Strong arms wrapped around me from behind pulling me back while yelling in my ear. At first, I was ready to turn on whoever the asshole was that decided to interrupt me until the voice rang true in my ear. “He’s done, brother. Pull your shit together! You’ve done your woman proud man. Backup so we can take care of the body fucker,” Throttle yells finally getting through to me. Even after stopping the resistance to my brother he keeps me in his grasp until he hears my breathing level out.
“Are you good, man? You with me, brother,” Throttle ask before letting me go? The fucked-up part is that without him holding me back I’m not sure I can stand on my own two feet. I stumble a bit feeling fucking drained and exhausted after my high of rage has worn off. Throttle notices and goes to grab for me, but I managed to swat his hand away before he can grab me again.
“I’m fine fucker! Back-off, I just need a fucking minute to get my bearings,” I answer a little harsh but really couldn’t give a fuck. I make my way through the crowd of men gathered in the barn. The men who just watched quietly while I beat the fuck out of the asshole who thought he could hurt my Bree and get the fuck away with it. I look for something to sit or lean on before I collapse and fall square on my face in front of everyone. It’s as if my father knew what I needed as he nodded at one of the old folding chairs we kept here at the barn. Viking, my father, and the rest of the old heads stood to each side of me saying nothing as we watched our Enforcer deal his punishment to two more of the assholes Zeke had brought down with him.
While watching Wall, I realized just how long I took working Zeke over, by my watch over an hour had passed; an hour of nothing but swinging and slicing a mother fucker up. No wonder my fucking ass was exhausted. Wall was just as vicious, but he had two to work his frustrations out on before burying a bullet in each one of their skulls. Axle decided to let the butt of his gun inflict the pain he wanted to be dealt. He might not have pulled a trigger, but he pistol-whipped that mother fucker until he caved in the side of the Grizzle fucks skull.
With the four assholes dead, the club arranged for the Kingstree guys to take the bodies to their higher-ups to collect the bounty. It worked out great for both sides. The club got to get their revenge and a little money to boot. KingsTree got a slice of the bounty for just standing by to watch and disposing of the bodies. Definitely a good day for all involved.
Once everything was settled with the KingsTree goons, the rest of us went back to the clubhouse to celebrate. I really wasn’t in the mood for company and planned on following my Presidents lead by retreating with a bottle of whiskey and finding some solitude. That never happened for me. As soon as I walked in the bar of the clubhouse, I was quickly called to the table my father occupied by himself in the corner that held a bottle of tequila and two glasses. Hopefully, I’d be able to let him say what he needed to say and make my way to my room for some time with my thoughts.
My father watched as I made my way to his table keeping quiet until I was seated and poured us both a drink before he spoke. “You get whatever you needed to be worked out with that asshole?” I don’t answer him I just throw back the first shot and pour another. I repeat this two more times before my father snatches the bottle from my hand before addressing me again. “I asked you a question boy, thinking you might remember your upbringing and answer me dammit!”
His tone causes something in me to snap. For a second I forget who is sitting in front of me and respond like I would anyone else, respect be damned. “I DON’T WANT TO FUCKING TALK ABOUT IT OLDMAN. LET ME THE FUCK BE!” I should have taken the time to think before speaking and maybe my father wouldn’t have jumped from the table to haul me up by my shirt in front of the whole damn room. The whole room grew quiet as hell when my father’s voice raised. He was pissed, and I’m the one who did it.
“Listen here fucker, you might be a grown ass man and a brother to me in this club but above all that I’m your father and you will speak to me as such,” Viking growled at me. His face was beet red, and the vein above his right eye was pulsing. Yeah, I fucked up and woke the Viking. Not good; Not good at all.
“Look Pop, I meant no disrespect, but right now I’m still fucking raging. I want to bring that fucker back to life just to send his ass back to hell again. So to answer the fucking question, NO! No, I didn’t get my shit worked out, ALRIGHT! I don’t think I’ll ever get my shit worked out over what that fucker did to this club or to Bree,” I answered trying not to scream.
The room is quiet as my dad and I have a stare down. He’s still got me by the collar, and both of us are fucking fuming. Ready for the other to make a move that will send us into the brawl of all brawls right here in the middle of the clubhouse bar. I don’t notice Ghost walk up behind my father before I see him pat my father on the back telling him to let go and step back. I can see the battle my father is waging with himself. He wants to teach me a lesson in respect in front of everyone, yet he knows that due to the events of the day I’m not myself and would never speak to him that way if I wasn’t so mind-fucked with the shit from earlier.
My father lets me go with a slight shove in the direction of the chair I was sitting in minutes before. “That’s your get-out-of-jail-free card for the rest of your life. You ever speak to me that way again, and I will kick your fucking ass, boy. You will respect me, or I will beat it into you, feel me fucker?”
Not wanting to show weakness but knowing I need to show the respect that is needed I answer the only way I know. “I feel ya, Pop.”
“Good, now sit your ass down,” my father tells me before moving to my ear to continue in a voice only loud enough for me to hear. “You and me have a few things to go over. Things that I think you should’ve known when your girl first came to town. Things that you better be able to keep to yourself until we can prove our suspicions. I wouldn’t be telling you now if I thought there was any other way of getting the information we need to know,” Dad says leaving me confused as shit.
I take my seat like I told, while dad sits across from me. Ghost is here too, sitting to the right of me and motions for Boomer and Doc to join us. How the hell I ended up having a sit down with the old heads is beyond me. It’s never a good thing when it takes all four of these secretive mother fuckers to get the point across. Hopes of getting to my room and drinking myself stupid just flew out the fucking window.
“Son, there’s something that these assholes have been wanting to bring up for a few years now,” my dad says through gritted teeth. “Before anything is said, you need to understand that we don’t know for sure and weren’t really worried about it until she was attacked. If you would grow a set of balls and step up to the plate, we probably would never have this conversation.”
“Tank, what your dad is trying to say is if you’re not going to take Breeanna as your old lady we need to move forward with our suspicions to ensure all members of the club are protected,” Ghost adds.
“And this stays between the five of us. No one is to know until we know for sure, then it will be brought to the table and dealt with,” Boomer adds.
Doc is the only quiet one at the table. He’s just staring at me waiting for me to flip. It’s like he’s bracing himself for my reaction to their news and it puts me on high alert which in return throws my manners right out the fucking window.
“Why don’t you assholes just spit it out? What you all have something else you’ve been hiding for years? What the fuck does it have to do with me making Bree my old lady or not?”
“You need to chill the fuck out boy and listen. You listen to everything that is said before you start asking questions,” my dad says before looking at Doc.
“A few years ago, you brought a scared innocent girl into our clubhouse for the first time. It was the first time any of us had laid eyes on her in the flesh, thanks to you being a little tattle tale bitch when it came to her, we saw her before Queenie did. We were able to get a grip on the situation before things got blown out of proportion. There’s no doubt in my mind that Quee
nie would have had one of her meltdowns if that was the case,” Doc told me zoning everyone else at the table out. “You see, your girl bears a striking resemblance to one of the club girls that used to hang around back in the eighties. One that turned out to be a real piece of fucking work. A bitch that tried to flip this club upside down trying to get a patch on her back.”
“So what, you think Bree stumbled in here to pick up where the bitch left off? You think Breezy is after a patch or some shit? A few years ago I might have agreed with you, but now I have to tell you there’s no fucking way. WHAT-THE-EVER-LIVING-FUCK,” I shot back before Boomer decided to jump in by slamming his massive hand on the table sending my shot glass and the bottle of tequila crashing to the ground.
“Shut the fuck up and listen for a fucking minute dipshit. If you’d let Doc get on with his fucking story, you wouldn’t be jumping to petty fucking conclusions,” the former president growled.
Lucky enough for us the rest of the brothers were across the room partying like rock stars at the bar with the Breaking Benjamin belting through the speakers. No one seemed phased by Boomer’s outburst so after a quick scan of the room Doc motion to the prospect behind the bar. Once a bottle of bourbon and five shot glasses we delivered, Doc turned his attention back to me and proceeded with his tale.
“Easy asshole. I never implied any wrongdoing on Bree’s part. Hell, her showing up here was probably all that shit normal people call fate, maybe even karma. For whatever reason, that girl stumbled into town and left the four of us Oldheads wondering where exactly she came from. We’ve called in a few marker’s and run down a few leads, but we still had one unanswered question. One that I’ll need your help with,” Doc says leaving me hanging. The table falls silent as I have four sets of eyes staring me down waiting for my reply.
“Whether or not I like the question that’s left to be answered as the club’s Sargent at Arms I’m bound by the club to help. So why don’t you tell me what the fuck is going on and stop talking in goddamn circles?”
“Fair enough. Back in the eighties, there was a club whore that went by the name of Charlie while floating around here. At first, she acted like she knew the score but as time went on she grew bitter and finally figured out that once you go whore around these parts, you’ll never make it to old lady status. You see she had it bad for Rowdy, quickly falling into being his mistress. She got to the point where she only wanted to service him, and Rowdy kept going to her. She was infatuated with the fucker wanting to be his one and only, but Rowdy already had two kids and a wife. One night she went a little too far,” Doc stated before throwing back a shot.
“The club was on lockdown, the infamous lockdown of 85'. Charlie was working behind the bar watching Rowdy interact with Queenie and the kids getting pissed off by the minute. That’s when her crazy ass decided to try and make him jealous. Boomer was way past being drunk, due to his cranky ass bitch of a first wife, and easily fell into her plan of getting back at Rowdy. She disappeared with Boomer to his office with the intent of sleeping with him and letting it get back to Rowdy, but it didn’t play out that way she had hoped. You see, Boomer’s ex-wife walked in on them. She found Charlie on her knees with a mouth full of Boomer’s cock. Charlie was dismissed to return to the bar while Boomer and his ex had a screaming match of epic proportions in his office. Their voices carried out to the great room giving everyone an earful of their fucked up marriage,” Doc grates before Boomer throws his two cents in.
“Fucked up doesn’t even cover it, brother. Axle and Madison were the only good to ever come out of that cluster fuck.”
“We know, remember fucker we lived most of it with you,” Doc threw in before finishing up his story. “When Queenie heard what was going on with Charlie and her friend's husband she took it upon herself to defend her friend. She walked right up to Charlie and decked her then proceeded to call the bitch every name in the fucking book. That’s when Charlie lashed out and spilled the beans about her affair with Rowdy adding some things that weren’t exactly true. It was like watching a damn soap opera unfold right here in the fucking clubhouse.”
“She spouted off lies about how Rowdy promised to leave Queenie and the kids for her as soon as the lockdown was over and more that I can’t even remember everything that was said. Anyhow, Rowdy got pissed and threw her ass out of the club. Little did he know that she was leaving with something that belonged to someone here at the club,” Doc adds before pouring everyone a shot of bourbon.
“What do you mean she left with something that belonged to someone here? You telling me that bitch stole from us and was allowed to leave without consequences? You guys go soft or something? And for what? A pussy made of gold,” I asked trying to make fucking sense of Doc’s gibberish?
“Rowdy was convinced it was for the best. The bitch was toxic, man,” Ghost managed to get out before I snapped.
“CAN SOMEONE PLEASE EXPLAIN THIS SHIT TO ME! WHAT DID SHE STEAL AND WHY WOULD ROWDY LET HER OFF,” I screamed. I was losing my ever-living-mind with the Oldheads talking in circles. Today has been a fucked up day, and all I want to do is drink my ass in a drunken stupor in the privacy of my room. They need to get to the fucking point.
“Simmer down dickhead, I’m getting to it,” I heard Doc say drawing my attention back to him. “When Rowdy kicked Charlie out on her ass we thought we were rid of her for good. You know for a fact club girls come and go all the time. You can imagine our surprise when she showed up six months later looking like she was ready to pop.” Doc gave me a few seconds for his last words to sink in before continuing. “You see, when she left out of here and headed straight for her family back in Atlanta, only she didn’t know she was knocked up. Not sure of all the details, I just know she married a family friend shortly after returning home and tried to pass off the kid as his. Somehow the dude figured out the timeline didn’t quite line up with the pregnancy which led to a massive clusterfuck between their family’s. That’s when she showed up here and dropped the bomb. At first, she swore it was Rowdy’s and demanded he leave Queenie and the kids. When Rowdy told her to pack sand, she went after Boomer. Truth is, we’re not sure who the fuck the father of her kid was. She had been with Rowdy regularly, hooked up with two different brothers from sister charters and also had a piece of Boomer a couple of times towards the end. Hell, for all we know she was hitting everyone who came through the fucking clubhouse doors. The club decision was to have a DNA test conducted once the child was born and go from there but the bitch just disappeared. We had a shitty private investigator track her down not long after she took off again. He brought back a picture he clipped from an Atlanta newspaper showing a young happy couple holding a newborn. It was a birth announcement, you know that shit the uptight rich motherfucker's post in the society pages of the fucking paper. Rowdy was convinced we didn’t have anything to worry about. He believed she lied about everything in one last chance to get his patch on his back and the kid really was the douche’s in the newspaper clipping with her. Honestly, never thought about it again until Breeanna was drug into the clubhouse that first night.” The table fell quiet letting the last sentence hang in the air.
Before I could ask the questions rolling around in my head, my father proceeded to deliver news that sent me in even more of a fucking tailspin trying to piece together what Bree had to do with the club. “She’s got his fucking dimples! She might look like a thicker version of that cunt of a mother of her’s, but she’s got his fucking dimples. Hell, she even as that sarcastic fucking grin of his too.”
I made sure to throw my shot back before I responded to the assholes sitting with me. They were seriously giving me a damn headache. “What do dimples, a cunt mother, club protection and Bree have to do with one another? Could one of you assholes just tell me whatever the fuck it is I need to know and what it is I’m supposed to find out? I’m not drunk, yet so I know it’s the riddles you all insist on talking in that’s giving me a splitting headache. So have some godforsaken mercy on me a
nd just spell it out so I can get…” I wasn’t able to finish my thought before Doc gave me what I was asking for.
“We think Bree was Charlie’s kid and she most definitely belongs to one of us founding members. We need you to get us some DNA to have it checked. My guy at the hospital can have the test done in no time. The testing is done in less than forty-eight hours were back in the day it could take months because there were only select labs that did the paternity test throughout the country. This way we know for sure before bringing in even more fucking chaos into the club.”
I took my time looking at every one of the old fucks sitting at my table with me trying to put two and two together. The Oldheads stayed quiet while I was running the thought process through my head. Neither one of these assholes have dimples, and from what I remember, neither did Rowdy. I went to reach for the bottle to pour another shot when a hand reached over me to take it from me pissing me off. Without thinking, I spun around grabbing a handful of his shirt with my fist drew back ready to pummel the fucker that was stupid enough to interrupt the mind fuck I had going on. Everything clicked into place, halting me dead in my tracks as I looked at the face sporting a shit eating grin right in front of me.
Finding Me: Dominant Devils Book Three Page 8