by Bijou Hunter
They'll be expecting that, though. Can’t imagine we face off against them without at least one of our people getting fucked too.
Cooper, Farah, and Colton are in Conroe. The men might want to help with the situation. Knowing Mom, she’ll keep them on the outside. Conroe business is our business, she likes to say.
My mind races for the first hour of the drive. We make excellent time with the cop escorting us, lights flashing, siren blaring.
Adrenaline keeps me calm. I’m going to fuck up people. Conroe will run red with blood. All great shit in my head.
Then we lose our escort and slow down, and I suddenly see Butch with a bullet in his gut. My brother can’t handle crowded, loud places with everyone focused on him. If he’s conscious, he’s in hell.
I believe he’ll die. In my heart, he’s already gone. Confidence sagging, I think about how I made this happen. All my doubts return. I was supposed to protect Butch and Buzz. Now, one’s getting his insides fixed while the other is locked down at home.
Soso brings me out of the madness in my head. First, she talks about small things like how the birds will need a special vet. “We’ll drive them to Hickory Creek a few times a year to be checked out.”
I only nod. There’s nothing to say. Her voice acts as a salve, though.
And she keeps talking. Little things at first, like wondering if Conroe has a good Thai restaurant.
Soso mentions we should change our clubhouse’s name. “Seriously, who the fuck is Morty?” she asks, shaking her head. “You need to have a name that’ll remind everyone who runs it.”
“Mom thought we should try to blend in.”
“Back in Ellsberg, did your family blend in?”
“Never.”
“Then there’s your answer. People in Conroe need to remember who runs things behind the scenes. That’s how it works in Hickory Creek. The Brotherhood ride around town, loud and proud, constantly making a racket. Never let people forget your family and club mean power.”
Soso’s right about changing the bar’s name. I don’t even know if there was ever a Morty in Conroe. Why is his name on the Reapers’ bar? Yeah, that’ll be an easy change.
Thirty minutes away from Conroe, Soso pulls me out of my head again. This time, by talking about where we’ll live.
“I don’t need a weird home to be happy,” she says, gaze on the road, solely focused on getting us to the hospital. “I know after seeing the A-frame house that you might think I need a wacky place, but I just want somewhere with a little privacy. That’ll be important because the birds can get loud. Well, you know that,” she says, smiling at me and reaching for my hand. “Also, a house with high ceilings would be best. The birds need space to fly, and you can’t be banging your head all the time. I don’t really care about anything else. One story, two stories, old, new. None of that matters. I don’t even care if we have a decent kitchen since I don’t want to cook.”
Smiling, I suggest, “We can learn to cook together.”
“Yeah, after your brother is home from the hospital, and we’ve found our own place, you and I can practice cooking,” she says and then adds quietly, “Preferably while naked.”
Soso is fucking everything. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better. Even her food choices—oatmeal is nasty—make me love her more. This incredible woman sees greatness in me even when I don’t.
Her devotion deserves a reward, and I promise I’ll remain at my best. No more doubts. I’ve got this shit in the bag. And when it’s done, I’ll have the sexiest woman in the world at my side.
Then as if she hasn’t been perfect enough, Soso grabs my hand before we enter the hospital. “Whatever you need to do, just do it. Don’t worry if you have to leave me behind to get it done. I can entertain myself. I’m not nervous about meeting people or being on my own. This is a triage situation. I’m at the bottom of the list of concerns right now, and I’m okay with that.”
“Remind me to thank Keanu for getting me plastered that night,” I say, kissing her forehead before we hurry to the waiting room where I find my parents along with Sissy and her five-year-old son, Hart.
“My boy came home!” Mom cries dramatically and throws her arms around me.
I admit her hug feels good. My pop offers a tight one too. Hickory Creek and Soso’s life consumed me so completely that I feel oddly disconnected from my family. They’re not strangers, but I feel out of place.
Mom’s relieved smile disappears as soon as she notices Soso behind me. “You brought a hoochie on a date to your brother’s deathbed?”
Her words instantly crush me under a million regrets about my relationship with Butch. “He’s dying?”
Pop’s expression immediately calms me, and I realize Mom’s fucking with me. “No, he’ll be fine,” my father says.
“For fuck’s sake, Mom,” I mutter. “You scared the shit out of me.”
“Good. I’m angry with you,” she says without a hint of regret. “That’s your punishment. Now, hug me again.”
Mom embraces me while shooting daggers at Soso who only smiles.
“I don’t like her,” Mom whines. “She’s too happy.”
Feeling on the spot, I ask Soso, “Didn’t I tell you?”
“You forgot to mention her great hair,” she says, hitting my mom with a compliment before adding, “Or how much you look like your father.”
Mom does love praise. She strokes her blonde hair and then sighs. “Fine, I’m Bailey. I assume you’re the Tennessee hoochie he’s been banging.”
“Soso Rutgers, and yes, we’ve been banging quite often, ma’am.”
I do love how she chooses to call my mom “ma’am” in the same smart-ass way that I always refer to her father as “sir.” However, I get defensive about my mother talking shit about the woman who owns my heart.
That’s why I blurt out, “We’re in love and getting married.” Sliding my arm around her shoulders, I ignore the part where I never actually proposed to Soso. I mean, we’re planning a life together. Of course, we’re getting married.
Soso’s dark eyes cling to the happy determination she’s been rolling with since we arrived. No longer feeling as defensive, I sigh. “But right now, let’s focus on Butch and business.”
After telling Mom how I’ve got shit handled, I’m forced to leave Soso with my family in the waiting room. She promises she’ll be fine, and I swear the same thing.
Downstairs, Jack and Roid Ron wait for me in the parking lot.
“About fucking time,” my cousin says, looking and sounding like a younger version of his blond dad.
“Where’s everyone?”
“Right here at the hospital. Jace is inside, talking to Cooper.”
“Vlad says he wants to meet to discuss what happened,” I mutter, thinking of my uncles plotting upstairs. “We need a spot where we don’t need to worry about locals.”
Roid Ron—a transplant from Ellsberg and someone I’ve always assumed shares our every conversation with Cooper—looks around the quiet lot. “The park with all the broken equipment is empty. Only teenagers hang out there on the weekends to drink, smoke weed, and fuck. It’ll be abandoned on a weekday, and there aren’t any neighbors nearby. If we need to get messy, no one will see or hear shit.”
“We’ll set up a meet there with Vlad. I’ll have him bring the remaining Dogs. As insurance, Jace can find a spot with his rifle.”
“What about Cooper and Colton inside?” Jack asks.
“They’re here for Lily. The shit with Vlad is Conroe club business.”
My cousin’s frown turns ugly. “Well, Cooper’s the one who made a deal with Vlad and the Dogs.”
“If he comes with us, he’ll take over and then our balls might as well go back with him to Ellsberg,” I snap at Jack. “Or we can handle this ourselves tonight.”
“And if he hits us with an ambush?”
“Then we die, and he dies, and someone else runs Conroe. Or would you rather Cooper take the bullet while we hid
e behind him?”
These guys are in the same boat as me. Roid Ron burned all his bridges back in Ellsberg—he fucks anything that moves, and his roid-induced fits pissed off everyone. Jack lives in the shadow of his father—Ellsberg’s VP. We’re the misfits. Only my uncle Jace didn’t end up in Conroe with something to prove. His wife—Sawyer Johansson—wanted to work with my mom and get away from Ellsberg. Jace is here because he’s pussy-whipped, but he’s still the toughest guy in our chapter.
“Set up the meet, and I’ll grab every weapon I can,” Jack says.
I message Jace, telling him to grab his rifle and where to meet us. Vlad agrees to round up his guys for a face-to-face at the park.
Logically, I know the man doesn’t want to die. Killing me would be an instant death sentence since every other chapter would descend on this town and destroy the Dogs. There’s no scenario where he kills me and wins.
But he sent Vigo after Butch. I feel it in my gut, even if I’m having trouble with the logic behind his move.
“Butch moved into Sissy’s house,” Jack says after we arrive at the park minutes before dusk. “Her pastel fucking house.”
“Then you know he loves her.”
My cousin nods. Age-wise, he’s between Butch and me. Maturity-wise, he’s a fucking kid. A violent, temperamental giant, but a child nonetheless. Being spoiled has its disadvantages.
I should know.
Jace messages me to say he’s in position. Ron stands near the old swing set, now just dangling chains. I’m not nervous. I should be, but I got word that Butch is out of surgery and looks good. I imagine Sissy’s relieved. Her kids too. I can’t picture how Butch is with any of them. I’ve never seen him capable of relaxing around noise and needy people. For Sissy, he must have found a way.
I expect the Dogs to arrive on their bikes, but they rumble up in an ancient SUV. My assumption is they plan to use its size to block Jace from the woods. Did they scope this place out already? I don’t reach for my gun when the SUV roars past us and to the left. The rear faces Jack, Ron, and me.
Vlad steps out of the front passenger door. Andrei is driving. Pavel appears from behind the driver’s seat. Diak emerges from the back, passenger seat. Finally, Tolya scoots out from his spot between the last two men. With Vigo dead, there should be six Dogs left.
“Where’s Lex?” I ask Vlad as he approaches.
The Ukrainian’s long, dark hair is tied into a braid, and his head is covered in a black beanie. He’s wearing his Reapers vest and carrying a pistol in his front pocket with the handle very clearly sticking out. He’s older than my pop, but still impressively burly for a man who’s spent the last decade doing little more than eating, drinking, and fucking.
“Your brother is good, yes?” Vlad asks me while gesturing for Tolya to open the back door.
“He’ll be fine,” I mutter and prepare to ask about his cousin again. Then Diak and Pavel yank a bound-and-bleeding Lex from the SUV and drop him on the ground. “What’s this?”
“He sent Vigo.”
Lex can’t say differently since his jaw looks broken. I doubt he’s got a single tooth left in his fat head. He stares at his cousin with begging blue eyes.
“Why?” I ask, certain this is a trick.
“Lex wanted revenge for Butch firing him from a worksite.”
The man on the ground moans as if to speak, but Tolya shuts him up with a boot on his shattered jaw.
This isn’t what I expected, but I remain calm. They might be pulling a ruse to get us to lower our guards. Perhaps, they worry Cooper and Colton are hiding nearby. I’m not sure what they want to happen next. I only know I’m the one Vlad wants to impress.
“You’ve always been loyal, Vlad, but I have trouble believing your cousin would have made such a big fucking move without your approval.”
“I’ve carried him all my life, and this is what he does to me,” he says, spitting on Lex.
Vlad doesn’t answer why Lex would screw over the Dogs by shooting Butch. If I had to crawl into the heads of these men, I’d guess they thought Vigo would kill Butch and get away clean. No one would know it was them. Or at least be able to prove it. My brother fucked up Vigo, though, ruining their Plan A.
What I’m looking at now is Plan B.
“I understand he’s family, but this shit can’t stand,” I tell Vlad.
Without missing a fucking beat, he pulls his weapon and fires down into his cousin’s face. I feel Jack adjust behind me. Ron might be nervous too. None of us expected Vlad to kill his family. Hell, why not fuck up one of the lesser guys?
I hear Soso’s voice in my head, explaining that Vlad wants to live and he didn’t know if Butch would survive. Killing a Dog that I’ve barely spoken to wouldn’t be enough to make peace. He had to sacrifice someone important in case my brother died. Now he’s proven his loyalty.
I remember Soso’s advice about these men. They aren’t worried about me. They fear my uncles and the sheer numbers in the Reapers club. If I want to take them down later with Butch’s help, I have the opportunity to walk this back. Vlad thinks I’m dumb enough to trust him. I decide to play into that misconception.
“Talk about fucking loyalty!” I announce, smiling and clapping my hands. “Did you see that shit, Jack?”
“Yeah, I saw it.”
Waving off Jack’s grumpy cat routine, I smile at Vlad. “I was just saying to my cousin how I didn’t think you’d betray the club. My uncle said you were solid. That’s why he made you VP. No, fuck, this,” I say, pointing at Lex, “is why he made you VP.”
Vlad mimics my smile. The Dogs relax behind him. Their hands no longer linger near hidden weapons. Their leader’s plan worked. No one else has to die. They can go back to the way it was. Well, until they get another shot to take over.
I’ve accepted their payment to make peace and stay alive. Their Plan B was a success!
And I’ll let them believe this lie until Butch is ready to help me ruin them all.
THE BOHEMIAN
Waiting for a man to come home from club business isn’t new to me. Even as a kid, I understood when Dad’s work got dangerous. The vibe in the house changed. Brotherhood guys talked outside rather than coming into the house. Dad’s body language shifted too. Not enough for most people to notice, but I was obsessed with him as a kid. I imitated his walk and talk. Mom used to follow me around with her phone, recording my “Dayton swagger.”
Then he’d be gone. Sometimes for days, doing things I never got to know about. For hours, I’d sit at the front windows of our house, waiting for his return. Keanu coped by staring at his aquarium, but no amount of colorful fish could settle me down.
That’s how I got into meditating. Mom insisted I learn after she caught me tugging out my hair while worrying if I’d ever see my daddy again.
Now I’m waiting on Bubba. He’s somewhere in this town I don’t know, with people I’ve never met, and doing things that might get him killed.
Meditating as I sit in the waiting room, I only speak when spoken to. The Johansson family keeps its distance. Butch’s woman, Sissy, is lost in her head. Her eight-year-old daughter, Haydee, though, talks to me about cats. Mostly, she wants me to adopt one that she’ll take care of for free. I suggest she get one for her house, and she decides my idea is better.
Then I’m alone in my head again.
Mom texts to say she and Dad will visit Conroe this weekend to check out my living arrangements. They’ll also transport Freki, Ula, and Bjork along with anything else I need.
Home feels far away, and I’m a little too aware of how it’ll never really be mine again. But I don’t let myself fall into the dumps. Finding a happy place in my head, I remain there as the hours drag on. Activity happens in the background, but I emotionally separate myself from the stress.
Butch is out of surgery. The family visits him. Cooper and Colton Johansson show up and then leave. I keep my mouth shut and my head down. Bubba will return.
Until then, I hi
de in my head where I fly with my birds. My hunky puppy lives in my happy place too. Always shirtless and smiling. I erase the bruises and cuts from his face. He’s safe here with me.
“Rutgers,” Bailey says after more time has passed and the sun’s set. Sissy is no longer in the waiting room. Her kids sit with Nick, watching a video. Now Mama Bear Johansson changes seats and plops down next to mine. “How do I know that name?”
“It’s a common name, ma’am.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What would you like for me to call you?”
“Bailey. No, Bubba’s mother.”
“Well, Bubba’s mother, I’m sorry we had to meet under these circumstances, but I won’t pretend to fear you just because your boy’s been shot.”
“Rude.”
“That means a lot from a woman who called me a hoochie before knowing my name.”
I suspect Bailey isn’t accustomed to people pushing back against her bad attitude. My grandmother is the same way. Long before I was born, the Hallstead women branded fear in people’s hearts until no one dared cross them. Then over time, their asses were kissed so much that they forgot what saliva-free butt cheeks felt like.
Though no one avoids me out of fear, I’m very comfortable at the top of the power food chain.
“So, Bubba was in White Horse with Audrey.”
“At first. Then he was in Hickory Creek Township with me.”
Her expression freezes while her brain likely scans old information for why my hometown and last name matter.
“Which twin is your father?”
“The good-looking one,” I say, giving Keanu’s and my standard response to that question. Deciding Bailey’s dealt with enough stress for the day, I add, “Dayton.”
“He’s the slutty one, right?”
“Probably. Like I said, he’s the good-looking one.”
“I never liked your father. Handsy, rude, a little dumb.”
Okay, I can’t go full vengeful wrath on this woman since her son just got out of surgery. But no one talks trash about my family and gets away free.
“When I texted Dad to let him know what was going on, he asked if you still had your fake boobs. Unable to tell with the shirt you’re wearing, I figured it was best to ask.”