Preacher Man (Renegade Souls MC Romance Saga Book 2)

by V. Theia

  All the Renegade Souls boys had a crazy tick somewhere, he ruminated as he hung back and let Genty get a feel for H and vice versa. Maybe that was why Rider collected the guys he did. Crazy but loyal to the prez.

  “Watch this one.” Preacher didn’t notice Red at his side until he was there talking in a hushed voice.

  Shock went through him but he didn’t show it. Rather, he turned his head and Red was looking at the minder.

  “Say what?”

  “Big fucker with the hammer-head. He’s twitchy. See how he’s shifting on his feet and fingers going at his side. Believe me, he’s itching for a fight.”

  “Well don’t you be answering his call, jackass.” The name-calling came organically, Preacher didn’t even think about it since they were both talking in quiet voices. “This is just a meet for H. You wanna fight? You and me can throw fucking down later.”

  “I won’t start it. He will.”

  And what do you know? Bruiser did start something. Oh, it was subtle, just a turn of his body, Preacher saw it too late having walked over to get in on the talk with Genty, make sure he was square with H.

  “Fuck you. What kind of prices are they? I want bike parts, not a box of working organs from a third world country.” Growled H.

  “Those are the prices, my friend. Didn’t you tell him already, Preacher?”

  “I did. What’s going on?”

  “This mad fuck wants to double the price.”

  Preacher looked at Genty who smirked. Testing. New customers and this crazy shit was trying to shake down the Renegade Souls. Preacher showed his teeth, felt Red Light come up on his side. For once Preacher wasn’t bothered by what Red said. This was club business. “Forget it.” he turned. So, did H.

  “Now wait a minute.”

  “We had a price set in stone the last time I was here, Genty, I’m only here ‘cause you got spooked and wanted me to bring the boys. The price was done. You renege on a RS deal? Then the deal's off, we can get a better price for parts elsewhere. Be seeing ya.”

  “Those are the goddamn prices, for fuck's sake. Any lower I might as well give you it for free. And I ain’t about charity, not even for the Souls.”

  Right as he said that the big dumb bodyguard reached into his inside jacket and pressed forward as if to stop Preacher from leaving. “Got a problem, my man?” Voice like death. He sensed Red come closer to his shoulder. And if he knew Red at all he would be glaring at gun-toting-Pete. He pushed back with his spine to tell him to back up, to let him handle it.

  “The boss ain’t done with you’s.”

  “Is that so? He just heard me very clearly I was done here.“

  “I said. Boss ain’t done with you.”

  “Leave it, Preach. Let’s roll.” Ordered H in his brash brogue.

  Genty was forcing to have the upper hand, disappointing but no less shocking since he knew the guy of old, but not when a price was arranged and not when it was about his club. Preacher hated to walk away from a settlement, especially when the shop needed a supplier, but fuck it, he’d stay down here longer to scout out his other contacts who were not as reliable as Genty, but their price would be right.

  “Move the fuck away, shithead,” Announced Red to the bodyguard and came up shoulder to shoulder with Preacher. Nothing charming in Red. He had about as much patience as a snapping cobra did.

  “Genty.” Warned Preacher quietly, his eyes tracking over to his old associate. They’d done business over the years, Preacher using him for various things, and sure, every now and then Genty would try his hand for more money, it was business after all, he had respect for the guy up to a point.

  Already Preacher’s head was sifting through who else he knew, there was that one guy he knew back in his army days who was now running his own auto repair, he could reach out and call in a favor. Taking a step around the bodyguard, Preacher’s path was blocked by the wide shoulders and intense stare. “Reach for your piece and you’ll lose a hand,” he told him.

  “Boss ain’t done talking to you.”

  The fucker had a script and was sticking to it.

  “Step down, Ken.” Advised Genty in an irritated tone. He was trying to talk to H who was having none of the persuasion to try and get the deal back on track.

  "Yeah, listen to your master, Kenny-boy." Red taunted.

  Good old Ken had already raised an aggressive hand towards Preacher, grabbing his jacket around the shoulder.

  That’s all it took for Red Light to lose his ever-loving shit. Barreling forward, he grabbed Ken by the front of his shirt, Red got in his face, snarling. “The fuck you think you’re doing, wiseass? You don’t put hands on my fucking brother!”

  At that, two bodies from Genty’s SUV poured out. Preacher hadn’t even known there was anyone else in the blacked-out vehicle. They were equally wide and ugly.

  Fucks sake.

  He mentally braced. “Everyone needs to calm the fuck down,” he growled. He was too goddamn old for a fist fight out in the street like idiots.

  And what do you know, no one calmed down. He took a surprise fist to the cheek.

  And it was on.

  Ten minutes later both Preacher and Red Light were sat on the curb of the sidewalk, breathing heavy, Red was using the hem of his shirt to wipe a smear of blood from the corner of his lip. Preacher was inspecting his grazed knuckles.

  H was shaking hands with Genty. The deal was solidified. It had only taken a fast brawl to make it so. Talk about paying in blood. Preacher noticed Genty hadn’t gotten his hands dirty. Jackass.

  “You okay?” He asked gruffly, lifting his head to look at Red sat at his side. The crazy fucker was grinning from ear to ear. He’d had a grand time from the looks.

  The three bodyguards had hobbled back to their ride worse for wear. At least Preacher and Red got more licks in. Fuckers. Some meet and greet this had turned out to be. His ribs were killing him and all he could think about was Ruby and what she'd think if she'd known he was scrapping. Would she get all cute and patch him up, maybe stroke his head and give him those little kisses? Yeah, he'd like that.

  “Haven’t done that in a while.” Red chuckled and got to his feet, holding out a hand for Preacher. He grasped and hauled himself up with a groan of pain and old age rattling his bones. He rolled his shoulder, stretching out the kinks there.

  “That one big asshole had a hand like a shovel, Jesus, what does he eat, steroid infused rocks?”

  “You did alright.” Offered Red. Preacher cocked a brow.

  “You waded in there for me. This mean we have a truce?”

  Silence filled in the blanks and Preacher felt his hope chest deflate.

  Guess not.

  He wanted it done.

  For a moment back then, when they’d been fighting and throwing out punches to those fellas they’d grinned at one another, like old times, comrades in battle, it had felt fucking nice.

  “Look, never mind, the heat of the moment shit, I get it.“ He began walking away. He was too old for this crap, his ribs made him feel ancient, that’s what they had prospects for, dammit, to do all the donkey work, he should have dragged a couple of H’s lapdogs here today, if only he’d known it would descend into WWE territory. A shower, some grub and he was making a call to that runaway.

  “Yeah, I suppose we can draw a line under everything. I just did save your ass after all.” Red said. And he grinned.

  Preacher laughed. He almost gave him that. But. “Right. It wasn’t me who stopped big dumb and ugly number three putting you in a headlock.”

  “Yeah, yeah, it was just cuddling. Can’t help everyone is attracted to me, brother.”

  Brother. That felt good. He reached out at the same time Red Light did and their sore palms met in the middle.

  “But, Preach…” they were in step towards their bikes.

  He cocked his head in silent question.

  “No more fucking my sisters, you get it?”

  Deadly seriously. Red smiled.
<
br />   “How many you got?”

  “Oh, you fucker.”

  Both laughed. “No siblings. Got it. Now I know.”

  “Though, from the looks of you with that hot chick, doesn’t seem you’ll be going near anyone else.” Nosy asshole was fishing in Preacher's pond.

  Preacher smiled and gave this to him.

  “Well. She’s taken off on me. So….“

  Red Light burst out laughing and slapped him on the shoulder that was tender, he gritted his teeth as a sharp blast of pain ricocheted throughout the top half of him. “This is priceless. Has king dick lost his touch? I gotta text and let Snake know this.”

  “I will fuck you up if you dare gossip to Snake,” eyes like razors, he watched Red climb onto his bike, start the engine. “I damn well mean it. You know what Snake is like.”

  “Priceless, brother.” He rode off.

  “Goddamn it, Red!”

  Growling a stream of obscenities, he climbed onto his own hog. Preacher knew one thing.

  His tiny dancer had a lot to answer for.

  And she would. Just as soon as he caught up to her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  “God doesn’t give you the family you deserve. He gives you the ones to teach you to be strong in times of adverse weakness.” - Ruby.

  Earlier that day.

  "This is the last handout you get from me, Rita. I can’t keep doing it. I won’t."

  She truly was the biggest pushover.

  She'd given in like a sucker. Like she always gave in to Rita. Before she could go to the bus station she'd called her and asked to see Sebastian, it was only when Ruby had said she had money for Rita that her sister had invited her over. Predictable and hurtful, but Ruby had jumped at the chance to see her nephew.

  "I swear! I won't ask again, sis. I promise." She grabbed the bundle of cash Ruby had drawn out of the hole in the wall, the last she had until pay-day and wasn’t that going to be fun, good thing she stocked up on tampons like she was training for the apocalypse. Her sister already mentally dismissing her turned and began walking down the hallway of her small two-story house.

  Ruby could see her lie.

  And it was more than probable going to go on drugs. Maybe Rita couldn't even recognize she was lying, she'd done it too often now. It fucking killed Ruby, you can't fix what someone doesn't see as wrong. There was a point in the lie you began to believe it, trust in it, and absolutely have faith that you were telling the truth. The sad fact was as much as Ruby cared for her sister she didn't trust anything she said anymore. All Ruby could do was change the pattern, she meant it, this was the last time, it had to be or they’d both end up destitute on the street, and what good was that for Sebastian?

  Sighing, she closed the door to the living room and followed behind to the kitchen at the end of the house. It was a pokey house with even pokier rooms, but given some love, it could be lovely. Rita was not inclined to make her home better for herself or her son, she was too wrapped up in her own selfishness to care.

  “Shall I make a coffee?” she asked.

  “Hm? Oh. I’m out, sis. There’s juice in the fridge if you’re thirsty.”

  “No. I’m good. Shall I pour juice for Seb?”

  “Nah, he’s fine.” Rita was busy texting so Ruby opened the fridge, maybe she could start on food for her nephew. Besides a few beers and OJ, the fridge was empty. Same went for the pantry.

  Dammit. Ruby could feel her anger rising. For fuck's sake, be irresponsible with your own damn self all you want, but not taking care of your child that was sinking to low levels of shitty parenting.

  “Rita, what’s for Seb’s lunch?”

  “Hm?” Finally, she deemed Ruby a second of her time, glancing up from the phone, her sister’s dyed light brown hair caught over one shoulder and her eyes unfocused. She wanted to believe that one day Rita would get her shit together, be a good mom, a decent human being, but then Ruby was a realist and knew her sister. If you looked up self-absorbed in the dictionary there was a picture of Rita. Beautiful and selfish.

  “Oh. He’s fine for now, sis. He ate a bit ago.” She replied noncommittally like she had no fucks to give that her son wasn’t having lunch or that there was not a scrap of food in the fucking house. What did he eat, fresh-fucking-air? Her lackluster response caused Ruby’s spine to tighten, she was biting her tongue so damn hard she tasted coppery blood, frustration flaring her nostrils.

  With only her bus ticket and twenty dollars in her purse she was out of options here, Ruby stepped across the kitchen. “Give me twenty bucks of that money back, I’ll run and grab some groceries.” She offered lightly, knowing if she sounded in any way like she was giving her sister a lecture it would erupt between them, Rita didn’t like the truth being handed to her.

  “What?” Rita embedded slivers of glass in that one word.

  Be civil. Ruby warned. Don’t knock the fucking self-serving look off her face.

  It was hard.

  “You need groceries. I can run to the store before I catch my bus.”

  She watched Rita’s eyes narrow, she popped up from her chair and glared so cold if Ruby was of a mind to care about what Rita thought she would have been chilled to the bone. As it was, she herself was fuming for that little boy in the next room who was playing so quietly she didn’t even know he was there. What four-year-old doesn’t make noise? She wondered. One who was conditioned to not make a fucking noise. She’d only been at Rita’s house thirty minutes and twice she’d yelled at Sebastian to play in the other room.

  What was he supposed to play with, he had a ball as far as she’d seen? That was it. No other toys littered around and when she’d used the bathroom upstairs she’d poked her head around his bedroom door, not one toy. So, on top of the zero groceries, she wanted to know what happened to all the gifts Ruby sent regularly for Seb.

  She knew. Rita would have more than likely sold them. And her selfishness just kept on rolling. Ruby was going to have to call on Jesus, or something before she smacked the tan off her sister’s face.

  “Jesus fucking Christ. Can you stop being you for a fucking second, Ruby? I said we’re fine. I can get damn groceries later.”

  “One of these days you’re going to have to be accountable as a parent. You have no food in the house, be pissed all you want, Rita, but stop neglecting that little boy, he doesn’t deserve it, now are you going to give me twenty fucking dollars back so I can grab some stuff for him?” She was done pussyfooting around.

  “You know what, no I’m fucking not. Take your goddamn money back if you’re dictating what I can do with it.”

  “What you can do with it? It’s rent! You think I’m funding your playtime with that waste of space you claim to love? Rent. Rita. Or did you conveniently forget you told me you were getting kicked out? Let me guess, the texting is to your dealer?”

  “No, it’s---”

  “Yeah, right, of course. I’ve heard it all before. Money, now.”

  It was rare for Ruby to talk that way to Rita, her sister blinked, her face turning an angry red, she shoved the money back into Ruby’s hand with force, she felt the bite of Rita’s nails in her palm.

  “Just get the fuck out. You didn’t come to see me anyway, it’s all about that whining shit in there, isn’t it? You don’t have kids of your own so you wanna take mine. Well tough, go get knocked up already and leave us the hell alone, Ruby, but that would mean you getting a life of your own, wouldn’t it? You’re not my mother and never will be, and you’ll never get Seb.”

  Her sister’s words rippled through her one at a time, tiny stabs of pain left in their wake. Sometimes the truth was about as stark of a reality as it could get. Nothing Rita said was a lie. She wanted Sebastian, she would be more than happy to take her nephew and give him a life better deserving of the one he had now. From his demeanor, he was the most depressing little four years old she’d ever seen. No joy in his eyes, no enthusiasm when he’d seen her, he hadn’t even smiled, as if even th
at was forbidden. Ruby’s heart was breaking every single time she saw Seb and a little more of his personality had been scrubbed away with a mother who had no maternal bond for him whatsoever. For Rita, he was a meal ticket, for welfare and Ruby’s kindness, to use against her in order to get what she wanted. If she thought it was beneficial to her to hand over care of Sebastian she would have done it already.

  Ruby could only help on the fringes. All the while worrying what was going to happen to her nephew.

  “I came to see you both, not that you’re interested, you’ve barely acknowledge my existence. You could have a home with me in Colorado.”

  “Give it a rest will you. We’re staying here. Dwayne has a job coming up any day now.”

  Of course, he does. As for what, a monumental douchebag? He was great at that already. She had no time for Sebastian’s father, he flittered in and out of their lives as and when it suited him, using Rita as much as Rita used her.

  Now that was the true circle of life.

  Ruby sighed, and slid into her coat, picked up her purse. She left the two dollars on the table and took only twenty. “Can I take Seb to the store with me?”

  Rita scowled, shrugged her thin shoulders, already dismissing Ruby. “Whatever, take him, it’ll keep him quiet, I have a headache.”

  If Seb was any quieter he’d disappear. But she didn’t say it. Instead, she walked through to the living room, smiled when he looked up with his big dark solemn eyes, playing with his ball.

  One fucking ball. Her heart was breaking. “Hey, little man, you want to come to the store with me?”

  He nodded and climbed to his feet. He wore threadbare jeans that were too small for him by at least a year, his footwear from the cheap section of Target had seen better days and when she bent down to tighten the Velcro strap on the casual blue and yellow shoe she felt how his toes were pushed right to the tips. Goddamn, Rita. He was the sweetest little boy, with a gorgeous face. She’d tried for too long to unravel all the intricate complications of Rita’s life, it was too hard, too time-consuming hitting her head against a brick wall, but Sebastian still had a chance.