“Well, when do you want me to stop by?”
“We’ve got some shit to do this afternoon, why don’t you stop by at 6:00 sharp, how’s that?”
“You gonna be alright for a bit? I need to get by the shop.”
“I’ll be fine.” He lifted his plate. “Rinse that before you go, would ya?”
I rinsed the plate, put it in the dishwasher, and returned to the living room. “I’m going to get.”
Already immersed in his reading, he simply nodded. “Tell Navarro I sent my regards.”
I stared. “You sure you’re alright?”
He looked up. “Just go. Before I get up and put hands on you.”
I chuckled and turned away. “See ya, Pop.”
“6:00. Don’t forget.”
* * *
I knew it wasn’t going to be pretty, so I’d mentally prepared for the worst. I eased my bike to a stop at the far side of the shop, pulled off my helmet, and hung it on the bars.
Crip stood at the workbench tinkering with something. “Grab a beer and belly up to the bar, stranger. Where the fuck you been?”
“Just busy.” I took a few cautious steps in his direction. “Nothing really. Pop’s recovery’s slow.”
He glanced over his shoulder, his eyes widened, and then he spun around entirely. “What in the fuck happened to you?”
Here goes.
I stopped walking and shrugged. “I decided to just cut it.”
“Jesus fucking Christ, Peeb. Just cut it? If you just cut it, it’d be to your shoulders. If you just cut it, you’d still have that beard.” He laughed and then shook his head. “You doing another T.V. show?”
“Nope.”
“God fucking damn.” He tossed what was in his hand aside. “You did it to fuck the nurse, didn’t you?”
“No. I just did it.”
“You fucked her in the ass, didn’t you?”
“Nope.”
“But you’re trying, huh?” he looked me over, and shook his head. “You look like a snitch, not the SAA of a 1% club.”
“Thanks, Boss.”
“This is what you had to come by and tell me? That you whacked off your hair and beard so you could dip your dick in the nurse?”
I pushed my hands into my pockets and waited for him to finish his shit-talking.
He cocked an eyebrow. “What? No answer?”
I lifted my chin slightly. “You done?”
“Done with what? You look like you should be on a billboard sipping a glass of scotch and wearing a Rolex.”
“You done?”
“Done what? Done talking about what an idiot you look like?”
I clenched my teeth lightly and rocked back and forth on the balls of my feet.
He looked me over, and then turned toward the workbench. “Yeah, I’m done.”
“I’m asking her to go on the run to Palm Springs.”
He spun around. “You’re what?”
“Askin’ her to go. That’s what it is, an open run.”
“You haven’t had a woman on the back of that bike, at least for club functions, in ten years. You sure this is--”
I cocked my head. “You taking Peyton?”
“What the fuck does that have to do with anything?”
“You taking Peyton?”
“I’ll ask again, what the fuck does--”
“Yes, or no, Boss?”
He let out a sigh. “She’s coming along, yeah.”
I nodded. “Until you’re ready to toss her aside and forget her, don’t say another word about me seeing this girl.”
“Whoa. Hold on, Peeb. Don’t--”
I pulled my hands from my pockets and raised my index finger. “Not one fucking word.”
He picked up the brake caliper he was working on and looked at it for a minute. After wiping it free of oil with a rag and inspecting it under the light, he set it back down on the bench.
“Tell you what, Pretty Boy. I’ll keep my mouth shut on this deal until I see it influencing the club, your performance, or your well-being. Until then.” He shrugged. “I’ll trust you’re a big boy making big boy decisions.”
“All I ask.”
“If she gets out of line, I’ll call her on it,” he said.
“I know you will,” I said with a smile. “Her name’s Tegan, by the way.”
“Not to me.” He chuckled and reached for the brake caliper. “I’ll call her Crash.”
Chapter Sixty-Two
Tegan
The smell of home cooked food hit me as soon as I walked through the door. My mouth began to salivate as I tried to identify a smell that I recognized, but couldn’t completely place.
Bradley looked up. He was dressed in khakis and a nice shirt. “Howdy, kid.”
I walked up to him and kissed his cheek. “You look nice.”
He patted me on the back. “Thanks. Got tired of the sweats and tee shirt routine. Deann helped me get dressed all by herself. Took an hour and a fuckin’ half, though.”
I inhaled a long slow breath through my nose. “It smells good in here.”
“Deann’s going nuts. Don’t know what got into that woman. Must be our approaching anniversary.”
“She must be.” I took a few steps, inhaled another breath, and then turned around. “What is it? That she’s cooking?”
“Hell, it’s hard saying with her. But whatever you do, don’t go in there. She hates people dicking around in the kitchen when she’s trying to cook.”
“That’s good to know.” I let out a light laugh, not knowing if he was joking or telling the truth.
“Care to eat with us? I’m sure there’s going to be plenty.”
Spending time with Brad’s parents sounded like a great idea. “Sure, I’d love to.”
“Well, we’d sure like to have you.”
The sound of Brad’s motorcycle pulling into the driveway caught my attention. Bradley looked at me and grinned. “What a surprise, sounds like Brad’s here.”
I was of the understanding that Brad was going to be busy with club business all day, and was surprised that he had finished. I tried not to act anxious, but doubted I was very convincing.
“I’ll get the door,” I said, knowing I’d left it unlocked, and there was no need. I pulled it open and smiled.
He was coming up the steps.
“Hi.”
He met my gaze and grinned. “How’s it going?”
“I got invited for dinner.” I widened my eyes comically. “And, it smells really good.”
“I got invited to move a bed.” He leaned close “Pop was in a weird mood this morning,” he whispered.
“Seems to be in a good one, now.”
“Who knows with him.” He stepped onto the landing and kissed me lightly. “Fucker called me Brad.”
I chuckled. “Better than the circus clown.”
We turned and walked in together.
“Well what have we here?” Bradley said. “Don’t you two fuckers look cute together. Deann, come in here and look at this.”
Brad crossed his arms. “Jesus, Pop. We’re just standing here. It’s no big deal. Fuck.”
Deann stepped through the doorway and smiled. “You two look cute together. Dinner’s ready. Let’s eat. Help your father, Brad.”
“I came to move the bed,” Brad said.
Deann looked confused. “What bed?”
“Your bed.”
“Stop being silly and wash your hands.” She turned around. “It’s time for dinner.”
Brad looked at Bradley. “Pop?”
Bradley shrugged. “Guess she doesn’t want to move it. Women. When you figure them out, let me know.”
I glanced at each of them, then grinned. It was pretty obvious we’d both been set up to have a Sunday dinner all together without either of us knowing.
I was completely fine eating whatever it was she’d prepared, it smelled marvelous.
“Shall we wash our hands?” I asked.
“If we
don’t we’ll get in trouble,” he said.
We walked to the bathroom together. He looked at me over his shoulder as he dried his hands.
“Sneaky old fucker told me to be here at 6:00 to move mom’s bed.”
I turned off the water. “He told me he had personal business all day, and to come at 5:30.”
He smiled. “I’m sure it’ll be good.”
“Smells good.”
“I’ll get your father in his wheelchair,” I said. “I’m the one getting paid.”
He knew better than to argue. “Fine.”
Brad went to the kitchen, and I got Bradley loaded in his wheelchair. After wheeling him up to his spot at the table, I sat down across from Brad.
“Say grace, Bradley,” Deann said.
He met my gaze, rolled his eyes lightly, and then closed them.
I grinned, looked at Brad, and then closed mine.
“Heavenly father, we thank you for giving us the ability to gather here today as one. We thank you for our guest, Tegan, and for all that she offers this family in body, and in spirit. We thank you for the meal that’s prepared and before us, and we humbly ask that you bless it, so that it may strengthen and nourish our bodies and allow us to serve you further. In your precious name we pray. Amen.”
“Amen.”
“Amen.
“Amen.”
“What is it?” Brad asked.
Deann pulled the lid off the serving dish. “Swedish meatballs,” she said. “Pass it to Tegan.”
I glanced at Bradley, but I couldn’t look at him. I couldn’t look at anyone. At that instant, I was so filled with emotion that I couldn’t do much but accept the dish as he handed it to me.
“Thank you.”
I filled my plate with meatballs, potatoes, peas, and a little bread and jam.
Deann raised her eyebrows. “Do you like Swedish meatballs, hun?”
I glanced at Bradley. He smiled. I looked at Deann. “Yes, ma’am. As a matter of fact, I do.”
“Good. Bradley asked for them, and I was hoping you’d like it. It’s an old family recipe.”
After everyone had their food, I took an anxious bite.
Oh my.
I glanced looked around the table. Everyone was eating quietly.
I took another bite.
Holy crap, this is good.
It may have been an old family recipe, but it tasted exactly like the meatballs my mother prepared for me when I was a kid.
I missed my mother, and I missed her meatballs.
In my odd way of thinking, we ate as a family, whether we really were one, or not.
On that night, at my first Sunday dinner with Brad, his mother, and his sneaky father, I had a family again.
Even if it was only for one night.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Pee Bee
It was a typical sunny So-Cal morning. We stood in the parking lot, preparing to pull out for the two-hour trip to Palm Springs. Forty bikes, neatly parked side by side, filled the lot.
Crip positioned himself beside the bikes, up against the building. “Listen up, fellas!”
The crowd went silent.
“In today’s traffic, this is going to be a short little run, about two hours up, two there for lunch, and two back. There’ll be no stops. If you’re riding, you know the rules about pulling over, but I’ll remind you anyway, don’t fuckin’ do it. Lunch is meat, served with a side of meat, so if your Ol’ Lady’s a vegan, you’re out of luck. As always, colors in the front, colors in the back. Sicko, you’ve got sweeper duty. Any questions?”
He looked around the crowd and then nodded. “We’ll saddle up in about twenty.”
“What’s sweeper duty? Can I ask that?” Tegan whispered.
“He’ll be in the back, trailing behind the formation. In case someone wrecks or falls out of rank with a broken down bike. Sweeps up the mess. Sweeper duty.”
“And we’re up front here, with Crip?”
“Right behind him. Him and the road captain will be in the front. We’re right behind them.”
Peyton walked up the side of the bike and stood quietly behind Tegan.
“Tegan, I want you to meet someone.”
Tegan smiled. “Okay.”
I gripped her shoulders and turned her around. “This is Peyton. Peyton, this is Tegan.”
Peyton smiled and shook Tegan’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“Really nice to meet you, too. Have you been to many of these?”
Peyton nodded. “A few. It’s fun. They call it a short run, it’s not. Two hours solid. But it’s exciting. Wait till you hear all the bikes fire up. It’ll get your blood going.”
“My blood’s already going,” Tegan said. “I’m excited.”
“She’ll be in front of us, riding with Crip,” I said.
“Cool.”
“It was nice to meet you,” Peyton said.
“Nice to meet you, too.”
Tegan turned toward me. “She’s nice.”
“She’s nicer than that,” I said.
“What do you mean?”
“You see. In time. Nobody’s going to be too nice to you today, because they don’t know if you’ll be around for long. They don’t want to try and buddy up to you, and then never see you again.”
“Oh.” She made a pouty face. “Am I going to be around for long?”
She wasn’t going anywhere unless she wanted to, but convincing her seemed impossible. “If I got any say in it, yes.”
“Who else has a say?”
“You.”
“Anybody else?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
She grinned. “Okay.”
“If you need to use the bathroom, you better do it now.”
“I’m okay.”
“You sure?”
“Positive.”
“We won’t be stopping.”
“Even if I have to pee?”
I couldn’t help but laugh. “Even if you have to pee.”
“Let me see what I can do, then.”
“Far left side of the shop,” I said. “In the back.”
“Be back in a minute.”
Within a few seconds of her walking away, Crip emerged. “That’s her, huh?”
“That’s her.”
“Cute little bitch.”
I nodded. “She ain’t bad.”
“How old is she?”
“Same as Peyton,” I said.
He crossed his arms. “She up for this ride?”
“It’s two fucking hours, Crip. We ain’t going to Canada. She’ll be fine.”
“So, what’s this about?” he asked. “Is this revenge for the bike, or something else?”
I shrugged one shoulder. “Something else.”
He dropped his eyes to the ground, cleared his throat, and looked up. “See it lasting?”
“Yep.”
He glanced over his shoulder. “She isn’t anywhere near here. It’s just you and me, Peeb.” He cocked an eyebrow. “You see it lasting?”
I nodded. “Sure do.”
“Until?”
I glanced toward the shop and then at Crip. “Whether or not it lasts with her, I guess I’ll find out in time. But I’m done being the person I was. I know that.”
“What do you mean?”
“I ain’t screwing around with women like I was.”
He barked out a laugh and shook his head. “Oh really?”
“Yep.”
“And, why’s that?”
I wasn’t in the mood to tell him of the long discussion my father and I had, nor did I think that he’d believe me if I took the time to try and explain. He’d simply criticize me and laugh.
I shrugged. “Lots of reasons.”
“Like?”
“Look, Crip. I like this chick. That’s all that matters. Give me a chance.” I noticed her walking toward us, and tilted my head in her direction. “And give her one too.”
He pursed his lips and gav
e a shallow nod.
Tegan stopped fifteen feet or so from where we were standing and waited. He must have sensed her.
He glanced over his shoulder. “If you aren’t afraid of him, you’ve got no reason to be afraid of me,” he said flatly.
She stepped to our side and pushed her hands deep into the pockets of her jeans. It was the same nervous gesture she’s made that day on the highway after the wreck. As she forced a slight smile and swiveled her hips back and forth, he turned to face her.
“Name’s Navarro,” he said. “You can call me Crip.”
She nodded once. “Okay.”
He waited a few seconds for her to introduce herself, but she didn’t. She simply stood there and looked at him as if sizing him up. He returned her stare, stone-faced.
I’d warned Tegan of what Crip might call her, and wondered if she was reluctant to introduce herself, only to have Crip call her something else.
The stare-off continued for a few more seconds, but it seemed like forever. I tried to keep from laughing. Whichever one spoke first would be the loser. My money was on Crip walking away without another word. About the time I guessed he’d turn away, his mouth curled into a smirk.
He shook it off.
“You got a name?” he asked dryly.
“Name’s Tegan,” she said straight-faced. “But you can call me Crash.”
I tried to keep a straight face, but couldn’t. As I coughed out a light laugh, he glared at me and then looked at her.
He exchanged glances between us, met her stone-faced stare, and then shook his head. “Fucking comedienne, huh?”
She held his gaze and shrugged. “It just comes naturally.”
He looked at me. “You two are fucking perfect for each other.”
And he walked away.
Chapter Sixty-Four
Tegan
Riding in formation with forty motorcycles was an experience. The comradery, professionalism, and skill of the riders was second to none. Riding with the men of Filthy Fuckers MC along the Pacific Coastal Highway was akin to being in a synchronized swim team.
Side-by-side, the motorcycles started, turned, sped up, slowed down, and stopped. Their placement in the formation was assigned, and no one broke out of the formation during the entire trip.
Filthy F*ckers: The Complete Series Box Set Page 32