I reached my car, my run now over, and decided I needed some sister processing time, so I dialed Maisie.
“Well, hello, favorite sister-in-law on the planet,” she said.
“I’m your only sister-in-law, but I’ll take it.”
She chuckled. “You sound out of breath; did you just go for a run?”
“I did. And I nearly got killed.”
“What?” she asked with a gasp.
“Homicidal horse.”
“Bloody hell, Cricket, I thought you were serious,” she admonished. “Horses aren’t homicidal.”
“This one was.”
“Oh, really,” she deadpanned.
I sighed. “No, not really, but whatever... they’re all monsters.”
She laughed again. “You can have that argument with Poppy. She’ll set you straight.”
Poppy was obsessed with all things horses, she even took lessons from my landlord, Kim, and competed in events. I would watch her on occasion, so long as the horses stayed in a fenced area and I could keep my distance.
“Um, so, is Hatch at church?”
“Yes,” she said with a tone of suspicion.
“Would you mind some company?”
“Not at all, love. You know that you’re welcome here anytime. You don’t even need to ring first.”
I smiled. “I know... I just wasn’t sure if I wanted to make the drive, but I need some advice and I’d like to see you.”
“I’ll put the kettle on. See you in a few.”
“Awesome. Bye.” I hung up and climbed into my car.
I’d left work a little early to get my run in, so I was a little concerned about traffic over the I-5 bridge, but as I pulled onto the freeway, it looked like I had a smooth drive ahead.
I loved my apartment. It was super modern and had a view of the water, not to mention, my dear friend and landlord Kim gave me the deal of the century, rent-wise.
But.
It wasn’t close to my family. Technically, it was only about twenty minutes from Vancouver, Washington, but Portland traffic had become unbearable, so it was taking longer and longer to go anywhere.
This time, luckily, it took me fifteen minutes, so I felt a little pressure leave my shoulders as I used my key and let myself into their home. “I’m here,” I called out, and locked the door again.
“Kitchen,” Maisie called back.
Arriving in the kitchen, I grinned. Poppy’s head was bent over a text book, while Maisie stood at the island pouring water into a teapot. “This is the perfect scene of domestic bliss.”
Poppy rolled her eyes, standing so she could hug me. “You can do my algebra homework, then.”
“That’s way out of my mental league, sweetie. Sorry.” I chuckled, giving her a squeeze before planting myself at the kitchen island.
“Mummy, I’m going to take a break, okay? I only have one more section and it’s not due until Friday.”
“Is the rest of your homework done?” Maisie asked.
“Yep.”
“Off you go, then.”
Poppy cleared her mess and left the room, hugging me again before disappearing.
“So, what’s up, love?” Maisie asked.
“Minus.”
She pulled a stool out and sat beside me. “Hmm. Yes, I’ve heard all about the mysterious Minus.”
I grimaced. “Ergo, you’ve heard Hatch’s version from the filter of way overprotective and nosy brother.”
Maisie giggled. “Probably.”
“Everything’s a mess, Maze.”
“How so?”
I filled her in on mine and Minus’s altercation, because I wasn’t sure how much Hatch had told her from my freak out the night before.
“So, you hit him?”
I nodded. “Drew blood.”
“Goodness, that’s quite impressive.”
I sighed. “But now I’m feeling all guilty and shit.”
“Why, love?”
“How much can I tell you without it getting back to Hatch?” I challenged.
“I share everything with him, Cricket, but if it’s not relevant to your protection, or something that might piss him off, I’m open to keeping that between you and me.”
“Like something that happened when I was a teenager that might make my brother fly into a homicidal horse-like rage?”
Maisie laughed. “Again, horses don’t willingly commit murder... but yes, that.”
“Minus was my first love. He was my first... everything, and as much as I try to tell myself that I’ve gotten over him, I don’t think I ever have. I think he’s the reason I’ve never been able to fully drop my guard in any relationship, and why I’ve never been able to picture myself staying with anyone long term. I’ve always been able to use my business pursuits as an excuse for not getting overly attached to any man, but maybe Minus has always been ‘the one’ in my mind.”
“I take it he’s quite handsome.”
“No, sis, he’s fuckin’ hot. And he’s amazing in bed.” I gasped. “Sorry, that last part was supposed to be internal.”
“It’s been a long time since you’ve been together,” Maisie said. “Maybe he’s not as good in bed as you remember.”
“Maybe.” I laughed. “God, I want to find out, though. Especially now that he’s got this slight southern twang thing going. So, so sexy.”
“You are an adult now, love. You can sleep with him if you so desire.”
I shook my head. “I’m not ready to go down that rabbit hole. I mean, not that he’s offering, or anything. Right now, he hates me, and I’d like to keep it that way, because the second that man’s dick is inside of me, I know two things: I’ll want more, and I’ll ignore some of his glaringly bad personality flaws.”
“Well, I can relate to the wanting more,” she said. “But I’ve never seen you explain away personality flaws... with anyone.”
“Because you haven’t seen me with Minus,” I admitted. “He’s my Achilles heel.”
“Wow. Your brother didn’t mention all of this.”
“My brother doesn’t know all of this.” I grimaced. “Minus and I were together for almost a year, but we kept the depth of our relationship secret right up until the end. No one knew the whole story.”
“Him leaving must have been tough.”
I nodded, biting back tears. “One day he was here, the next he was gone, and I never heard from him again.”
“What a bastard.”
“That’s what I thought back then, too. But, last night... he seemed confused.”
“Confused, how?”
“Like he’d kind of been bamboozled by Cutter as well. Like none of this was his choice. Of course, I knew my brother didn’t want us seeing each other, and that Cutter was angry at Minus, but I figured since he never reached out after he moved away, that he simply didn’t care about us.” I let out a frustrated groan. “I can’t go there. If I give him any leeway emotionally, I’ll let him back in.”
Taking the subject off my overwhelming emotions, she asked, “So, Cutter wants him to take over the club?”
“No, he wants us to take over the club.”
“Holy shit,” she breathed out.
“Exactly. I think he’s gone a little insane. It’s the dumbest idea on the planet.”
“Yes, it’s a bit out there. Plus, the Burning Saints are one-percenters, which means they’re all criminals.”
“I know,” I rasped. “It’s a shit show. The thought of Minus going to jail is just too much to deal with.”
“You mean, you don’t want him to do anything criminal that would put him in jail?”
“No. I mean, I don’t want him to get caught.”
“Whoa, love,” Maisie said. “That deescalated quickly. I find it interesting that you were concerned about him going to jail... not that the club or his actions might be criminal.”
“You’ve been married to a club member long enough to know that sometimes you have to bend the law. It’s not like the Do
gs are pure as the driven snow.”
“I hear you, Cricket, but your brother always does the right thing, and would never choose violence to resolve matters. And the club’s businesses are all legal, so I don’t have to worry about him going to prison. If you really feel like it’s okay for Minus to flat-out break the law, then you might not like the end result, because you’ll be able to justify any yellow or red flags that come up. And, I’m sure as hell your brother’ll burn the club down if you get dragged into anything he doesn’t approve of.”
“Oh, I’m aware.” I sighed. “God, this is so hard. I just wish I knew exactly where Minus has been and what he’s been up to all this time.”
“You know, there’s a way you can find out all the information about Minus that you need,” she said.
“Booker!” I exclaimed. Booker was the Dogs of Fire resident computer guru and finder of all things. “Yes, that’s perfect. I can have him hack his DMV records, utility bills, credit card statements—”
“No, silly girl. You can ring Minus, and ask him yourself.”
“I don’t have his cell phone number,” I said, figuring that was enough to shut that idea down.
“Perhaps, that’s where you could ask Booker for assistance.”
“I could,” I confirmed. “But Booker will tell Hatch if I ask for information.”
“Oh, sweet, darling girl,” she sang. “You don’t ask Booker... you ask Dani.”
I let that nugget of advice sink in, and smiled slowly. “You are a devious genius, Maisie. Has anyone ever told you that?”
“Lots of times.” She grinned. “My work here is done.”
“Babe?” my brother called.
“Just in time,” I whispered.
“Kitchen,” Maisie called.
“Is Cricket here?”
“Why don’t you walk your nosy ass in here and find out,” I retorted.
My brother strolled in, making his way to Maisie, kissing her sweetly, before leaning over and kissing my cheek. “You good?”
“I’m great. I was in the area,” I lied.
He stared at me for a second (like he did when he didn’t believe me), but he didn’t challenge me, and I let out the breath I’d been holding.
“Well, I better head out,” I said, and slid off my stool. “Early meeting tomorrow.”
“Thanks for dropping by,” Maisie said.
I hugged them both, then walked out to my car, but I waited until I was out of their neighborhood before dialing Booker’s wife, Dani. My brother still had omniscient ways and I didn’t want to chance it.
Minus
The NEXT MORNING, we headed to the Sanctuary, and the ride was shorter than I’d have liked. The weather was perfect, traffic was light, and as much as I hated to admit it, Cutter’s gift fit me like a glove. As brief as it was, the ride helped center me, to stop my mind from racing. As to what I was going to say to Cutter once we arrived, I had no idea. I wasn’t as angry for being jerked around as I was last night, but my confusion about the situation was growing.
The parking lot was populated with the rides of those still sleeping it off inside. Many of the Saints crew were getting up there in years, but still partied like they were young men. This meant longer hangovers and shorter lifespans for many of them. No doubt, last night’s battle of the livers had surely left its share of casualties on the field.
The property was littered with beer cans, food wrappers, and red plastic cups. For reasons unknown to me, the chapel had been made up with Christmas decorations, complete with a giant inflatable snowman and a plastic nativity set. The three wise men had been replaced with novelty inflatable sex dolls. They were all male models, with “realistic” chest hair, and each was wearing a Santa hat over his junk. The three of them lined up with their mouths open made them look as if they were actually saying, “Ho, Ho, Ho.”
“What the baby Jesus happened after we left?” Clutch asked.
“I’m not sure we really want to know.”
“Let’s go find Cutter,” Clutch said.
“If he’s not stuck in the fuckin’ chimney.”
The inside of the chapel looked as if a bomb had gone off during the taping of the “Burning Saints Holiday Special.” A very fresh-looking fir tree was propped up in the corner and decorated liberally with bras and panties. Grown ass men were passed out with Christmas ornaments hung in their beards. Tinsel was draped over every imaginable surface, and where there wasn’t tinsel, there were lights. Saints were strewn about the place, asleep on any chair, sofa, or available flat surface. “Christmas with the Devil” by Spinal Tap played on repeat in the background, but did little to drown out the sound of twenty or more men snoring.
“What the fuck is that smell?” Clutch held a hand over his nose and mouth, as a sickening odor wafted my way, instantly making me want to hurl. The search for the smell’s source led me to the kitchen, where I’d indeed found the scene of the crime.
The murder weapon; Eggnog.
To be more specific, this was some sort of biker eggnog. Cartons upon cartons of eggshells were stacked by the trash, next to empty milk and Bailey’s bottles. There was also at least a half-dozen bottles of Jägermeister next to a giant punchbowl, that held the remainder of this wicked holiday concoction.
“What the fuck?” Clutch asked in horror. “How much of this shit did they make?”
“How much of it did they drink?” I asked, as another wave of the foul odor hit us.
“Oh, shit. How much did they puke up? We gotta get the fuck outta here, Minus. Let’s find Cutter and split.”
As we made our way back to Cutter’s room, I prepared myself for the worst. I tapped gently on his door, and was surprised to hear him respond instantly.
“Come on in,” he answered brightly.
I entered to find Cutter fully alert and dressed for the streets. His beard was trimmed, his hair was slicked back, and although he was utilizing a silver-topped cane, he looked ten years younger than the man I’d seen last night.
“Minus, good morning. You okay? You look surprised.”
“To be honest, I expected you to be wearing a Santa suit, face down in a puddle of whatever the fuck I saw in the punchbowl.”
“Jägenogg. It’s one of Warthog’s holiday traditions.”
“It smells like a fucking chemical weapon,” I said. “No wonder you have cancer.”
Cutter laughed. “I don’t drink that shit! You think I’m crazy?”
“I guess that’s why you’re the last man standing today.”
“The boys took the news hard last night, God bless ’em, and they drank hard to soften the blow.”
“What’s with Santa’s workshop?”
Cutter smiled wide. “At some point last night, one of these kindhearted idiots realized that I might not make it to Christmas, so they brought Christmas to me, presents and all.”
“Hey, speaking of presents,” I began my protest. “About that Fat Boy—”
Cutter cut me off. “I was about to have Warthog drive me down to my favorite coffee place. Why don’t you come with me, so we can talk?” He turned to Clutch. “Do me a favor, will ya? Help get these guys up and outta here. Get some recruits to help you. Minus and I’ll be back in a while.”
Clutch shot me a “what the fuck” look, and I shrugged in response.
I followed Cutter out to the back lot, where Warthog was waiting by a white Town Car.
“Still got a thing for Lincolns, I see.”
“Minus, the 1996 Town Car is the greatest American sedan ever built. Why would I ever want any other automobile?”
“How can I argue with such sound logic?” I replied.
“You seem a little more agreeable this morning. That’s good, because we have a lot to talk about. Ride in the back with me.”
I did as Cutter asked, and Warthog headed for Front Road, towards the Pearl District.
“Minus, you’re a smart young man. You figured any of this out yet?” Cutter asked.
&nbs
p; “Which part exactly are you talking about? There are so many fucking crazy things going on right now I can barely keep up. I’m still not even sure what happened last night, let alone why you’d want me to wear your patch.”
“I’m not asking you to wear my patch. In fact, that’s the absolute last thing I want.”
“Then, what’s all this bullshit talk about me running the club?”
“It’s true that I want you to be the next club’s president, but I want you to wear your patch and leave your mark. Look, I get that you’re pissed off about me sending you to Savannah, but I had my reasons and some of those reasons I’m ready to share with you, but first I need to know if you’re with me.”
“Cutter, how the fuck can I be with you when you don’t trust me?”
“You think I sent you away because I didn’t trust you?”
“You certainly didn’t trust me with Cricket!”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
“The minute you found out that we were serious, I was done for.”
“Oh, shit! You think I sent you away because of Cricket?” He and Warthog burst into laughter. “I kept the two of you apart to keep the peace with the Dogs of Fire, which is very important to me, but do you think I actually care about who you’re fucking?”
“You told me to never speak her name again, and dangled me over the side a fucking bridge!” I exclaimed.
“All beneficial in getting you out of town for sure, but I would’ve thought that you’d have figured out by now that your exile had nothing to do with Cricket.”
“Then, why send me to Savannah at all?”
“The same reason I do anything; for the good of the club. For your good, too, as a matter of fuckin’ fact.”
“My good? How the fuck do you figure you were doin’ me any favors?” I snapped.
Cutter smiled. “That’s a nice little drawl you’ve got there for a city slicker. I bet everyone around here figures you picked it up in Savannah, but I suspect it’s from spending time with Duke.”
“What the fuck do you know about Duke?”
“Who do you think sent you to him? You know he had you pegged within five minutes of meeting you. Looks like he wasn’t wrong.”
“What are you talking about? Zaius sent me to Duke.”
Minus (Burning Saints MC, #1) Page 5