Dreamer: Book 7 of The Steel MC Montana Charter

by Michel Prince

  “That would be me.” Red pushed his chair back a bit from the table and glanced past the man to Topaz currently spinning upside down on the pole. “Enjoying the show?”

  Baldy, Hollywood and Onyx all stood, but didn’t block the man’s view of Red. Nope, no reason for Red to stand, this was their bar, their Hoez and their town. Red stood when he felt a need and none was granted. Not yet.

  The man didn’t turn. “We’re interested in making a deal to buy some guns. We hear tell you might have some to sell?”

  “Got some bad intel,” Red said shifting to reach for his beer. “Didn’t you see the sign by the door? We ban guns at the Roadhouse.”

  Half the men were biting back smiles, lord knows not a single member of the MC, man or woman had ever seen the sign and turned around to put their weapon back.

  “Where did you hear that from?” Red asked taking as sip of his beer.

  The hair on the back of Freaky’s neck rose. Guns. What the hell were they up to? They’d run once, but only in tandem with Nevada. Blocking their enemies from getting weapons, not really running them.

  “Around Berrington.” The man pushed the flop of hair back away from his eyes.

  “Well, that doesn’t really answer my question now does it?” Red glared. “Besides, this ain’t Berrington. Lord knows I don’t know what goes on there, no reason why they should know what we have cooking here.”

  “They were right about the women,” the man said, finally looking back to the dancers. “Food too. Even the interesting mix of men in your club.”

  Onyx crossed his arms to glare at the man. It was one thing to have women of every race to satisfy the men, to roll in a mixed club was frowned upon in many circles and every man at the table knew it. But most of the men around the table had served in one way or another in a combat situation the last thing you worried about was the color of the man next to you. The few outliers had proven their worth honestly, and Onyx was one who’d served in his own way. LAPD in many ways was just as brutal as any military unit and the streets had their own warzone areas. The man didn’t lose his lower leg playing tittlewinks and there wasn’t a man here who didn’t see him as their brother now. If they didn’t they’d have to answer to Red. No one wanted to answer to him.

  “If it’s an issue, the doors over there, tip your waitress on the way out,” Onyx stated under no delusion of what or who the man was referencing.

  “Nah, I’m good, a bit confused, but good.”

  “What’s confusing?” Hollywood asked, the former lineman, turned sheriff wasn’t wearing his badge at the moment and there was always a distinction when it came to what was on his back.

  “Can’t see you as men without connections.”

  Freaky couldn’t tell if this meet was going south and if he should step in. But his gut tightened to the point he stood. Catching sight of the man’s rank on his cut. An enforcer, same as Freaky. The idea of running guns seemed a bit less back breaking with a quicker turn around for cash. “Speaking of the girls, I know their moves well enough, it’s about to get loud. Maybe we should take this conversation somewhere else. The Roadhouse really isn’t a place to have this discussion.”

  Red, shot Freaky a look that had him questioning his words before nodding his head to the men. “Freaky here is right. Let’s meet another time and place. We don’t have any guns to sell at this time.”

  “Well, damn. I was told I could get them from you anytime.”

  “We’re not in the business to sell guns, but we know people.” Red leaned forward in the chair, resting his forearms on the table. “Maybe the clucking hen telling tales was talking about Mountain. That man has a set of guns on him at all times.”

  Mountain laughed, giving a flex of his thick bicep.

  “If you’ll excuse us, we’d like to get back to our meeting,” Freaky spoke then sat, biting back his insolence, knowing he might have earned himself a few rounds of get your dirty whore mouth straight.

  “Thank you boys. If you can call me, maybe we can make a deal and help you out.” The man handed Red a business card.

  Red put it into his pocket.

  The Blood Sports left the restaurant.

  “Well, that was interesting. What should we do about them?” Red asked.

  Baldy answered, “I think we should let them go on their way. If they make trouble we deal with them.”

  Red’s blue eyes darkened as he glared down the table to Freaky. “You were chatty, something about them get your dick hard? There a reason you wanted to continue a conversation with them? Last time I checked, we don’t run guns. You made it seem like we do.”

  “We have.”

  “No, Nevada did and we helped. It’s a church discussion if we want new sources of income.” The gruff former Army Ranger was coming out in Red’s voice. Commanding and unyielding in the words spoken.

  Freaky didn’t know why they didn’t move guns. Most of the Steel Charters did something that wasn’t exactly on the legal side of life, but Montana was different and that wasn’t always a good thing. “I just thought—”

  “Don’t.” The word was hard with a sharp edge and it silenced the whole table. “Now, we need to find a way to accommodate all our visitors.”

  Freaky kept his big mouth shut as the meeting continued. His skin burned and mind raced through a million scenarios. Waving over Free, he got a few shots of Jack to get him through the rest of the meeting before he was taken down by Red.

  Breaking up the tables again, some of the men left, but most stayed and Red waved Freaky over to the newly set up four top.

  With a hard swallow of the burning liquor, he sat across from his Prez and prepared to accept the punishment.

  5

  Meadow couldn’t believe how long the drive up to Turnabout Creek, Montana was. She was tired and her mind kept wandering back to the places she’d seen along the way. The trip could have taken three weeks the way she wanted to pull off and take shots of the glory all around her. Sunrises and sets, silhouetting craggily trees still missing their leaves, their branches twisted and too far away to see the buds of early spring. Going through mountains, the winding paths, Nederland alone could have stolen a week by itself.

  They drove through the small town, older buildings with random iron decorations from when the place was full of ranchers. Down more roads with barbed wire stretched between wood posts. Fields were freshly tilled, ready for crops to be planted. Others had sheep or cattle. Most people made New Year’s resolutions, but each spring she found her life shifting. With the world renewing, her body followed the cycle and this trip was a metaphor unfolding in front of her.

  So many things had been left behind in Clive’s trailer. In the moment, she’d thought paints and supplies. A half-finished project or seven. Now family pictures, random jewelry and mementos made her heartache at the loss. Turning into a gravel driveway Meadow’s eyes widened.

  First, they passed a warm, inviting two story home with a covered porch and swing. Making their way around a trailer in better condition than most at the lot where she lived with Clive. Someone had even put a tiny picket fence around the edge to protect a row of flowers.

  Although this was clearly, a ranch like the ones they’d passed coming out, construction was taking place and many newer homes had been built recently, as they came upon the largest structure on the land.

  The line of bikes, her car, along with a pickup truck carrying the member Cake were parked at what appeared to be a huge house. There were motorcycles everywhere. This home had a porch too, with random outdoor chairs set up and coolers along the railing.

  Dell approached her car and Meadow lowered her window. “We’re here.”

  Meadow released her seatbelt and got out. Interlocking her fingers she stretched her arms high. The muscles along her back unlocking from the hours of being in one position. “Thank God, we made it. I wasn’t sure I could continue to drive.”

  “It was a drive, but you did good girl.” Dell walked beside he
r. “We could have had one of the girls who was riding bitch help you. Guess we’re so used to our routine, I wasn’t thinking about the fact you were soloing.”

  “It’s all good, I’m sure the random concert I was belting out would have been painful to someone’s ears.”

  “Oh, we heard it,” Dell teased and nudged Meadow with her shoulder.

  “You did not,” she balked.

  “Nah, but I did see your chorography a few times.”

  Heat crept up Meadow’s spine. “Where are we?” She reached for her purse with her camera in it. Telling herself, she would not take it out even though the golds and purples of the sun set were still finding purchase on the dusty chrome pipes. It was just because she wanted to keep it a level temperature.

  “We’re at the Montana Charter clubhouse. Come on, you can meet the people you’ll be staying with for a while.”

  “I only promised a week, the wedding, nothing more.”

  “We know,” Dell said, her face a bit crest fallen.

  At least the woman didn’t grab her by her arms and shake the sense into her.

  “I’m a little nervous. Are they any different then you? The last three days with isn’t going to tell me everything about you. Especially, when we’re on the road, but I—”

  “Yes, they are a little different than we are. But they run a clean club and I think you’ll get along with them. Come on.” Dell led the way into the large building.

  Once Meadow walked inside, she looked around. It was like a large restaurant. There were tables and chairs set up everywhere. Only they had couches along the wall and at the far end of the room, a huge TV was currently playing a Disney cartoon. A bar lined one whole wall. There were people everywhere. They looked to be setting up for a meal.

  “Oh good, we’re here for supper.” Dell smiled.

  “Dell!” A blonde carrying a baby rounded the corner and headed their way.

  “Roadkill.” Dell hugged the woman, smooshing the baby.

  Meadow instantly eased as if the aura she exuded was pure, positive energy. Even though the woman was named Roadkill, it seemed, she was stunning. Thick luxurious golden locks were smoothed into a ponytail that fell to her mid back. The baby was breathtaking, alabaster skin, red curls currently being kept from her bright blue eyes with a headband and rosy cheeks.

  Dell gushed all over the little girl. “She’s beautiful. Harlow you look just like your daddy. That red hair is something.”

  A tall man with bright Red hair walked up to them. “Dell, it’s good to see you.”

  “Red, it’s great to see you too.” Dell hugged him.

  “I’d like for you two to meet Meadow Lind. She was the woman I told you about.”

  “Welcome. I’m the one that will get you checked in and settled.” Roadkill beamed. “Are you all hungry? We knew you’d be arriving, so we made plenty. Maggie has been in the kitchen all day preparing the meal.”

  “Oh, my God,” Dell groaned like a soldier finally home on leave. “I have sick fantasies about Maggie’s cooking. Don’t tell Steel. I let him think I’m having sex dreams.”

  Meadow and the others couldn’t help laughing at Dell’s comment, but it also made Meadow’s stomach grumble a little bit. Thank God, a group of the men were singing a rendition of Let it Go with a little girl who was standing on the couch by the big TV. Her dark curly hair in a set of pigtails as she wore a blue tiara.

  Between the voices and the fact even Harlow was saying what sounded like go over and over they all focused on the leather clad men joining in with the little girl. Thankfully, no one heard her belly.

  “I see Mayhem is still ruling the roost and her daddy,” Roxy said as she approached the group.

  “She does make dinnertime more entertaining,” Red said.

  “Even the kids get nicknames?” Meadow asked.

  “Kind of,” Roadkill replied. “She’s Murphy, Cass and Lil’ Mama’s daughter. The little boy with the fade and little curls just on the top is her twin brother Braxton, or Chaos. Lil’ Mama had a bumpy first pregnancy. Maddox, the new baby, hasn’t gotten a nickname yet.”

  “Oh, my God,” Roxy cooed. “I forgot you guys were spitting them out left and right. Where’s the other new baby?”

  “In the kitchen strapped to Lil’ Mama. I swear we need to change her name to Superwoman.”

  “Kitchen. Food.” Dell’s eyes got big. “What did Maggie make?”

  “Brisket, potatoes, green beans and biscuits. Come on, let’s get you all seated.” Roadkill led the way. She took them over to a few empty tables. “Make yourselves at home. The food will be up soon.”

  Roadkill and Red walked away while Roxy made her way to the kitchen.

  Meadow leaned over to Dell. “They are really nice.”

  “Red is the doctor in town here. He’s also the President of this charter. Saved my husband’s life more than once. In service and after an accident, Roadkill is his wife and that’s their daughter Harlow.”

  “I see.” Meadow was unsure of everything. She had went through so many changes in the past few days she was overwhelmed. Although Roadkill did have a slight droop to one of her eyes, she could see no reason why someone would be called that.

  Looking around, she spotted several men and women. Some women sported leather coats similar to the men, while others were dressed as if they were about to dance for loose change. “Who are all those women?”

  “Those are the Hoez. They are the women that work at the restaurant as dancers. That’s why their dressed that way. They entertain the men here in Montana. I’ll introduce you to them later. Most of them came up from New Mexico they’re old friends.”

  “I see.” Meadow was floored. She couldn’t believe these women let others call them Hoez. It sounded like they were whores.

  Steel and the others came over and sat down right as dinner was served.

  Meadow followed them up to the long counter and grabbed a plate. Trailing Dell along the way and took food filling up her plate. She was hungry and everything smelled delicious. Better than the road food they’d been grabbing quick at truck stops.

  Sitting back down at her table, she used her fork and took a bite of the brisket it practically melted in her mouth. “This food is really delicious. I understand the dreams now.”

  Dell nudged her.

  Steel’s brow furrowed. “I knew it,” he said pointing his fork at her. “That’s it, my body is not your food substitute.”

  “Awe baby, you know Maggie is the best cook. I love her cooking.” Dell reached across the table and covered Steel’s hand with hers. “Besides, she may be in my dreams, but you’re in my arms.”

  “I feel like a cheap slut.”

  “Please, with the money we’ve put into your bike, you’re not cheap.” Dell stood and leaned across the table. Laying a big kiss on Steel’s lips as her hands cradled his cheeks. “You gonna show me how slutty you can be tonight?”

  “I don’t know,” Steel mocked indignation. “I saw Maggie made lemon bars, so I’m worried I’ll be the ignored one in a sick and twisted ménage.”

  “Lemon bars.” Dell’s eyes widened.

  “You’re gonna pay tonight,” he warned with a husky growl that made Dell’s lips curl.

  Meadow had to turn away in fear that Dell might crawl across the table and mount the man right there.

  Instead, Dell sat back down, glancing over her shoulder toward the long table as if she were searching out the illusive lemon bar. “Whenever we come up here, Maggie cooks us at least one meal. What can I say, they feed us well.”

  Roadkill came over to their table. Behind her, a tall man with striking features followed. Though his hair had a tapered shave on the sides, a flop of brown hair was pushed back from his chestnut colored eyes. He was biting on his bottom lip a bit and she wondered if there was a slight split in the corner.

  “Meadow, I wanted to introduce you to Freaky. He’s going to show you where you’ll be staying for now. They have a meeting to g
o to, then he’ll be down to take you to the trailer. I just wanted to introduce you two.”

  “It’s nice to meet you.” Meadow meekly stuck out her hand. Clasping her hand between his, fire burned along her arm when his calloused palm touched hers and he lightly tapped the outside with his fingers.

  “You too, Meadow.”

  The baritone of his voice vibrated along her spine as his lips formed her name.

  “I shouldn’t be too long then I’ll make sure you’re all settled in.”

  “I saw a trailer when we came through, I don’t want to be a bother. I’m sure I could find it again.”

  His hands still clasped hers. “The last thing you could be is a bother, Meadow. Besides, I passed a pretty tightly packed SUV out there. Many hands make light work.” Freaky released her hand and gave a nod goodbye.

  Then the men all slipped away up the stairs, some pulling women into quick embraces, other’s long and lingering. Children were gathered up and taken out of the wild and crazy room.

  Little Harlow, working on her steps, caught her eye and Meadow snuck her camera out, sneaking from the chair to her knee, right as a pit bull with thick muscles and a few scars approached the little girl. Giving her a target to aim for by sitting and waiting for the little chubby arms to wrap around her neck. The baby gently gave a kiss to the dog’s snout before receiving a long lick that slicked her hair to the side.

  All captured by Meadow’s camera in a series of clicks.

  Grabbing a beer at the bar before heading up Freaky turned to take in the woman he’d been introduced to. Meadow was stunning. Long copper hair, tucked back by a pair of tortious shell sunglasses. She did stand out from the locals with her flowery top and peasant skirt. He couldn’t wait to get back, take her to the trailer and show her around. It wasn’t until she brushed her hair over her shoulder, that he saw the yellowing bruise around her neck and he kicked himself. Jesus man. Was his dick always on the fucking make? She was a rescue.

  “I see Hack’s here, so I assume this isn’t the planning committee for his party,” Porsche said as she spun the top off his beer. The girl kept her hair a raven black and long. Known for her school girl outfits, her hair was in a pair of braids ala Britney Spears.