Page 11 of Gator (Bourbon Kings MC #1)
Three days later...
God save me!
I’d never been so fucking happy to see my bar. Walking in, I felt a sense of relief wash over me as I headed straight for the bar.
“Where ya been, boss?” Juju asked, placing a bottle of Hell’s Breath before me. Ignoring the man, I brought the bottle to my lips and chugged, drinking half the contents before I slammed it down on the bar.
“Never claim a woman, Juju. They’re nuttin’ but trouble and the biggest pains in the ass.”
My VP chuckled. “Road trip didn’t go well?”
I grunted, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. “Let’s just say it didn’t end with roses and rainbows. Damn near lost my sanity, Juju.”
He leaned his elbows on the bar, smirking in that lazy way of his. “Sanity’s overrated, boss. Now, ya got the good stuff right here. That bottle’s the only lady who won’t argue back.”
I snorted, leaning back on the stool as the familiar hum of the bar settled around me. The sound of laughter, clinking glasses, and the faint thrum of music were like a balm to my frayed nerves. This place, my haven, was the only thing that kept me grounded.
“Trust me, Juju,” I muttered, swirling the bottle in my hand. “Next time, I’m sticking to the road and keeping my eyes on the horizon. No more distractions.”
A loud crash erupted from the entrance of the bar, followed by a burst of cursing that made Juju straighten with a grin. “Speaking of trouble, looks like it found you again.”
“YOU LOW DOWN DIRTY ROTTEN CAJUN!”
Swiveling in my seat, I smiled at the irate woman glaring at me. “Ah, there you are, Chèr !”
“Shut it, asshole,” my woman huffed, kicking one of her bags across the floor as my brothers all stood frozen, afraid to move.
I didn’t blame them.
My woman was scary on a good day.
“Better brace yourself, boss. Hurricane Devlyn just made landfall.”
I sighed, setting the bottle down and standing slowly, as if any sudden movements might provoke her further. “You got here faster than I thought, Chèr . Didn’t think I’d see you’d this side of the Mississippi till tomorrow.”
She crossed her arms, her fiery gaze practically singeing my skin. “You think you can just leave me stranded in the middle of nowhere with no cell service, and I’d let it slide? You’ve got another thing coming, asshole.”
The room grew quieter, the laughter and chatter fading as everyone watched the drama unfold. My brothers exchanged wary glances, clearly debating whether to intervene or make a run for it. Juju, on the other hand, looked like he was settling in for prime entertainment.
“ Chèr , I didn’t leave you stranded,” I began, keeping my tone calm despite the storm brewing in her eyes. “You said you wanted space, so I gave you space.”
“Space!” she snapped, taking a step closer. “I wanted a little time to think, not to be marooned like Robinson Crusoe!”
“Sounds like a miscommunication,” Juju chimed in, earning a glare from both of us. He raised his hands in mock surrender, his smirk firmly in place. “Don’ mind me, just enjoyin’ the show.”
I couldn’t help but chuckle, despite the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. My woman could rattle my nerves and still make me laugh in the same breath.
She jabbed a finger into my chest, her voice lowering to a dangerous whisper that carried more weight than a shout ever could. “Next time you decide to interpret what I say, maybe try not to rewrite the whole damn novel.”
“Point taken,” I said, holding up my hands in a gesture of surrender. “But you’re here now, and I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right.”
The tension in the room was palpable, like the air before a summer storm, heavy with the promise of chaos.
Juju shook his head, a grin playing on his lips as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a small pouch and shook it as the rhythmic jingle caught everyone’s attention. “Told ya, boss. The bones never lie.”
Sometime later, I lazily walked down the stairs as the sounds of Cajun music surrounded me.
The bar was hopping with tourists as my brothers worked hard to ensure they had fond memories of New Orleans.
The familiar scent of beignets and chicory coffee hung heavy in the air, a comforting counterpoint to the lively chaos.
After snagging a bottle of whiskey, I found a quiet corner and watched the scene unfold.
A vibrant tapestry of laughter, clinking glasses, and the hypnotic rhythm of the bayou surrounded my bar as everyone enjoyed their time in the Big Easy.
But as much as I wanted to enjoy the atmosphere, all I could think about was the woman upstairs in my bed. The angry and very pregnant woman who, before I left, threatened to take my balls and serve them up in a gumbo.
Funny thing was... I believed her.
The music carried me, a balm for my frayed nerves, but even the spirited notes couldn’t drown out the thoughts swirling in my head.
Devlyn Never had always been a force to be reckoned with—a tempest that swept through my life and left nothing untouched.
I knew how stubborn she could be, how fiercely she held onto her convictions, and yet, there was something in her fire that drew me like a moth to a flame.
I swirled the whiskey in my glass as Juju sauntered over, his signature grin as cocky as ever. “Man, you look like you’ve seen the Devil himself.”
“Maybe I have,” I muttered, taking a sip. “She’s upstairs, plotting how to serve me up Cajun-style.”
Juju chuckled, the kind of deep belly laugh that could disarm anyone. “Woman won’t kill ya, Gator. She loves ya too much for that. But I wouldn’t test her patience. She’s got a mean side.”
I raised my glass in a mock toast. “Words of wisdom from the man who swears by rattling bones and whispering to spirits.”
Juju shrugged, his grin widening. “Don’t knock it till ya try it.”
The sound of boots on wood signaled the approach of one of my brothers. Thore appeared, his imposing figure cutting through the lively crowd. He gave me a nod before taking the seat beside me. “Boss, the shipment came in. All’s good on that front.”
I acknowledged him with a brief nod, grateful for the smooth operation but far too consumed by my own predicament to celebrate. “Thanks, man. Keep an eye on things.”
“Will do.” He hesitated, his brows furrowed. “Everything okay with the devil woman?”
I sighed, the weight of impending chaos pressing down on me. “She’s mad. No—furious. But she’s here, and that’s what matters.”
Thore slapped me on the shoulder, his expression one of camaraderie and reassurance. “She’ll come around. Women like her—they don’t stay mad long.”
Juju interjected, his grin sly. “Unless you give them reason to. You sure you ain’t poked the bear one too many times, boss?”
The laughter that followed tugged a smile out of me, despite the storm clouds hanging over my head.
My brothers knew how to lighten my mood, and tonight, I needed their antics as much as I needed the whiskey in my glass.
The night stretched ahead, full of revelry and the kind of chaos only New Orleans could deliver.
But the real battle awaited me upstairs, and I wasn’t sure if I was ready to face it.
Or the fact that I was going to be a father.
Yeah, I still hadn’t wrapped my head around that one.
Me, a father!
The thought spiraled, pulling at my focus as I swirled the amber liquid in my glass.
Fatherhood. It was a word that felt foreign, distant, yet here it was, staring me down like a challenge I wasn’t sure I could meet.
The haunting melody from the corner of the bar didn’t help—it was as if the saxophone player had peeled back my defenses, letting my emotions flow unrestrained.
“Boss, you’re thinking too hard,” Juju said, leaning back with his ever-present grin, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the table. “You got this.”
I wanted to believe him. Hell, I needed to believe him.
But the weight of the unknown bore down on me, heavier than the responsibility of running this club.
It wasn’t the logistics—I could handle diapers and midnight cries—but the emotional part?
Being the rock this child would need? That was a different beast entirely.
Thore glanced at me, his sharp gaze cutting through the haze of my thoughts. “She’s got fire, that woman. And you’ve got grit. Between the two of you, you’ll make it work.”
I nodded, though the confidence didn’t quite sink in. Upstairs lay more than just the future mother of my child; there lay the crossroads of my life. And I wasn’t sure which path I’d choose—or if I could stand on either without falling.
The surrounding laughter faded into the background as I stared into my drink.
They were my brothers, always there to lift me up, but this?
This was a journey I’d have to walk alone, at least for the hard parts.
The club could watch my back, but no one could teach me how to be a father. Not Skeeter Crawley, not anyone.
With a deep breath, I pushed to my feet; the chair scraping against the floor as I did. “Stay on top of things. I’ll be back.”
Juju raised an eyebrow, his grin never faltering. “Facing the beast already?”
“Something like that,” I muttered, making my way toward the stairs. The Bourbon Bar hummed behind me, a sanctuary I’d built with my own hands. But tonight, it felt like just another stage in a play where I didn’t quite know my lines.
Each step upward echoed with the weight of decisions yet to be made, and I paused before the door, the muffled sounds of the city seeping in through the walls. Whatever awaited me in that room, I knew it would change me. Forever.