Page 9
Story: Coast
I didn’t expect to see anything.
Least of all something that would send me running for our lives.
CHAPTER THREE
Coast
“I gotta ask,” I said, passing Caymen a beer as he stood looking at the empty pool.
The brothers had shown up just about a half an hour before, talking to Huck and the other OG guys for a while before being introduced to the rest of us.
There was a clear age gap between the two of them. Caymen, the older brother, had a solid eight or ten years on Dixon.
While both brothers were tall and fit, Caymen had that bulkier frame that came with age and more time in the gym. Both were also dark-haired and eyed, and sported various black and gray tattoos, but that was where the similarities ended.
Caymen had a wider jaw with a short beard, stern-looking brows, and a familiar dark look in his eyes.
Dixon, on the other hand, had a sharp jaw, a shit ton of lashes, and an easy smile.
“Ask what?” Caymen asked, popping the tab on his beer and taking a long swig.
“Your mom let you be named Caymen Cider?”
To that, Caymen snorted.
“Mom was probably hopped up on benzos my old man jacked from the hospital at the time and thought it was hilarious.”
Velle was going to have a lot of fun with that history.
I knocked my beer to his.
“Here’s to shitty moms. And shittier dads,” I said, having a set of those myself. Though I’d been careful not to divulge much of that to the club. Not even Velle with his all-seeing eyes.
Some shit was nobody’s business but my own.
“Have you two always wanted to be bikers?” I asked.
“We had a foster father once who had a bike. We all spent a lotta time cleaning it, tuning it up, going out on it. He was in a club. But the weekend warrior type. But he always said that joining a club was the best thing he ever did. That no matter what shit went down in life, knowing your brothers had your back helped you deal with it.”
“True enough.” I’d personally joined more for the partying and potential to do some crazy shit. Hell, the family aspect had been awkward and uncomfortable at first. But I’d been slowly but surely getting used to it. “Why’d it take so long to get here?”
“Necessity had us making our own way. Honestly, didn’t know you were out here. Probably would have made our way out this way sooner if we had. The grind has been getting old.”
“Different kind of grind here.”
“Heard all about the bitch work,” Caymen said, shooting me a small smirk before taking another sip of his drink. “We’re happy to earn our patches. Though, someone might have to teach Dixon how to work a dishwasher.”
“Eddie usually handles that.”
“Prospect?”
“Hangabout. He’s practically a brother. He’s here sometimes twice a day cooking for everyone.”
“No shit? Haven’t had a meal I didn’t buy or cook myself in a decade.”
“And you’ve never had anything like Eddie’s food.”
“What’s the club girl situation like?”
Least of all something that would send me running for our lives.
CHAPTER THREE
Coast
“I gotta ask,” I said, passing Caymen a beer as he stood looking at the empty pool.
The brothers had shown up just about a half an hour before, talking to Huck and the other OG guys for a while before being introduced to the rest of us.
There was a clear age gap between the two of them. Caymen, the older brother, had a solid eight or ten years on Dixon.
While both brothers were tall and fit, Caymen had that bulkier frame that came with age and more time in the gym. Both were also dark-haired and eyed, and sported various black and gray tattoos, but that was where the similarities ended.
Caymen had a wider jaw with a short beard, stern-looking brows, and a familiar dark look in his eyes.
Dixon, on the other hand, had a sharp jaw, a shit ton of lashes, and an easy smile.
“Ask what?” Caymen asked, popping the tab on his beer and taking a long swig.
“Your mom let you be named Caymen Cider?”
To that, Caymen snorted.
“Mom was probably hopped up on benzos my old man jacked from the hospital at the time and thought it was hilarious.”
Velle was going to have a lot of fun with that history.
I knocked my beer to his.
“Here’s to shitty moms. And shittier dads,” I said, having a set of those myself. Though I’d been careful not to divulge much of that to the club. Not even Velle with his all-seeing eyes.
Some shit was nobody’s business but my own.
“Have you two always wanted to be bikers?” I asked.
“We had a foster father once who had a bike. We all spent a lotta time cleaning it, tuning it up, going out on it. He was in a club. But the weekend warrior type. But he always said that joining a club was the best thing he ever did. That no matter what shit went down in life, knowing your brothers had your back helped you deal with it.”
“True enough.” I’d personally joined more for the partying and potential to do some crazy shit. Hell, the family aspect had been awkward and uncomfortable at first. But I’d been slowly but surely getting used to it. “Why’d it take so long to get here?”
“Necessity had us making our own way. Honestly, didn’t know you were out here. Probably would have made our way out this way sooner if we had. The grind has been getting old.”
“Different kind of grind here.”
“Heard all about the bitch work,” Caymen said, shooting me a small smirk before taking another sip of his drink. “We’re happy to earn our patches. Though, someone might have to teach Dixon how to work a dishwasher.”
“Eddie usually handles that.”
“Prospect?”
“Hangabout. He’s practically a brother. He’s here sometimes twice a day cooking for everyone.”
“No shit? Haven’t had a meal I didn’t buy or cook myself in a decade.”
“And you’ve never had anything like Eddie’s food.”
“What’s the club girl situation like?”
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