Page 18

CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

Brick

Once the storm finally clears, I get the rest of Rayleigh’s things and move them to the clubhouse. Seeing her putting her things away, makes my chest tight. I like the fact her clothes now line one side of my closet, and that she’s organized the bathroom, so all of our things are neatly stored. Of course, it could have to do with the fact I opened up my phone and told her to shop, but I would’ve never thought of hanging up shelves to free up some space. I chuckle when I spy the placemat she bought to set the cats’ food and water fountain on as it has skeletal fishes on it, along with ‘Yum Yum’.

“You guys sure are spoiled,” I state, looking at the two kittens passed out on the top of the cat tree I wrangled from her apartment into my suite. It’s rather massive, so it actually took me, Brew, and Phantom to get it. At first, I was alarmed when I saw the small kittens racing up and down without a care in the world, but she assured me they would be okay.

We’ve settled into a routine; one I’m growing to love. Mornings have us showering together after a very enjoyable wake up. Sometimes, she initiates it, other times, I do. After we get cleaned up and ready for the day, we eat breakfast then she rides into town with Brew. Once the weather is nicer, I’ll be taking her on the back of my bike because there’s no way she’s riding on his. She cleans both places, then one of the brothers who’s in town brings her back to the clubhouse. Right now, she’s in the kitchen trying out a new recipe. From the smell permeating the clubhouse, I think it’s going to be a hit. Too bad everyone’s going to have to wait until tomorrow, which is Thanksgiving.

When I brought it up at Church that she’d never really celebrated any of the holidays and what I wanted to do moving forward, all of the brothers were in favor. Hell, I even texted Banshee to get his thoughts since one of the reasons we stopped doing anything big for either Thanksgiving or Christmas, letting the brothers do their own thing, was because of his sister’s and parents’ deaths.

His use of multiple thumbs-up emojis let me know he was ready to embrace whatever the future held for our club. While he and Rooster won’t be here, at least until mid-December, I did bring my dad, RiffRaff, and his day nurse to the clubhouse. He’s typically not all that lucid, but when I realized he seems to do much better around all of us, I took it to a vote and we decided as a club that as long as he’s still around, he’s going to be here. Right now, while I get one of the guest cabins closest to the clubhouse reconfigured to handle his wheelchair, he’s ensconced in one of the rooms with the day nurse the club hired in the room next to his. We’ve had a few hiccups since getting him here, especially when he saw Rayleigh for the first time, but other than that, he’s in his element.

Jameson even called and gave me permission to have a new cut made for him signifying him as a Royal Bastard, although trying to get him to switch was an exercise in fruition. He likes the new cut but said as the President of the Roanoke Raiders, he couldn’t turn his back on his brothers. Like I told Jameson, he’s living in the past, but despite only being here a week, I can already see so much improvement. Jameson had no issues with him wearing the old cut, which is a good thing because I don’t want to disrespect my National President or the club, we’re now a part of, but when it comes to my pops, I’ll go toe to toe with anyone I have to, even Grim’s Reapers.

“You two realize when she starts decorating for Christmas, it’s going to look like the place has been attacked by elves, right?” I ask the two kittens. She’s already started another list of things she wants to buy them for gifts, which has me snorting in disbelief. Gifts for animals. Snapping my fingers, I realize I need to get busy so she has one of the best days of her life.

Aggravatingly, Hawg still has no more information than we previously had where it pertains to Rayleigh’s past, which is a sore spot for not only her, but me as well. He’s even got some of his IT brethren from some of the other chapters working their magic but so far, nothing.

Sighing, I glance around the room to make sure I’ve got everything I need, then head to the common room to see what I need to take care of in preparation for the next day. I’m sure Rayleigh has a list of some sort which I can look at, so she won’t work herself to the fucking bone. She’s so fucking excited, I want her to enjoy herself as well.

“Pres!” Arrow exclaims, holding up some kind of gooey pastry. “Your ol’ lady sure knows how to bake! Between her and the club whores, I think we may need to invest in a gym because we’re all gonna get fat as fuck otherwise.”

I snort out a laugh when I hear other brothers agreeing with him. “If you’d get off your lazy asses once in a while, it wouldn’t be an issue. Just because the weather’s been shitty doesn’t mean you can’t do stuff, fuckers.”

“Hard to do anything when there’s five feet of snow on the ground, Pres,” Phantom chimes in. “Your ol’ lady has this place spic and span, the club whores seem to have stepped up their game since Leathyr was put in charge, and we still have no Prospects to help with the other shit. Nothing’s open in town, either, so there’s that to consider.”

“In my day, it didn’t matter if there was twenty feet of snow on the ground, we took care of business,” my dad rasps out, eating his own pastry, which looks like a giant cinnamon roll. “As President, I’m ordering y’all to get your lazy asses up and get the grounds cleared.”

Instead of pushing back seeing as he hasn’t been their President in nearly a decade, I watch my brothers stand, grab their empty plates, mugs, or bottles, then after tossing them in the trash can that mysteriously showed up one afternoon, shrug on warmer coats then head out the front door. “Pops,” I say, “it’s fucking colder than a witch’s tit in Antarctica.”

I’m actually taken aback by how they behaved if I’m being honest because he just told a group of hardened killers to get off their asses and do something. It’s a testament to how they are with my pops, I guess, which has me smiling.

“Builds character, Brick,” he replies. “You gotta stay tough if you ever want to take over the club.”

His nurse giggles when I look to the ceiling. Giving her a glare that immediately softens as I realize she’s just an innocent, I head into the kitchen to find my ol’ lady. What I see next has me laughing long and loud.

She, Leathyr, Layce, Sunshine, and Stormy are at various spots around the kitchen, which because it’s one built for commercial use has plenty of workstations, and every one of them has flour covering their faces and hands. “Ladies, care to tell me what’s going on?” I ask, stalking over to Rayleigh, whose eyes are bright with laughter.

“Well, you see, what had happened was,” she starts, before dissolving into giggles that soon have the other four women joining in. Several times, she tries to start telling me what happened but so far, she’s been unsuccessful. Finally, she clears her throat multiple times then says, “Leathyr said she needed some flour, so Layce tossed a handful in her direction. Then she threw some back at her, which missed and hit Sunshine, so she joined in on the fun. I didn’t want to be left out, of course, so I also threw some, but it hit Stormy instead.”

“I guess this is what happens when we get cabin fever,” Leathyr admits, grinning. She looks so much more relaxed since taking on her new role, I wish I had done something sooner. What I like far more, even though it’s relatively unheard of, is all four of the club whores have apparently taken Rayleigh under their wing, teaching her more things she never knew. Between them and her friend, Cassie, who is planning to come eat with us tomorrow, I honestly don’t know what she’s going to say at this point. Every day, she grows a little more confident, which brings out her sassy side, something I’ve grown to love.

“Maybe y’all need to take a break,” I suggest, grabbing a cup of coffee.

“No time, Brick,” Rayleigh says, finishing up her task and sliding the tray of pies into one of the ovens. “We’ve got all this stuff to get ready for tomorrow so all we have to do is put the turkey and stuffing in. I want your brothers to enjoy Thanksgiving, honey, because I know it’s been a long time since y’all have done a meal like this here.”

Kissing the side of her head which is the only place where she’s not adorned with flour, I nod. “Y’all could’ve made instant macaroni and cheese, instant potatoes, a frozen pie or two, and cooked a turkey and those fuckers would’ve been satisfied.”

Five horror-stricken faces glare at me, causing me to toss my free hand up in the air. “I’m just saying, we’re rather simple when it comes to food.”

“Brick, with all due respect, I think you might wanna leave before she beans you with that pot she’s got in her hand,” Layce advises. I glance over to see Rayleigh smacking a large pot against her hand while glaring at me.

“Good plan. Great talk, ladies, keep up the awesome work.” With that, I leave the room, but hear their laughter start up the minute I cross the threshold into the common room. “They’re all a bit crazy,” I mutter, stalking to where Phantom is now sitting next to my pops.

“Your pops is a fucking genius,” Phantom whispers to me so he’s not overheard. “I merely asked him why we had the wine cellar.”

“What was his response?” I ask, curiosity getting the best of me.

“We knew not everyone we had to interrogate would be the same so rather than have one huge room with a drain in the middle, I decided the punishment should fit the crime,” Pops decrees, waving his hand around. “Some fuckers deserve to be strung up then bled out, sure, but others need a little time to consider why they thought it was a good idea to cross the club. Granted none of them ever made it out of there alive, but we always got a lot of good intel when they finally broke.”

I briefly remember what Madame Laveaux said and ask, “What about the Demon Devils, Pops?”

His face darkens as he pounds his fist on the table, causing the pitcher of beer and mugs to nearly tip over. “Bad time for the club then, son, bad fucking time. You were too little to remember, but they stole that precious little ray of sunshine, then killed her, before deciding to run her parents off the road, killing all of them.”

“How did y’all figure out it was them, Pops? Did you ever find her body?” If possible, his glower has his skin tone almost dark red at this point as he shakes his head.

“We looked everywhere. Wanted to give Bonzai and Lorelai some closure, although I think that word’s overused. What kind of ‘closure’ will any parents get when their baby girl is kidnapped then brutally beaten to death? None, none at all.

“Even when we managed to catch one of the fuckers, all he would do was laugh. Wouldn’t answer our questions, even when we had him practically knocking at Death’s door. Only thing the fucker would say was we didn’t know everything we thought we did. He died laughing even as blood poured from his throat after I slit it.”

He then looks at Phantom and states, “The fucking clean up down there is one reason we renovated the space. I’m sure you’ve noticed it by now.”

Phantom grins while nodding. “It’s fucking brilliant, RiffRaff.”

As the rest of my brothers make their way back into the clubhouse, some covered in far more snow than I think is warranted, Pops suddenly yells out, “Church!” Not missing a beat, every single one passes by and heads into Church. Shaking my head, I watch as my pops navigates his fancy electric wheelchair to the room.

“This oughta be very interesting,” Phantom wheezes out, finally letting his laughter out once my pops is out of earshot.

“You got that right.”

To give my brothers credit, none of them utter a word of protest when I sit where I used to when I was just a patched member. They all just shift around until we’re all seated as Pops’ eyes move around the room to our legacy wall. Instead of saying anything, he maneuvers his chair over and I watch him reverently touch the double shadowboxes where Bonzai’s cut, and Lorelei’s property cut now reside. He stares hard at the various pictures of the couple in happier times then out of the blue, asks, “Why is Lorelai in the kitchen with the whores? What the fuck has been going on around here when I’m not around?”

What the fuck? Standing I move to where he’s staring at one picture in particular. Bonzai has his arm around Lorelei’s shoulders, and she’s curled into his side. A much-younger Banshee is standing before them, a few of his teeth missing as he grins up at the pink bundle in his father’s arms.

“What do you mean, Pops?” I ask while the rest of the brothers remain silent, waiting to see how this impending shit show plays out. I say that because the hairs on the nape of my neck are standing straight up as I realize what he means.

“Look to your past for the answers you seek.”

Madame Laveaux’s words are ringing in my ears as I finally realize what she meant. Without a word to anyone, I rush out of the room then practically run to Banshee’s. Quickly unlocking the door, I head into his bathroom hoping against hope I can find what I need. Once I have it in hand, I relock his room then go into my own suite where I take Rayleigh’s toothbrush. Snagging two Ziplock bags which she has underneath the cabinet for some unknown reason, I put each item I took into a separate bag then head back into Church where I motion for Phantom.

When he comes closer, I thrust both bags into his hands and quietly utter, “Need you to get DNA run on both of these, Brother. As quickly as you can.” When he starts to speak, I hold up my hand. “Not ready to divulge the reason behind it, Phantom. Just know this, I think I figured out the mystery we were left with.”

With that, I retake my seat and clear my throat. “RiffRaff, I thought we were having Church.” I know I go back and forth with what I call him, but in Church, he’s always been RiffRaff.

He turns, glares in my direction then navigates his chair until he’s once again at the front of the table with all eyes on him. Taking the gavel he handed down to me in his slightly gnarled hand, he slams it against the wood and bellows, “Shut the fuck up! We’ve got shit to discuss!”

Later that night, as Rayleigh sleeps in my arms, fully sated as well as worn out from her earlier baking, I take every one of her features into account, unsure how I missed the obvious. However, until Phantom gets me the information I requested, I’ll keep my suspicions and thoughts to myself. No sense tipping my hand until I know for sure. I grin when I feel the kittens move into their desired nightly spots; Hobbes beneath Rayleigh’s hair, his face buried in her shoulder, Calvin around the top of my head. I gently kiss her temple then say, “Good night, boys. Watch out for your momma while she sleeps.”