Page 73 of Indie

I stepped back, the sudden pang of rage making my fists twitch. I’d never been keen on the woman when Demon first brought her to the club, and even less so when she moved onto my father when Demon dumped her. None of us had expected it to last, but a leach like Tori wasn’t going to go away easily and somehow my dad had become besotted with her. I would never hit a woman. Never. And never the old lady of the President of the club. But my fucking God, if this woman didn’t push my limits.

“Ok, whatever. We’ll set him up in his usual room.”

“Good. Oh, and Indie?”

“Yes?”

“He wants to go to the Howl.”

“What?

“Yeah. This weekend. Reckons it’ll be his last rally, and he wants to be there, Indie. Reckon I could get him there in the car. Don’t think he’ll be able to ride his bike. But at least he’ll be able to go.”

“Fucking hell.”

“Well, what do you think?”

“I think it’s a crazy fucking idea.” I swiped my hand across my face. A cold rally in the middle of Northumberland was no place for a dying man. But then, maybe that’s what his thinking was, anyway.

“It’s his last wishes, Indie.”

“Yeah, I bet it is. If the fucker snuffs it in a tent, I’m not tying his dead body on the back of my bike to get him home. You’ll be bringing him back in the car, understand?”

“Roger,” she answered, touching her hand to her forehead in mock salute. “Thanks, Indie. I appreciate it.”

“Yeah, whatever. Now, if you don’t mind, I’ve got some kids to get to school.”

“Someone’s got you wrapped round her little finger, huh? Got you playing the part of daddy already, she has. Is that what she calls you, Daddy? You’re old enough to be hers.”

I didn’t need to say the words ‘fuck off’. She could see them in my face when I turned and walked towards her, the limits she was pushing against becoming more and more frayed. And whatever I felt inside must have been displayed all over my face, because she threw her cup onto the nearest table and bolted out of the door.

*****

“How’s Emmie’s house looking?” I asked the men sat around the table.

“It’s secure. We’ve put an alarm system in. We paying out of club funds for that?” Fury asked.

“Yeah, mate. I’ll get you some money.”

“Do we not get to vote on that, Indie? Just we don’t even know this woman and her kids, and now you want to go spending club monies on her.”

The table went silent, an energised hush, and all faces turned to stare at the bald-headed, Beanz.

“Actually, you’re right. We should take a vote,” I answered, anger straining in my veins. “As part of Beanz’s punishment for losing his cut…”

“I didn’tloseit. Some fucker stole it.”

“For the punishment of not realising weeks ago that his cut had been stolen when his house was broken into. Shows how much riding you been doing lately,” I added, watching the man across the table frown at me. “I put it to the brothers that he will pay the sum of…how much was it, Fury?”

“Five hundred, mate. Parts and labour.”

“Ok. Five hundred pound fine.”

“But I’ve already paid the price,” Beanz whined, blinking a few times as the fat, black eye on the left hand-side of his face watered.

“Votes?” I charged on, ignoring the protest. “All in favour.”

All but one person held their hands in the air.