Page 19

EIGHTEEN

Rio

After we ate, Issy got up to do her normal nightly routine while I ran the dirty dishes downstairs. I didn’t leave them for Constance though, I rinsed them then put them in the dishwasher. On my way back upstairs to my room, my phone chimes and I pull it out of my back pocket. Being the president of the West Texas Kings, I keep it on me at all times because you never know what disaster will appear.

Not like I’m wearing much, of course, just a pair of jeans, so I didn’t burn anything important while heating our food up. Still, since the brothers are well aware not to bother me, whoever’s calling must have an emergency of sorts.

Seeing it’s Riptide, I decide to answer because the fucker will just keep calling until I do pick up. “What’s going on?” I bark out. “Any problems?”

“Nope,” he replies. “Package has been delivered.” He starts chuckling at that and I wait for him to fill me in. “Their club VP, Candyman, opened it right then and there and quickly realized it was chunks of Four. There was a shit ton of yelling and posturing by the members, but since they’re not sure who had Four, they don’t know who to retaliate against.”

“That sounds favorable,” I muse out loud. “I mean, I don’t give that first fuck that they know it was the Kings who killed their man, but if we can hold off on starting any wars right now, that’d be good.”

He barks out a laugh. “We’ll keep an eye on things from this end. Got a prospect who’s close to patching in that’s getting his final test, Brother. He’ll stay around, without his colors, and act like he’s interested in their club. We have a nondescript bike and he’s going to have his sister, who’s a hairdresser, put in those extensions just in case they’ve ever seen him around the Kings. She’s coloring it as well, and he’s wearing colored contact lenses.”

“Fuck, Rip, you don’t think that’s too much?” I question.

“Not at all. We know these assholes are slime on the bottom of a slug’s belly, so who’s to say they don’t know each and every member of our somewhat local clubs, including our prospects? This way, we’ll hopefully get more inside information as well. Not particularly happy that they have meth houses all around. There are fucking kids in those neighborhoods, Rio!”

“I know, Rip. But some of our chapters run drugs. What makes us different from them?” I query.

“Because any of our houses, where product is stored or even manufactured are on property that isn’t close to subdivisions and shit,” he retorts.

“Makes sense. Did you get the transfer from Pokey?”

“Yeah, the brothers will be happy with their envelopes, that’s for damn sure,” he replies.

“Good to know. So, we have a plan in place to watch the Devils. Thinking when we run the next rodeo here would be a good time to do Gage’s formal memorial, since he loved bull riding.”

“Saw something that might work for that. What if some of his ashes were put on the back of one of the bulls and it was allowed to buck and run through the pen? The fucker was always more comfortable on the back of a bull or a horse than a bike, even though he could ride.”

“If he had been willing, he’d have been a brother, Rip,” I remind him.

“Yeah, I know. Oh, I heard rumbles about his mother. Seems they’re going to sell her, although from what is also known, she’s no better than a junkie whore anyhow, so I don’t imagine she’ll survive very long.”

“Good riddance to bad rubbish as far as I’m concerned. She made Gage’s life hell and obviously, selling her daughter wasn’t much better,” I say.

“Later, Brother. Gotta hit the hay,” Rip states before disconnecting.

I check the doors to make sure everything’s locked up tight, set the alarm, then head back upstairs to Issy. There’ll be time enough later to dissect everything that Riptide shared with me.

“Wakey, wakey, it’s time for eggs and bakey,” Issy sing songs, which means I wake up grinning at her silly rhyme and mercurial laughter.

“Hungry again?” I ask.

“Rafe, it’s nearly eleven o’clock in the morning,” she states, harrumphing.

“You’re kidding me, right?” I question, bolting upright. I never sleep that late. Hell, even as early in the morning as we finally fell asleep, I’ve done that before and still got up at the break of dawn.

“Not one bit,” she rebuts. “Daylight’s burning as Paps used to tell us, and I was going to work with Starlight today after I run Stargazer through the barrels a few times.” The excitement blazing in her eyes at spending quality time in the ring with her girls has me grinning.

“I’ll head to the barn with you, just give me a few minutes,” I tell her, swinging my legs off the bed so I can head into the bathroom and take a piss.

I see her start making the bed and shake my head because she’s always been tidy in that way. Once I run through my morning routine, which is far less involved than Issy’s, I slip on clean clothes, grab my cut and slide the buttery smooth leather over my shoulders then hold out my hand for her to take.

“Constance already has some breakfast sandwiches prepared and ready for us to consume,” she confides in a conspiratorial whisper as we walk down the stairs causing me to chuckle at her cajoling antics. “Along with travel coffee mugs.”

Thank God , I think, because I’m definitely going to need the caffeine intake in order to function.

“She’s a saint,” I mumble. Issy just grins because she knows I don’t always wake up fully functional, especially if I’m startled awake from a deep sleep. I don’t give her any shit about it, though, because apparently, I was far more tired than I realized. Either that, or I expended a lot of energy with our mattress activities.

“Thanks, Constance,” she says as we walk into the kitchen and see our stuff neatly packed in a bag.

“I’ll have Luis run lunch down later,” Constance replies, informing us of her intentions. “That way, you won’t have to stop what you’re doing with the horses. It won’t be too long from now, either, but I feel confident y’all will have no problem eating it.” The gleam in her eye lets me know that the gossip mill is still alive and well on the ranch.

Sighing, I tip my chin in her direction then grab the bag while Issy takes our travel mugs so we can head to the barn. She giggles as we start down the path and I ask, “What has you in such a good mood this morning?”

As if I don’t know, seeing as I’m also in one myself. Who knew a solid night with your woman making love, with sporadic naps thrown in between, would fill me with so many endorphins I’d be happy? Yeah, not me, that’s for sure.

She quirks her brow at me and sasses, “Probably something to do with you and me doing the horizontal mambo most of the evening and into the late-night hours, or should I say early morning hours?”

I burst out laughing, which was no doubt her intention. “Come on, let’s sit over here and eat before you start playing with the horses.”

“You’re timing me, right?” she questions.

“Definitely, Issy,” I reply, sitting next to her so I can kiss her temple.

“Fuck, she’s fast,” I murmur as Issy crosses the imaginary finish line. Looking down at the stopwatch, I call out in excitement, “She’s hovering around fourteen seconds, Issy.”

“Gotta get it down,” she replies. “This is gonna be her year, Rafe. I can feel it.”

“Maybe if she lays off the apples?” I query, making her laugh. “Actually, you know she always seems to perform well with a crowd cheering her on, so it’s probable that she’ll be at least a second faster during an actual race.”

“I’ve been thinking about that,” she says. “What if we inject some background audience sounds, containing clapping and hollers through the sound system, Rafe? I’m sure we can download some, right?”

“That might work,” I state after mulling it over. “Let me get Pokey on it for you since we have videos of past rodeos here on hard drives that he can pull from.”

“Have you heard back from the association about the next rodeo here?” she questions.

“Probably won’t be until later on in the year, since they want to schedule the shows in the areas where the weather gets a bit iffy since we’re relatively temperate in these parts year-round,” I tell her.

“At least it’ll be after foaling season, since I’m hoping to help Pancho and Luis with that,” she replies.

“I need to put you on the ranch’s payroll,” I tease.

“No, you don’t,” she protests.

“You’re right, I don’t, because as my ol’ lady, I’ll always take care of you,” I advise, leaving no room for argument. “But I know you do a lot around here, Issy, and you should be compensated for what you do. Plus, you give lessons as well.”

“Which I get paid for, remember? Using your ranch at that!” she exclaims, her hands on her hips. “As long as I have money to take care of things I need, I don’t have to be rolling in it, Rafe.”

I shake my head because the club as a whole does very well with all of our ventures, both the legit and somewhat gray area’d ones, plus the ranch itself is beyond profitable since we offer stud services, as well as mares for those who have their own studs they want to breed into championship lines. We also board horses. Paps definitely knew what he was doing all those years ago, because even if we didn’t have any businesses outside of what the ranch offers, all of us would be doing well financially.

So, even though Issy is content, she has no clue what dollar power she truly has backing her. Since I love spoiling her and plan to do so as often as I can get away with it, without her fussing at me, I’ll be paying close attention to things she notices. I might even see if Pokey can hack into her wish list… because like most women, she has an extensive one with a variety of items, from Funko pops of characters she likes, to books, to boots and western wear.

“We’ll agree to disagree, Issy, okay? Just don’t yell at Chick if he comes and asks for your banking information so he can get you set up on direct deposit.”

She rolls her eyes at me then shrugs. “Whatever you think is best, Rafe, because I know at the end of the day, you’re gonna do what you think is best anyhow.”

“Where you’re concerned? Absofuckinglutely,” I growl out. “Now, let’s run her through again.”