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VIRUS

“Yo, ?”

“What’s up, Heidi?”

“We need some technical support. You got a sec?”

Looking up, he spotted Heidi with laptop in hand and Nova by her side. However, it was Devin trailing behind them, laughing her ass off, that gave him pause.

“Depends. Does it involve me in any capacity other than technical support?” The question was directed more toward Nova instead. She liked to needle him for the fucking sport of it.

“Nope,” she answered, but turned toward Devin with the devil in her eyes.

When Hook’s ol’ lady and Prez’s ol’ lady got together, it was trouble with a capital T. But when they teamed up with Croon’s sister, well, that spelled big fucking trouble in all caps with extraneous exclamation points.

Heidi plopped down next to him on the sofa and handed over the laptop, while Nova and Devin shared the love seat chair across from them.

“We posted a video of Croon on that one app, and it went viral.”

That explained why Devin was involved with such glee. While Nova never missed a chance to razz him, Devin never tired of ribbing her brother. Between the two of them, they’d been the victims of Devin or Nova’s extortion more times than he could count. Do this or that for us or we’ll post this.

Croon’s relationship with his sister has been rocky since she’d arrived from Nebraska under less-than-ideal circumstances. For a while, was convinced Hook had a thing for her, but it turned out they were just friends. He did notice another brother who was all gooey-eyed over her for real, but not his circus, not his cryptid, or however the saying went.

He could only hope that they worked out their sibling shit before it spread out and impacted the club.

“Turns out, the ladies of the world are more pervy than men. Go figure,” Nova remarked.

“Especially in the romance book community,” Devin added. She read those things like they were going out of style. Since she arrived, Zombie had to make a new rule about her leaving her books lying around. There were shirtless men on damn near every surface of their clubhouse and attached businesses.

shuddered.

“We’re a fucking MC, not a Desperate Housewives of Provo book club, damn it,” Zombie had said as he tossed a handful of the books in question across the table toward Croon during a recent come to Jesus. “Get your sister under control or I’ll bust you back to prospect and see how much shit you can take before you tuck tail and run.” It was an empty threat. Zombie wasn’t an asshole, but it worked … somewhat.

Nova’s laughter drew his attention back. “Yeah, some of the things in the comments about what they’d let Croon, and the other guys, do to them are illegal in at least eight countries.”

“Umhm,” Heidi agreed. “If I tell Zom the offers he’s gotten, he may just beg to add a third or a fourth to our relationship. If he tried that, I’d have to castrate him, and nobody wants that.”

Santa and Outlaw were shooting pool behind the ladies on the love seat, and both made different protective maneuvers as if imagining being castrated.

“Damn, woman. You got a vicious streak,” Santa said after he recovered. “I like it.” He winked.

Santa was harmless when it came to Zombie’s ol’ lady, but he was an unapologetic flirt and the ladies always ate that shit up with a spoon.

“You got game, old man, but you better watch who you’re running lines on,” Outlaw scolded with zero heat.

“Who are you calling old man, you fucking bottom-feeder? Old my ass, I’ll show you old.” He only had a decade on the youngest of the guys at most, but everyone likes to remind him of that.

“That’s VP bottom-feeder to you, old man. You’re just still salty because if it wasn’t for me, you’d be running your lines in cell block C for the biggest, ugliest motherfucker in there.”

The ladies had turned away from their problem at hand to watch the exchange happening at the pool table.

Santa stuck out his tongue like a petulant child and laid the pool cue on the felt.

“You’re just jealous because I’ve got three inches on you in the way that counts most.” Santa grabbed his crotch in case anyone watching didn’t understand his reference. “Not to mention with all the cold-ass shark blood running through your veins, you probably can’t even get it up, can you, counselor ?”

“As far as inches go, you must be talking about height because you damn sure don’t have it in your pants.”

Outlaw dropped his cue next to Santa’s and reached into his wallet. He pulled out a couple of bills, then slapped them on the felt.

“Put your money where your mouth is, old man .” He put a hard emphasis on the last two words.

“Fuck yeah, I could use the scratch.” When Santa tossed his money down next to Outlaw’s, Sherry stepped up and trailed her finger down his arm.

“You boys wanna follow me and we can settle this?”

They didn’t need any more encouragement than that. The three of them headed toward the rooms.

It wasn’t the first time and it damn sure wouldn’t be the last time brothers shared, nor the last time measurements would be taken and bragged about for weeks to come.

What struck as wholly out of place was when Heidi turned back around—she was smiling . Actually smiling … about Sherry.

She and Sherry had a rocky start, to say the least. The club chick had tried to come between Zombie and Heidi, damn near succeeded too. The club voted to send her packing but gave Heidi the final say. Heidi opted to keep her around and made her pay for the deception. Smart move on her part. As the Prez’s ol’ lady, she needed to establish her place if she wanted to earn everyone’s respect.

She’d damn sure done that, in spades.

Heidi gave him a puzzled look. “What?”

“What do you mean what?”

He gestured to her face, then down the hall.

“Soooo?”

“We’re good. She knows her place and we’ve come to an understanding.” She tapped the laptop. “Now, back to the problem at hand.”

Understanding was an understatement. They looked almost like friends, but was not about to mine for more info. Every time he did so with one of the ladies, they dug back, and he had a lot that he’d rather keep buried, thank-you-very-much.

“Okay, viral video, so what’s the problem?”

“I’m trying to add it to the club site and leave it linked to the original post. But when I try, it only shows the link and I want visitors to be able to play the video from the app on site. Not a video I upload, but directly play that one. Does that make sense?”

“Yeah, I can fix it, but it’ll cost you.”

They all narrowed their eyes at him with similar expressions. If he didn’t know better, he’d wonder if they’d known each other for years. They blended better than anyone could’ve predicted.

“What?” they said in unison.

“Nothing too steep, just a promise of no videos of me on the site or social media for a year.”

“Six months?” Nova countered.

“Ten.”

“, you are the second favorite Bastard online,” Devin whined.

“Behind who?” Did he really care if he wasn’t the most popular? Maybe just a touch.

Heidi made a locking motion on her mouth and tossed the key.

“How about eight of nothing and an additional two of only cool pics or vids—nothing embarrassing?”

It was hard negotiating three to one, because the ladies would pack up like feral raccoons and their target was a tasty snack, but he was determined to win this one, damn it.

“Seven of nothing, two of cool, plus you tell me who’s ahead of me, and your link is as good as done.”

The ol’ ladies and Devin put their heads together like they are conferring in a courtroom. They must’ve learned that from Outlaw.

“Done,” Devin announced gleefully.

A few taps of the keyboard and bingo-bango, problem solved. He handed the laptop over to Heidi.

“Who?”

“Well, that’s my cue to skedaddle,” Nova said. “I gotta grab June from school for an appointment.” She left, and Heidi stood to follow.

“Who?” he called after her.

“For the past two months, that would be Santa. All the ladies want to sit on his lap.” She giggled. “Thanks Vi .”

He hated the nickname, but he adored his president’s ol’ lady, so he let it slide.

“You’re welcome, Hi .”

The back-and-forth between them reminded him of someone else he had an easy-going relationship with once upon a time, and his mind started slipping back to the past.

Devin, who had yet to rise, must’ve noticed his contemplativeness because she got up and sat on the coffee table directly in front of him. So close it would’ve been intimate if they had anything other than platonic affection for each other. She really needed to learn the concept of personal space.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

“Sweetheart, they aren’t worth a fucking penny.”

“They have to be worth a hell of a lot more to have you looking like that.” She gestured to his face.

“Like what?”

“Like someone just stole your puppy, your shiny balloon just floated into the sky, and you dropped the top scoop of your cone all at the same time.”

He may or may not have felt a bit defensive about her assessment of his look .

“I don’t want a dog, I hate fucking balloons, and I’m lactose intolerant.” crossed his arms like he’d just won the war, and leaned back into the couch cushion, but Devin was relentless.

“First off, everyone wants a dog, so whatever.” She adopted his victorious look somewhat. “Then it has to be a woman, so spill.”

avoided talking about her . Partly because she was and will always be the love of his life, but mostly because he was the one who’d fucked it all to hell and back.

“Just someone I knew a long time ago that crosses my mind more often than not. But especially on this date,” trailed off, not really wanting to admit any more. He hated that he’d said as much as he had. Pouring himself another whiskey, he downed it with gusto.

“What’s today?” Devin’s voice was gentle and concerned. He answered the best he could without sharing his shame.

“The day the old me died, but at her expense.” Yeah, it was cryptic as hell, but there wasn’t any other way he could be.

His new family, his Bastards family, only know the current version of him. He had their respect. If they knew what he’d done, especially the ol’ ladies, he’d lose that and so much more. Devin damn sure wouldn’t sit there all concerned for him. More likely, she’d kick him in the balls every time they crossed paths.

“Any hope of a reconciliation?” she asked as she stood.

“No.” Another drink down.

“Is she still alive?”

looked up at her and it dawned on him that she thought he’d killed her.

“No. Nothing like that, jeez.” His voice held a bit of horror mixed with some what the hell . “More like I’m dead to her.”

Devin bent down, bringing them eye to eye. Her face held no judgment, only love.

“As long as you’re both still breathing, there’s always hope.” With that, she kissed him on the forehead, more like a mom than a sister figure, and left.

Devin was Croon’s sister by blood, but since she’d arrived, she’d become like a sister to all of them. Well, he suspected one brother had zero sisterly thoughts toward her, but that was his business.

It wasn’t just Devin, Heidi had become like a little sister to them too, ever since they rescued her from the trunk of a car and she fell hard for their Prez. Same with Nova for that matter, and her little girl, June.

That one would never get to date before she could collect retirement and maybe not even then. She basically had one scary dad, and a full club of badass uncles wrapped around her finger that would kill to protect her. Just as they’d kill or die for their brothers and the ol’ ladies.

That line of thinking punched him in the gut. His first thought was how it would be the same with his Sun Rae and she’d love the hell out of Heidi, Nova, and June. But especially Devin, they would be thick as thieves, he just knew they would.

She wasn’t his anything—not anymore.

“Fuck,” he shouted and scrubbed his hands down his face. Gwen sauntered up to him, swiping his glass off the table, filling it up and handing it to him. He slammed it back. She immediately went to her knees, hands working his buckle.

As tempting as getting his balls drained sounded, he wasn’t rising to the occasion. He never did on that particular day or even the months surrounding it.

Sure, he’d had sex since Rae, but he had to drink and smoke to quiet her pain that he could still hear. It was never anything more than a physical need … hollow. It was simple as that.

“Get up, sweetheart. I appreciate the offer, but I’m not in the mood.” That was all he had to say, and she backed off. Sherry would’ve kept pushing, but Gwen never did.

Besides, he’d developed a reputation for being selfish in the bedroom, so she was probably relieved. He’d heard the whispers about his performance. Even the guys razzed the fuck out of him over it, but it was what it was. Nothing could change the past. deserved whatever was said about him.

It seemed over the years, he could drink enough to get off, but it was a rare occasion when he could smoke enough to go above and beyond with anyone in bed and put in the effort to get them off. That’s why he stuck to club girls, no expectations beyond the benefits the club offered the regulars.

If he were honest with himself, it was because he felt he owed it to her not to pleasure another woman. It destroyed Rae when she caught him face down in a snatch that didn’t belong to her. Cries of pleasure that came from another woman still haunted him, so no, he just couldn’t bring himself to do it.