Page 29

April

“Daddy is going to lose his mind,” Mercy giggles, piling even more of the shaving cream into the shopping cart.

“Well, they should know to expect it by now,” Kayla states without the giggles, though she’s smiling and trying hard not to laugh.

“It’s not like they don’t know with the three of us all home we’d end up doing something,” I add in as I push the cart, moving on from the shaving cream.

Everyone in town who knows Mercy and Kayla know they’re the daughters of the Devil’s Riot MC. Mercy, which is actually her middle name, is Twister, the President’s daughter. Kayla, the VP’s. Me though, I’m not a daughter to anyone in the club. But I’m claimed by Twister and Horse as family because I was best friends with Kayla and Mercy. So when we all got older, I was in the no-touch zone when it came to guys.

This being because Twister, Horse, and the others had made sure that it was well known. Plus, Logan, JC, and the other boys who we grew up with weren’t going to let the boys who went to school with us mess with any of us.

Kayla and Mercy hated it because this hindered their dating lives.

I didn’t mind though. It meant I didn’t have to deal with boys I didn’t want messing with me.

Where my best friends were boy crazed, I wasn’t. Sure I’d join in on the conversations regarding how hot a guy was, but I was never about the dating scene. Probably because I saw how my mom acted and kept screwing up her life going from one man to the next. She wasn’t exactly mother material, but she was still my mom.

A lot of time growing up, I stuck to Kayla or Mercy’s houses. I’d spend so many weekends at one or the other, they ended up buying a bed just for me. I thought that was awesome. Izzy, Mercy’s mom, told me more than once I didn’t have to go back home, that they could work something out with my mom so I could stay. I couldn’t do this to them. Plus, when my dad was in town, it wasn’t that bad. Sure, Mom would freak out, lose her mind and rant, but Dad was all about spending time with me.

See, my dad wasn’t exactly a biker per se, but still he was a biker. He just didn’t belong to a club. Stuck to the roads more often than not. He jokes and calls himself a road warrior, but to me he’s just my dad. He shows when he shows. Spending time with him was always a break from Mom but that’s all it was. A break. It never lasted for long.

Once I graduated high school, I was lucky to get a full ride scholarship to college. Now I’m in my last year and then I’m out in the real world. Though I have a plan, sort of what I’m going to do. I want to run my own business. That business being a bookstore. I’m a total book nerd and could lose myself in a book. All types of them. From romance to sci-fi to historical. Even documentaries.

Kayla and Mercy both think it’s a great idea. Others though don’t agree. They think I’m an idiot. In fact, a lot of people think this way about me, but it’s something I try not to obsess over. I also don’t speak about it. Ever. Not even to my two best friends.

“What are we thinking about doing with all this shaving cream?” I ask, looking between Kayla and Mercy. The two of them might be cousins but they could totally be sisters, they look so much alike.

“I’m thinking, we fill balloons and fill several of the guys’ rooms with them,” Kayla suggests.

“Better yet, let’s fill the beds with them under the covers,” Mercy states.

“Isn’t there another club coming to the clubhouse to visit?” At both their nods, I shrug. “Why not fill those confetti cannons we bought the other year with the shaving cream and hit a couple of the guys with it when they open doors to the rooms.”

“I love it!” Kayla giggles. “That would be even better than the balloons.”

“Yeah, let’s do it!” Mercy shouts. “We should add in something else too. You make them slip and slide.”

“I like it.” I laugh, shaking my head. Since we’re all staying at the clubhouse in one of the rooms, it would be easy enough for us to set it up.

Usually, the three of us when we were on breaks together, we stayed at the clubhouse so we could all be with each other and catch up as much as we could. During our summer breaks though, I stayed with one of them at home. I never went home anymore. I didn’t even have anything at my mom’s house. Twister and Izzy let me store my belongings in their storage unit they have behind the house.

“We better hurry. Our moms are waiting for us to get back, we’ve got to help prep for tomorrow. Uncle Thorn and Badger are manning the grills, but we’ve got to prep all the burgers, steaks, and Mom’s personally taking care of the pork butt,” Kayla announces.

“Your mom’s making a pork butt?” I loved Kenny’s BBQ. She smoked it on low for hours on end and even made her own sauce to drizzle over it. It’s the best!

“Yeah, she’s making like five butts. It’s why we better hurry.”

“Then let’s get the rest of the stuff on the list and get back to the clubhouse.”

The three of us finished getting everything we were at the store to get and headed to check out. It was all we could do not to laugh at the cashier’s face. Once the task was complete, we loaded my car.

It was a sweet ride and one that I worked hard to save for. Dad made me a deal and considering I held up my end, he’d helped me in getting my dream car. It’s a beautiful Chevy Camaro. Yellow with the black racing stripe. I call her Bee for Bumble Bee from the Transformer movie with Shia LaBeouf. I absolutely love Shia LaBeouf. If I had to pick my dream man, he would be it. Growing up I crushed on him hard.

On the way back to the clubhouse, the three of us talked. Mostly Mercy and Kayla. I listened and added to the conversation, but my mind was elsewhere. Like the dread of having to go back to school in just a few days.

I thought school would be amazing. And it is to an extent. There’re parts of it no one knows the truth about. Because I hide it. There were a few times where I thought about quitting. To give up and just say screw it. But I didn’t work so hard in high school, taking not just my regular high school classes, but being a part of the dual enrollment program and taking college classes as well, to give up what I’ve been working toward.

“So, after the party tomorrow, what if we all go do something to celebrate your birthday,” Mercy suggests, changing the subject.

“We don’t have to do that,” I mumble. I hate my birthday. My mom gave me my name, and she couldn’t be creative about it at all. Considering I was born in April. April Fool’s Day to be exact. Hilarious to those who thought it was a joke. To me, it was annoying to the point I despised it.

“You know we do! You’re turning twenty and we’ve got to party for you,” Kayla states.

“How about we just skip the celebration? We’re already going to the party tomorrow at the clubhouse. There’s another club coming and we can ignore the fact I’m turning twenty. We could celebrate later when I finish school instead.”

If I finish. I’m almost there. Just a couple more months and I’m done.

“Fine,” Mercy mutters, though I know she doesn’t like it.

“Thank you.” Reaching for the volume on the radio, I turn it up since one of our favorite songs blaring through the speakers. It’s an oldie but a goodie. You can’t go wrong with Hinder singing Lips of an Angel.