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To my surprise, the women here sit at the table with them, eating and dressed in warm clothes. I like that. I’m glad that our way of thinking is the same here. Women aren’t treated like second class even though we all know why they hang out. Some for fun with bikers and a little thrill to go with it, while others are escaping some kind of life they can’t stand living. In a way, we offer them shelter. It’s a win-win.
“Hey there. It’s Bear, right?” Looking down and to my right, I see a tiny thing with a full head of red hair looking up at me with big green eyes and a wide smile.
Immediately, the green takes me back to Athena and a fist twists around my heart.
“Yeah.” It’s all I can say without roaring my rage at the fact that my girl was taken while she was under my fucking roof. How the fuck did I let that happen?
“Tanker asked me to get y’all some warm clothes ‘cause, to be honest, that ain’t gonna cut it.” For a small thing, she’s got a strong voice that commands attention. I guess living with a bunch of guys means you toughen up and make yourself heard.
“Ah, thanks…” I have no idea what her name is so I let my last syllable hang so she’ll fill in the space.
“It’s Hazel.” She smiles again, her arms extending with a pile of warm clothes that look heavier than she does.
“Yeah, thanks. ‘Preciate it.” Just as I grab the load from her, the smell of perfectly cooked steak wafts below my nostrils and I swear to fuck, my stomach growls loud enough to scare Hazel into stepping back. “Sorry about that. I guess I’m hungry.”
“I get it, these boys get real ornery if they aren’t fed on time.” With a shrug, she tips her head toward the table and adds, “Go on, get yourself fed.”
Those are words I don’t need repeated. Dropping the clothes on the nearest couch, I join my brothers and Kincaid at the table, where Grinder hands me a plate.
“It’s official, we are making this type of breakfast law in Rockford. I don’t fucking care who I need to blow, it’s happenin’.”
“Don’t let Shade catch you talkin’ about blowing Vanessa.” Grinder’s head snaps to face me, his eyes narrowed and his lips in a thin line.
“What the fuck, Bear? Why would you even say that? I was talkin’ about Hoops. Christ, that’s like sacrilege or some shit.” Shaking my head as Grinder stomps away like I just kicked his puppy, I grin. Ain’t much out there better than getting a reaction from that guy. It’s fucking gold.
Once we’re all seated with our plates full in front of us, I turn to Sarge.
“I just wanted to say, I’m… we’re… real grateful for your hospitality here. Taking us in on your farm—” The whole fucking table goes quiet, heads turning to face me. What the fuck?
“Ain’t a farm, brother. It’s a ranch. Don’t confuse the two.” Um, okay?
“Duly noted.” And just like that, everyone goes back to eating. Odd but sure, when in Rome, I guess.
“Make sure you’re warm but comfortable. You need to be able to move about, be ready for hand-to-hand combat.” Sarge is givingus instructions as we suit up for the mission. We’re leaving in about twenty minutes, plans laid out and a goal in sight. “Remember, we’ve all got com devices on. There’s no need for screaming, just talk into the mic.”
“This is why I didn’t join the military, I don’t do well with commands,” Sledge murmurs beside me, his British accent feeling a little stronger right now.
“I dunno, I feel like we’re in good hands.” Kincaid is shrugging on a heavy white coat before pulling up the zipper.
“‘Cause you ain’t in good hands with us?” Grinder, always too loud, can’t help himself.
“Didn’t say that.”
“May as well have.”
“Shut yer traps, boys.” From the corner of my eye, I see Kincaid’s back go rigid. She won’t say anything but… “And ladies.” Sarge nods in her direction with a smirk at the corner of his lips. I think he was just looking for an excuse to single her out. Interesting.
“Sorry,” Grinder mutters as he sits on the edge of the couch, ready to go.
“Got your CFP right here if y’all want it.”
“What’s that?” Psycho is eyeing the black tubes that Sarge lays out on the table.
“Camouflage face paint. There’s black and white in there since we got a good layer of snow out there. It isn’t necessary but it does help. Over there, we’ve got the trunk with all the weapons. Only get what you can handle. If you don’t know how to shoot it, this ain’t target practice, this is gonna be life or death.”
I really like this guy. He’s smart and he’s up front.
“Good call.” Psycho goes over to our stash and takes out a couple of knives, his preferred weapon.