk to Rigs.”
“No, please don’t. Really, it’s nothing. I gave him an earful right before you opened the door. He’s not going to bother me again.”
“Good, no doubt he deserved it. But if he bothers you again, tell Baz or one of the boys, that shit won’t stand.”
“I will,” I said, turning to grab the other two cases of beer.
“Let’s get these out to the boys before they start rioting,” she said with a wink.
A loud cheer sounded from the small crowd around the fire when we emerged from the clubhouse, beer in tow. We started loading up the coolers, and Candy stopped me.
“Here,” she said, pulling a couple of beers out of the case and handing them to me. “You go have fun, mingle. I’ll do this.”
“Are you sure? I’m happy to help,” I said, hesitantly taking the bottles.
“I’m sure, go. The people that are still here are the inner circle. You need to get to know them.”
It may seem odd to most, but I understood what she meant. Anyone who had a chance of being with Baz needed to be able to live the life, be a part of the community.
Taking my seat between Baz and Blondie, I offered Baz one of the beers. He accepted it with a kiss, before turning back to his earlier conversation.
“I can’t believe you stole his car,” Baz said, shaking his head.
Blondie giggled and waved a hand in the air. “Please, he deserved it. Never called me a bitch again though, I’ll tell you that.”
Handing a beer to Blondie, Candy plopped down in the other woman’s lap. “What are we talking about?”
“That time I stole Chains’ Mustang because he called me a bitch,” Blondie chirped.
Candy howled with laughter, hooking an arm around her friend. Stretching up she looked past the fire to where Rigs and Chains were talking. “Hey, Chains! Marrying Blondie was the best decision you ever made!” she shouted, earning a few hoots from the dwindling crowd.
“I seem to remember I didn’t have much of a choice on the issue, you did hold a gun to my junk until I agreed,” Chains yelled back.
Baz leaned over me to look at his mother. “Seriously?”
Candy shrugged. “It was the 80s. Things were different back then. Had to look out for my girl!” Candy shouted. She and Blondie squealed in unison and then broke down in a fit of giggles.
“I think that’s my cue, I don’t want to catch my mom’s topless table dance ever again,” Baz whispered in my ear.
Turning to look at him with wide eyes, I struggled to hold in my own giggles. “Your mom’s what?”
Baz groaned and scrubbed at his ey
es. “She got hammered at a party, and one thing led to another. Can’t ever unsee that shit.”
I snorted, losing control of my giggles. “We should go inside then, can’t have you getting traumatized.”
“Good thinking,” Baz said, taking my hand and pulling me from my seat. He shouted goodnights as he practically dragged me across the blacktop and to the clubhouse.
Twenty
BAZ
“Those shorts have been killin’ me all fuckin’ night,” I growled, hooking an arm around Rabbit’s neck. She’d shown up to the cookout looking like a wet dream. In cutoff shorts and a backless shirt, she had me adjusting my damn jeans all night.
“All part of my plan,” she shot back, leaning into my side as we walked into the clubhouse.
Rooster lifted his chin when he saw us but quickly turned his attention back to the bikini-clad girl bending over the pool table to line her shot up in front of him. I just shook my head; the guy was the biggest slut I’d ever met. His bed was a constant revolving door of girls. Standards were a foreign thing to Rooster, as long as a chick had tits and was breathing, he’d try to fuck her.
We left Rooster to his conquest and headed down the hallway beside the bar. Passing the chapel, we made the turn leading to the bedrooms just in time to see Harley slip out of one of the rooms. She closed the door quietly and turned to leave, but froze when she saw us.
My pace slowed as I mentally counted the doors and realized she was sneaking out of Jester’s room. Harley’s hair was a mess. Mascara smeared around her eyes. She was carrying her shoes and generally looking like she’d gotten dressed in the dark.
“What the—” I started to demand answers, but Rabbit stepped forward, cutting me off.