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CHAPTER

SEVENTEEN

Banshee

“So, if the RV’s rocking, don’t come knocking, huh?” Scythe teases the next morning as we sit at a diner grabbing breakfast.

“Shut it, fucker, and don’t you dare embarrass my ol’ lady,” I warn.

“Wouldn’t dream of it. You on the other hand,” he retorts, smirking. As Rory returns to the table, he rearranges his face and asks, “How’s the RV running now?”

“Like a dream,” she says. “I mean, it wasn’t bad before, but whatever y’all did has improved it even more.”

“And the cat? How’s she doing?”

I chuckle at that one because being in the RV with Rory means that Sassy doesn’t have her usual spot, so she’s been roaming around frequently. “She likes looking out windows,” I reply. “So, she spends a lot of time on Rory’s lap, but she also hangs out in the loft or on the dining room table.”

The only time we’ve put her in the carrier was when we drove through a storm that popped up suddenly. Once we were able to pull over, both of my brothers came inside to wait out the rain, then change into dry clothes.

“Do we need to run by the laundromat so we can wash and dry y’all’s clothes?” Rory asks. “There’s one right across the street which is why I asked.”

I think about what she’s asking. We still have at least two more days of driving at our current pace, and we packed somewhat light to begin with so with one change of clothes currently out of commission, they may not have much left. “Might not be a bad idea, what do y’all think?” I inquire, looking at Scythe and Kracken.

Both shrug so I decide we’ll stay in town long enough for them to take care of that task. Rory is grinning and I know she saw the second-hand thrift store next door to the laundromat. Guess we’ll be shopping while they’re doing their laundry.

“We’re almost there, babe,” I tell her as the familiar landscape appears. The past two days have been exhausting, not gonna lie, but being with her and us getting to know each other better has been priceless.

“I’m nervous,” she admits, petting Sassy, who is on her lap once again. “What if you bringing me home makes your president mad?”

I start laughing because her expression is so sincere, even though she’s now worrying that plump, juicy lip. “Sweetheart, he’s not going to be mad. I told him already that you were coming home with me and that you were my ol’ lady.”

“Don’t you have to vote on that or something?” she asks.

“Where do you get that shit?” I counter. “Maybe some clubs do, and ideally, you would have come around some before it happened, but Brick remembers how my dad was. Hell, his dad, RiffRaff, is the same damn way.”

“Books and stuff,” she mumbles, her face now red with embarrassment.

“Hey, now. No reason to get upset. Like I said, I’m sure there are clubs that do vote in their ol’ ladies, but right now, counting you, we have two in our chapter. It’s possible we’ll add that requirement to our bylaws because someone could try to get an in with the club to cause a problem, but that’ll be club business.”

“So, you’re never going to be able to tell me everything. That sucks.”

“I’ll tell you everything I’m able to as long as doing so won’t put you or my sister in danger,” I promise. “Because I know you won’t share anything I tell you.”

“Not if you say I need to keep it to myself,” she says, grinning at me. “I’m curious by nature and you can blame my grampy for that because he used to tell me the only dumb question was one I had that I didn’t ask. But I promise if you say it’s club business and you can’t tell me, I’ll wait patiently for you to be able to do so.”

I smirk, knowing good and well she’ll try to get it out of me. But I’m always down for a good time. Then, sobering, I glance at her and say, “Until I can build something for us, we’ll be living in the clubhouse, is that going to be a problem? There’s not a lot of privacy, although the rooms are more like suites.”

“No. Can I help pick out the plans?” she asks. “And do y’all have the space for a garden or maybe some chickens? I promise I’ll take care of them, y’all won’t have to do anything.”

“Sweetheart, you can have whatever you’d like. Besides, we’ve got prospects to torture so I’m sure they won’t mind helping with your chickens.”

Her giggles ring in my ears as she starts talking about the kind of house she wants. Strangely enough, what she wants is the same thing as me. Looks like a sprawling ranch/farmhouse style with five bedrooms is in my future.

As I pull up to the fence at the clubhouse, I see that Scythe has already pulled through and the gate is still open. Driving through, I see the look on the prospect’s face as I nod while pulling toward the area where we park cars. I’m seldom in a vehicle, so his gobsmacked expression has me chuckling as I park the RV and turn it off. Turning to the woman who has captured my heart, I ask, “Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be, I guess.”