Page 4 of Defended by Bama (Royal Bastards MC: Mobile, Alabama #1)

Bama

“Hey man,” I said as I found Hammer at the bar. “Bloody Mary?” I asked, looking at his drink.

“Fuck yeah. Partied hard last night,” he said as he poked at the toast on his plate.

I leaned against the bar, crossing my arms over my chest. Looking around, I made sure nobody else could hear me. “Listen man. I know it was a party, but we don’t need to get too comfortable.”

Hammer scowled. “What the fuck does that mean? It was a party.”

“I know. And you’re the prez, but just because Jameson hasn’t been out here in a while doesn’t mean we can get sloppy.”

When we were getting established, Jameson and some of his crew had been in and out regularly. During that time, Hammer was all business. But the past couple of months, he was partying more than running things.

“I am the president and there’s nothing wrong with a little fun from time to time,” he said before taking a long sip of his red drink.

“Right. But last night we had prospects here for hours and you were nowhere to be found. We don’t know if these punks are plants or what.”

“Good thing you were here, then. I heard you partied a little, too.”

“I had a round with Glenda. But then we came back down and parted ways.” She was nothing more than someone to take the edge off.

But I never got the sense she was looking for more from me, either.

But she wasn’t like the club ass. She didn’t like to put on a show and didn’t like extra players.

Our arrangement, if you’d even call it that, worked out good for us both.

“I’d hoped you’d make your way back down so I could tell you about Benny. ”

He finished chewing a bite of toast, then asked, “How’s our old buddy?”

“He pulled some shit. Tried to slash our prices at the last minute.”

Hammer finally looked up, his brown irises surrounded by redness. “That little shit. What’d you do?”

“We handled it, and now he’s paying a premium. But I have concerns as to why he thought he could haggle,” I said.

Hammer gripped my shoulder, sighing. “Look, man. I hear you. Maybe I did get carried away a few times. I’ll keep the hardcore partying to closed events, alright?”

Staring for a few beats, I said, “I’m not your momma. But if shit goes down, we all need to be ready.”

He grinned, a slight chuckle coming from his chest. “You’re right, brother. I’m just living it up. But if we got buyers trying to renegotiate it’s time to buckle down, and what is it they say? Shit rolls downhill or something?”

“Something like that. Hey, I’m running to Georgia. Be back tomorrow night sometime,” I told him.

He stiffened just a bit. “Oh yeah. Business or pleasure?”

“Dropping some stuff off with Allie. Hang out a bit and make sure she’s good.”

I watched as he ate, not looking at me again.

“I know I’ve asked before, but are you sure nothing happened with her?”

Still not looking up, instead shoveling eggs onto his fork, he answered, “I told you a million times. I did what you asked and checked on her a few times. She was good, that was it. End of story.” He then shoved the food in his mouth, shaking his head.

I didn’t buy it, especially since Allie was just as defensive every time I brought it up. It didn’t matter, I just didn’t like the idea that Allie and my long-time friend and club brother were keeping anything from me.

After a short drive to my little house, I parked and ran inside.

I had a room at the clubhouse but I had to come by and grab a few things so I showered at home.

We didn’t have an official clubhouse when I first moved down, and the place we were using was cramped and musty.

I was able to drum up enough money to rent this place, but Hammer helped make a deal for it, so now it was mine.

It wasn’t much, but it was enough for me. It was also in a part of town that didn’t hold up well after a few massive hurricanes, so there weren’t any close neighbors. The ones nearest to me weren’t the type to call the cops or bother me.

The house was old as hell, with two bedrooms, one bathroom, a kitchen, a living room, and a small, partially covered back porch.

I’d done a few updates since I’d been here and while it wasn’t fancy, it was mine.

I spent a lot of time at the clubhouse, but it was nice to have a place to get some peace and quiet.

I was grabbing a change of clothes when my phone went off.

Allie : Hey, have you left yet?

Me : Was just about to hit the road. You ok?

Allie : Can you bring the truck?

Me : We moving something?

Allie : :-)

She probably bought a couch or something off an app.

She loved a good deal and constantly changed her furniture.

But I’d rather her have me do it than her go alone or have someone deliver to her.

Fuckers were crazy these days and she didn’t need to be giving her address out to strangers on the internet.

I locked up the house, tossed my bag into my black ‘84 F150, then rolled my Harley into my detached garage and secured it as well.

As a kid, we had a neighbor with older cars and he had a classic F150.

I always wanted one, so when I started making some real money, Allie found one for me online for a steal.

It needed some work, but we had a body and mechanic shop and some of the brothers worked on it for me.

In no time at all, they had her like new.

I’d come to love my Harley, but the truck was special.

My small time dealing back home was a constant hustle and looking back, wasn’t worth the risk and the trips behind bars.

We had things in place to avoid issues with the boys in blue now, but even if I was caught by one that we didn’t have in our pocket, at least it would be worth it. This life was different. Better.

***

After several hours of driving, I finally pulled up at Allie’s. She had a place similar to mine, just back in Georgia and she had a few neighbors but still not close enough to hear your TV when it was loud. I was parked, checking my cell when she came out.

“You gonna just sit in the truck all night or you coming inside?”

Looking over, I didn’t answer and grabbed the handle to roll my window up. She rolled her eyes and stepped back so I could open the door. Grabbing my bag, I stepped out and put my free arm over her shoulders. “Good to see you, too. When we getting whatever it is you needed the truck for?”

“Oh, a while. Come in and take a load off.”

Once inside, I dropped my bag on the kitchen table and plopped across her navy blue couch, my legs hanging over. “I hope you’re getting rid of this. It’s not comfortable at all.”

“Fuck you. I love that couch,” she said as she brought me a beer. “How was the ride?”

“Good. So what time we have to make this pickup? I’m fucking starving.”

She sipped her beer, then said, “I’ll order some food. I’m not sure yet so I don’t want to be stuck at a restaurant.”

Running my hand down my face, I told her, “Whatever, I’m just getting hangry.”

“The pizza place is fast as fuck.” She grabbed her phone and called in for a supreme pizza, wings, and breadsticks.

She stood up, so I said, “Hey, grab my bag, will ya?”

Allie picked up the duffle and tossed it to me before walking down the hall. I pulled out her package and tossed it on the coffee table.

She walked back in and looked down, grabbing it. “Let me put this away.”

I called after her, “I wish you’d stop that shit.”

“And I want a million dollars,” she called back from down the hall.

Once she came back, I said, “You don’t need to do that anymore.”

“Can’t a girl have a purpose?” she asked as she plopped into her beige, oversized chair.

Rolling my eyes, I answered, “I don’t think your purpose is to be a drug dealer. You’re good. Hell, if you would just come down–”

“Nope.” She shook head, her messy bun bouncing around. “Not doing this again, Bama. Let it go. I’m not moving to Mobile.” She grabbed the remote and turned the TV on.

We waited silently for food and ate just as quietly once it arrived.

We sat next to each other on the uncomfortable couch and used the coffee table for our food and drinks.

When I was done, I was helping put the leftovers away and noticed the time.

“Hey, it’s getting close to eight. Sun goes down soon. We getting this shit or not?”

I didn’t want to roll up late so someone could try to rob us… try being the operative word. After dealing for years and now working with shady fuckers all the time, I learned that just because you’re paranoid doesn’t mean you’re wrong.

“Hold your fucking dick, Bama!” Allie shouted from the living room.

Stepping out of the kitchen and back to the living room, I stood with my arms crossed. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?”

“Nothing. I just don’t have the details.” She didn’t look up from the TV.

Moving to the couch, I sat next to her. “Hey, are you in trouble or something? You can tell me. I gotchu, sis.”

Her shoulders relaxed, and she grabbed my hand. “I’m not in trouble. But remember when a few of your brothers had come out a few months back?”

My brow furrowed. “Yeah. One of them fuck with you? I’ll deal with them. They know better. Who was it?” I’d kill him.

She shook her head. “No, no, no. I just heard them talking about something called Royal or something.”

My brow furrowed. “Like, the Royal Bastards? I’m not following.”

She rolled her eyes again. If what adults said to kids were true, they would have stuck like that a long fucking time ago. “No, it stood for something. I can’t remember. Anyway, it was something they did to help women escape abusers, change their identity and shit.”

“Oh, yeah. Rogers’ cousin up in Ontario mentioned something when we were up that way. Why?” I shot to my feet. “Who the fuck hurt you? You don’t need to change shit. I’ll fucking handle it.” Staring down, my muscles shaking as adrenaline pumped through me, I waited for her to say something.

“Bama, seriously, do you think I wouldn’t immediately call you if something happened to me? Get real. I’m fine. Nobody did shit to me.”

“Then what the fuck are you going on about, Allie?” My hands raised in the universal what-the-fuck fashion.

She opened her mouth, but before she said anything a small knock on the door interrupted.

My hand went to my piece, but she jumped up, shoved me out of the way, and went to the door.

“Oh, hey,” she said. “C’mon in. Hey, you.”

Still waiting to see who she just invited in, I backed down when I saw a little blonde girl peeking around her legs. But when I looked up to see who she came with, my jaw tightened.

A woman with bright blue eyes and light brown hair pulled into a ponytail stepped inside, and Allie stood with her.

She held a bag in one hand and the little girl’s hand in the other.

But that wasn’t what had my blood boiling.

Her face was fucked. Busted lip, black eye, bruises up her arms, and marks on her neck from fingers squeezing.

“Shit, I mean, damn. I mean…Allie, can I speak to you back there?” I asked, pointing to the back room.

Allie looked at the guests. “Y’all take a seat. I’ll be right back.”

The woman and the girl didn’t sit, and the woman pulled the girl closer as we walked down the hall.

Allie shut the door to the extra room and I put my hands on my hips. “What the fuck happened to her. Wait, no,” I said as I swiped my hand through the air. “Who the fuck are they?”

“I’d seen her before at the library and always thought she was being beaten, but I’d never seen her face like that.”

“You go to the library?” I asked.

“You’re such a dick.” She waved her hands around.

“That doesn’t matter. What matters is I was meeting a client at a gas station last night, a little later than now, and I saw her.

It was fresh last night. I tried to get her to come with me then but she was nervous and said she couldn’t leave the car. ”

“Okay, so what the fuck is she doing here?”

“She needs a new identity. Her and her kid.”

Fuck .