by Sweet, Izzy
“Fuck, you call the cage Barney?”
“Cage?” she asks.
“Yeah, the mom-mobile,” I say.
“Oh, I didn’t know you guys call them cages…”
“You’re getting off-topic, Allie Cat,” I growl. “Did you really have to roll over his bike?”
“I would have run over him too, but I thought he’d leave a dent in the van…”
I can almost believe it.
“Shit,” I say.
“Should I call the insurance company, or maybe like try to get him a new bike?” she asks quietly.
“Hell no, insurance companies ask questions you can’t answer right now. And you can’t buy a man a bike. Shit don’t work like that.”
“Oh, what should I do?” she asks.
“Not sure, baby,” I say before finally getting out of the bed. “I’ll figure it out though.”
She sighs.
“I love you, Allie,” I say, before grabbing her hair tight in my fist, “Don’t ever forget that.”
She looks sad and doesn’t say she loves me back, but she says, “I’ll try.”
And I guess for fuckin’ now I’ll have to accept that.
* * *
Closing the front door behind me, I start fishing for the spare key to the door out of my pockets. Can’t believe Allie got the best of all three brothers I left to watch her, but I nicknamed her Allie Cat was for a reason.
Fucking hell. She’s a fucking handful of sheer batshit crazy intelligence.
Standing outside of the house, waiting for the guys to show up to keep watch over her, I can’t believe I’m here right now and at this moment.
It’s the best fucking time of my life.
I’ve got the club and my family right where I’ve always wanted them. Shit, I wasn’t prepared to have a son thrust in my life, but I’m sure as fuck happy it happened. Just knowing Levi exists fills me with a purpose greater than myself. It makes me want to ensure the Bastards grow and thrive. He needs to get on a bike asap. Getting him a little dirt bike is a good place to start, I think.
Allie’s going to fucking kill me though.
Looking up into the clear Kentucky skies, I can’t imagine a better place to ever be.
The loud rumble of hogs coming down my street makes my fucking smile split my face. Ain’t nothin’ sexier than hearing the rumble of a bike.
Sound is one fucking thing though, the picture is entirely fucking different.
Motherfucker. I don’t got a fucking clue how Tampon got Hammy to ride bitch on the back of his bike, but he sure as fuck did.
Hammy’s so big, and hunched over Tampon the way he is, it kinda looks like one of them circus bears ridin’ around on a tiny bicycle.
What starts as chuckling coming out of mouth soon erupts into deep fucking laughs coming from my stomach from the sheer fucking absurdity of it.
Big ass man too big for most bikes is riding behind a fucking dude on a bike.
Fuck me.
Three bikes and four men pull into my drive, and I gotta sit my ass down on the stoop because I’m laughing so fucking hard.
Grem, Poster Boy, Tampon, and Hammy all dismount from their bikes and walk the rest of the way up to the stoop where I’m sitting. I do notice though that each of the fuckers makes sure to park nowhere near the back of Allie’s soccer-mom-mobile.
Clutching my chest, I look at Grem, and just the sight of him barely restraining himself has me about to lose it again.
“Fucking hell, Tampon, how’d you get Hammy ridin’ bitch like that?” I ask.
“Awww Pres, I don’t gotta be Tampon, do I?” Steve, forever known as Tampon, asks.
“You’re Tampon till something better comes along,” I say with a grin and nod to Poster Boy. “You wanna say anything to me?”
“Pres?” Poster Boy asks, confused.
Standing up from the stoop, I walk over to him and offer out my hand. “I owe you, Poster. I don’t know what all you said to Allie, but I got the impression it broke through some of them walls she had up in her head.”
Looking at my hand, he stares at it for a moment, and then shakes it with a firm grip. “I was just offended she forgot about givin’ me the name Poster Boy.”
“Fuck, only you could be proud of being the Poster Boy for retroactive abortion,” I say with a laugh and pull my hand out his.
Fuck, he was owed that handshake, but don’t mean I was happy to do it.
Grem wraps his arm around Poster Boy’s shoulders and says, “I brought them back to watch the house while we’re at Church. I figure they know the drill and hopefully won’t be fallin’ for any more of your ol’ lady’s tricks.”
Smiling, I nod my head at him. “I think as long as they keep their acts together, they’ll be good.”
Looking around the group, I say, “Poster, give me a second of your time.”
“Sure, boss,” he says and steps away from the group with me.
I start off by saying, “Poster, this is a Church night and I wanna let you know about some of the voting we’re gonna do.”
“I’m with you, Pres, don’t give a shit about the reasons or details. If you vote yes, that’s my vote. Nothin’ changes that, period,” he says and looks me in the eyes like I should have known this already.
Fuckin’ figures though, this is Poster’s way. He isn’t a blind follower though. He simply puts his trust in me to do whatever I think necessary.
Doesn’t care how dirty it gets, he does his job.
“Alright, brother, I appreciate that,” I say and then I add even quieter. “Don’t call Allie ma’am, ever.”
“No problem,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.
Nodding my head to the guys, I say, “Grem, let’s get the fuck to the club. It ain’t good for us to always be the last ones to show.”
Walking past the guys, I hop on my bike, stand it up, then look at Hammy, “Make sure you call Allie, ma’am. Got it, prospect? Tampon… Fuck, man. Don’t offer my ol’ lady a fucking tampon again, ya sick fuck.”
* * *
Every damn time I walk into Church it gives me the fucking gut clench. This is where we make hard decisions and then stick by them. Lives often hang in the balance of our decisions and we try not to take it lightly.
Walking up to the head of the table, I look down at the packed room. All of us are here tonight. I had Whitey call in the lifers and everyone else to get this shit settled quickly.
Sitting down in my chair, I look over at Whitey. “You filled everyone in on this morning and our current situation?”
“Best that I could,” Whitey’s deep rumble comes from behind his black, white, and gray beard.
“Good. I’ll give my account and then my ideas after we hear from Grem on the guns situation,” I say and look at the guys around me.
Grem yawns deeply and scratches at his head. “Brother, with that fuckin’ buyback program the government did a few months ago, guns ain’t exactly flowing right now. I got us a lot of ammo, but half the shit is for stuff we don’t even have.”
“None of your prepper guys in the sticks could help us out?” I ask.
“Not really, supposedly we’re gettin’ close to some apocalypse date or some shit,” Grem says with a frown.
“Fuckin’ crazy assholes,” my old man, Hound, says from his chair next to Whitey.
“You got any connections with some of them militia boys we could get guns off of?” I ask.
My old man knows just about everyone in this state, can’t hurt to ask.
“I’ll check in with ‘em, but if Grem is right, I doubt it. Those boys aren’t any smarter than the preppers,” he says.
I sigh. “Alright, that’s what I was figurin’.”
“I’ll try, though,” Hound says.
“Thanks, old man, I appreciate it,” I say and take a long look at him.
He’s a had a rough fucking time of it the last two years. MS has fucking destroyed his body to the point he’s gonna be in a fuckin
g chair before long. His refusal to take the meds, fucking bastard, has made sure he won’t live as long as he could.
Gonna tell him about Levi, maybe that will get his head out of his ass.
Fucking hell, I wish my mom could have met Levi. She’d have loved the little guy to death.
“Alright, guys,” I say and look around. “Scorpions hit us last night with Snowbird.”
Most give solemn nods, but a few have a look of rage or shock on their faces. I’m guessin’ the news hasn’t fully made its way around the club yet.
“Hit was bad, too. She was tortured and beaten to the point that there wasn’t much left of her body beyond her head. Whoever fucking did it, the sick fuck, left that without a mark, except for stuffin’ a poisonous scorpion down her throat,” I say, and can hear the rage I’ve been trying to keep in check in my voice.
“They broke a rule with us doin’ that, and I mean to pay ‘em back fully. But we can’t go half-cocked, we just don’t have the guns for this. We need to pull in a couple of the Nomads, and I want us armed and manned to the fucking teeth.”
A round of thumps on the table lets me know they hear me and want it too.
“That’s why I’m callin’ Garden City. Gonna see if a friend of ours out there can supply us with more guns until we can get the shit from Anchorage down here. They might be better equipped to help us in the short-term.”
“Fuck,” Grem groans loudly.
Looking over at him, I ask, “What?”
“They’re gonna charge us for this, and they’re gonna send that fucking freak again,” he growls.
I shrug my shoulders. “I’ll make sure the deal is beneficial to the both of us. I don’t think they’ll ask too much, considering what we’ve done in the past.”
“Seconded,” Whitey says from my side. “All in favor?”
Only Grem keeps his hand down before I punch him in the shoulder.
Raising his hand, he says, “I ain’t cleaning the back of his SUV this time.”
“Nah, that’s for Tampon,” I say.
A loud round of laughter goes around the table as the story of how Tampon got his name comes out.
Hound leans over to me and asks, “You wanna tell me what’s going on with Allie being back in town?”
“Yeah, after the meeting,” I say to him.
Nodding his head, he leans back in his chair.
“Another point of business, Hammy’s comin’ up on his eight months with the club,” I say, and the guys go silent again.
“He’s a good fucking kid,” Whitey says. “Real good, and his daddy, bless his soul, was a brother. As his sponsor, I’d like to put him up.”
“I was about to ask about that,” Grem says. “I think he’s ready for the patch. I second it.”
“All in favor?” Whitey asks.
Keeping my hand down while everyone raises theirs, I draw quite a few eyes to me.
“Pres?” Whitey asks quietly. “Somethin’ wrong?”
“Nah, but we gotta get him a new bike or something when we patch him. Him riding bitch behind Tampon is just fuckin’ wrong,” I say with a laugh as I raise my hand up.
“Next order of business, let’s get a party going in a few days. I want booze, music, and everyone here. Allie is back, and it’s time to welcome my ol’ lady into the fold,” I say over the loud cheers coming from everyone around me.
After the noise dies down, I raise my hand to signal silence and stand up from the table.
Looking down at Hound, I smile at him with a crooked grin. “I’ve got one more announcement to make, guys, and this one’s in honor of the old man here.”
“What the fuck?” he asks in his usual surly way.
“Well, since you’ve been an old man for the past decade, I made it official. You’re a fucking grandpa now,” I say and lean over to smack him on his shoulder.
The look on his face is absolutely priceless. I can see at first he’s not sure if I’m fuckin’ with him or not, but when he hears Grem beside me cheering, he gets a grin so wide it nearly splits his face.
“Well, damn,” is all that Hound mutters as he takes the slaps and arm hugs on his shoulders.
* * *
Heading to my desk in the club office, I look around the room and feel the pangs of rage start up again in my stomach. Last time I said anything to Snowbird, I was kicking her ass out of here. Now she’s dead in the morgue with her body torn to pieces.
Embracing that deep-down rage in my stomach, I pick up my phone and push a contact’s name.
Simon’s voice comes through the phone. “Coy.”
“Simon,” I say and sit back in my chair. “I’ve got a couple of… things the Bastards need help with.”
“What kind and when?” he asks.
Thank god he’s not the chit-chatting type of motherfucker. He’s creepy enough as it is. Fucker’s nicknamed the Spider for a reason, and from what I can tell, his web is so fucking big he probably already knows what I need before I do. I’ve only met the man once, when I was meeting his boss, and I’m not sure which one is more dangerous.
The germaphobe or the fucking devil himself.
“Guns, ammo, Jude, and some information on a name,” I say to start off the negotiations.
“Do I seem like a supply house?” he asks with a deep sigh.
“No, but we’re willing to trade favors or cash again,” I inform him.
“Give me the list and I’ll see what Lucifer says,” he says curtly.
“Twenty-five assault rifles, enough ammo to arm a small country, and a couple of crates of Glocks with ammo, too,” I say.
Simon’s tone is downright impatient when he asks, “Jude, what will his function be? Will he be killing or guarding?”
“I’ll need him to be Jude,” I answer, and for the life of me I can’t figure out what else Jude could be beyond a murdering psychopath who happens to be a good guy to have around.
“That will be on his premium time then, if he’s willing to come out,” he says coldly.
“I understand,” I say.
“And the name?” Simon asks.
I find myself growling, “Mikhail Rastov out of Florida. Russian prick, more than likely connected. Bratva of some type.”
The dead silence over the line tips me off that I might have hit paydirt by calling Simon.
“Give me five minutes, I’ll call you back,” he says quickly before hanging up.
Well, shit, I’ve known Simon to be abrupt, but that was just odd even for his douchebag ass.
Looking around my office, I spot the bottle of whiskey sitting where I last left it with the cap still off.
I drank a lot of whiskey waiting for Allie to come home.
Picking up the bottle, I put the cap back on and drop it in the garbage can beside my desk. Then I spin back to the window looking out into the woods surrounding our clubhouse.
Seven minutes later my phone rings again and I push connect as I snap it off my desk. “Simon.”
“The assault rifles will be free, and Jude will be there within forty-eight hours. He’s waiving any and all fees at Lucifer’s request. We want Mikhail, Coy. We want him,” Simon says with more inflection in his voice than I’ve ever heard.
“Dead or alive?” I ask.
“Either, but we need to know how you came across him,” he almost demands.
“He married my ol’ lady a couple years back and beat on her. She ran back home and I’m bettin’, with the way she’s actin’, he’ll be followin’ her soon enough,” I say.
“Alive, if at all possible, but dead is acceptable,” Simon informs me. “Guns and ammo will be arriving in thirty-six hours. Have someone at your clubhouse to receive the shipment. I’ll send what I can about Mikhail. Lucifer and I want to warn you, he’s a very dangerous man.”
“Yeah, well he ain’t ever seen a Bastard before,” I say.
Not much more is discussed before Simon hangs up the phone.
Fuck, what hornets’ nest did Allie bri
ng home with her?
Chapter Sixteen
Allie
“Put these on,” Coy says as he shoves a bundle of clothes into my arms.
I glance down at what he handed me then arch a brow at him. “Why?”
“Because that’s what you’re gonna wear tonight.” He nods his head at me to get to it and crosses his arms over his chest. Clearly expecting and wanting me to start stripping in front of him right here in the middle of his bedroom.
Over the past few days, things have been good between us. Ever since I had my little mental breakdown and we both got everything off our chest, the heat between us has cooled and we’re getting along, for the most part.
The only times we seem to have any disagreements at all is when he starts pulling heavy-handed stuff like he’s doing right now.
We’re both working hard to move on and put the past behind us, for ourselves and for Levi. I still don’t remember him completely, and I don’t know if these feelings that have awakened inside me are enough to build a healthy relationship off of, but I’m willing to stick around and give it a try.
I want Levi to have stability. Levi needs his father and Coy seems to need him just as much in return.
I also want Levi to have protection. There’s no doubt in my mind Coy will keep his word. He’ll kill to protect us, and he has an entire MC to back him up and help him.
If things with Coy and me don’t work out, and I’m afraid they might not, no matter how hard we try given all the shit between us.…
Well, I’ll just have to find a way they can still be together.
Even if I have to plant my ass permanently in Kentucky.
Shaking my head, I roll my eyes and walk over to the bed to go through what Coy gave me. “Since when do you care about what I wear? I already have a cute little dress I picked out...”
“Usually I don’t, you look fuckin’ sexy in anything you wear,” he admits, “but it matters tonight.”
“Oh? Fucking sexy, you say?” I smirk and glance over my shoulder at him, giving him a flutter of my lashes.