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CHAPTER EIGHT

RiffRaff

“Brick, we need to talk,” I tell him as I walk over to the bar to where they’re sitting. “Let’s go into your office.”

“Pops, not in the mood right now.”

“I said, let’s head to your office, Brick ,” I order, pulling on my presidential voice that used to make grown men cower in fear.

“Fine, fine, whatthefuckever,” he grumbles, grabbing his beer and storming off toward his office. I get one from one of the prospects and follow behind, entering the office to see him pacing it, rubbing his hand across his shaved head.

Taking a sip of my beer, I place it on the desk then walk toward him until we’re toe to toe. “You see this?” I ask, pointing to my cut where my flash resides. Then I turn and smack my back patch which denotes my club and location. “And this?”

“Yeah, and?” he spits out.

“I’m still a fucking patched member, Mr. President ,” I snarl through gritted teeth. “And as such, while I may no longer hold the fucking gavel, and no, I don’t want it back, I’m entitled to be treated as such. I still hold the patch, I still ride, and I still go on fucking runs. You were completely disrespectful and totally out of line with how you treated me in church.”

A stunned look crosses his face, and he feels around for his chair before he slumps into it, his mouth hanging open. I watch, my arms across my chest, glowering at him, as he tries several times to talk. My brow raises and I ask, “What do you have to say for yourself? My cut doesn’t say ‘honorary’ on it, son. Fuck, we’ve never had that designation in my lifetime. I realize it was different when I wasn’t in my right mind, but I am and all the fucking scans those assholes did on me prove that fact. You know this, you were there when we went over the results, remember?”

“Fuck, Pops, I… I don’t know what to say here,” he finally manages to stammer out. “I mean, before you were healed, I was adjusting to the fact that you were probably not going to be around all that much longer, you know? In my head I know you’re perfectly fine, probably healthier and better than anyone else if I’m being completely honest. But in my heart, fuck Pops, my heart still sees you in the motorized wheelchair, not always knowing who you were, who I was, and failing fast.”

I’m stunned seeing how glassy his eyes look. I love my boy, always have, but this life can be hard and indifferent when it comes to emotions and feelings. We had to be tough and strong, especially when we did things that weren’t always legal under man made laws, knowing that we might not make it out of a particular situation with our lives intact.

“I know, Brick, I know.” I may not have been aware of it at the time, but when I questioned why most of the brothers were still treating me with kid gloves, Ryleigh talked to me and told me just how bad I really was at the time. I hold a lot of guilt, even though it wasn’t my fault, because I wasn’t always the nicest, most pleasant man to be around. In fact, I was grumpy, surly, and a downright asshole most of the time.

He stands and walks to where I’m still standing then wraps me up in a hug. It’s been a long time since I’ve hugged my boy outside of the typical side hugs most of the brothers give one another. I can feel his shoulders shaking and find tears welling in my own eyes. My son may be a strong man, but he’s been carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders for a long time, especially since he didn’t even have me to counsel him.

“Love you, boy,” I say, my voice gruff with unspoken emotion. “And I’m so fucking proud of how you’ve led this club all these years. You’d have made your grandfather proud, I think.”

He chuckles then sniffs a few times before pulling back and wiping his face. “Love you too, Pops, and I’m so fucking sorry for how I acted in church. But somehow, I doubt that my grandfather would be proud of the man and president I’ve become. The old man was a mean sonofabitch as I recall.”

“Yeah, he was, but he wasn’t always that way, not until Ryleigh was abducted then Bonzai and Lorelai were killed. He went from wanting to be a family-oriented club to not caring,” I reply.

“So, now that we’ve got that cleared up, anything you want to share?” he asks. I know what he wants to hear, and I’ve put it off long enough. It’s time I tell my boy all about the woman who’s enraptured me.

“I met a woman,” I admit. “She’s my ol’ lady, Brick, but it hasn’t been so long since I met her daughter, which is why I haven’t brought her around and introduced her just yet. She’s a civilian although I’m gonna want to bring it to the table when I get back from Cedar Creek and officially claim her as my ol’ lady.”

“What’s her name? And you said she has a daughter? How old is she?” Brick questions.

“Her name is Jillian, she’s a vet tech at the animal clinic which means she probably knows Ryleigh and Rory at least. Her daughter’s name is Kimber and she’s about to turn thirteen, right around Christmas.”

“Can’t wait to meet them,” he says.

“You’re gonna love them,” I promise.

While the prospects get my truck gassed up and make sure I’ve got an emergency winter kit since I’ll be heading through areas that have gotten a blanket of snow, I pack my duffel bag and make sure I’ve got my gun and plenty of ammo on hand. Not knowing what kind of situation I might find myself in once I meet up with the LeBlanc brothers, I want to be prepared for any and all outcomes. After giving the prospect my duffel bag to load for me and reminding him to make sure my bike is properly tied down on the bike trailer, I head toward where Dragon and Wrecker are sitting. By the time I make it their way and sit down, one of the club girls has a beer placed in front of me.

“Thanks, Stormy,” I say, taking a long swallow.

“No problem, RiffRaff,” she cordially replies before heading back behind the bar.

Usually, the prospects man it, but Stormy fills in whenever they’ve got other tasks to complete. Right now, I know that Ryleigh and Rory are in the kitchen putting together a cooler of drinks, sandwiches, and snacks for me to munch on during my trip. It’s gonna take a little over sixteen hours, depending on the driving conditions, before I hit Cedar Creek, and it’s a pain in the ass to go through drive-thrus when you’re driving a dually with a travel trailer hitched to the rear end. Hopefully, they remember a thermos of coffee as well to help me stay warm for the colder climates I’ll be traveling through. I make a mental note to ask if they’ve done so once I’m done talking to Dragon and Wrecker.

“So, I heard from Marcum. They’ve got an Airbnb booked for y’all and once I have the address, I’ll send you a text with the coordinates,” Dragon says.

Nodding, I ask, “Do you think I’ll need to call in any of my buddies for reinforcement?”

Dragon and Wrecker exchange ironical looks then Dragon tells me, “They’re nomads and definitely used to handling a lot of tough shit. I’m sure if more guys are needed, they’ll call on their brothers with the Deviant Knights MC, since that’s whose colors they ride under these days.”

“What are their road names?” I query. “Because I’m pretty sure they don’t ride as Marcum and Xavier if they’ve laid down the nomadic lifestyle and have started a club chapter themselves.”

Wrecker snickers then replies, “Marcum is Kodiak and Xavier is Conan.”

“Got it. So, we’ve got eyes on Joceline and her kids, correct?”

“We do. If all goes as planned, y’all should be able to get in, get them out, grab the felonious information that jackass has gathered on us and has spread throughout several post office boxes, and head back here without any issues. Of course, that fucker is a slimy weasel, so be prepared for anything,” Dragon advises.

“Always am, and I may reach out to Clatter to put him on notice. I may need him as backup in case we find ourselves in hot water since he now lives in Texas. I know the state’s big as fuck and I have no clue how far away he is from Cedar Creek,” I say. “He retired from the Raiders when I was indisposed. Best fucking brother I’ve ever had since we grew up together.”

“Might not be a bad idea,” Wrecker muses. “Just know that Kodiak will be taking point.”

“Got no problem with that, brother,” I reply. “I’m just a patch.”

“We’re hoping that if all goes well, we can form an alliance with them because Kodiak was mentioning they were looking to establish roots. Wouldn’t hurt to have them available if something comes up for either of our chapters.”

“Yeah, it’s always good to have friends available to reach out to in times of trouble. Anticipated or otherwise. Hell, if they become allies with us, I’m sure Brick won’t have a problem if they’re ever in our neck of the woods and need a place to crash, but that’ll be up to him, of course.”

One of the prospects comes over and after I nod at him, he hands me my key fob and says, “It’s all gassed up, the fluids are topped off, we’ve already put your bag in the back, have your bike loaded on the trailer and locked in tight. We just have to get the cooler from the ol’ ladies and then you’ll be set to go.”

“Appreciate it, prospect,” I tell him, slipping my fob into my cut. I won’t wear it while in the cage, of course, but it’s a habit at this point. There’s also a small key attached that I know fits the lock on the trailer.

He leaves and I ask, “Anything else you can think of that I need to know?”

“Not off the top of my head, brother. If anything comes up, I’ll reach out,” Dragon replies.

I stand and hit the table with my fist. “Then I’m off to make a quick stop before hitting the road. With any luck, we’ll have her and the kids home by Christmas.”

“Safe travels, brother. Keep the pavement beneath your feet and your bike sunny side up,” Wrecker remarks, something I’ve heard him say numerous times when one of the brothers goes on a run for the club. I knock knuckles with them before heading to the truck where the prospect is shutting the door after securing the cooler in the passenger seat. We nod heads at each other in passing before I jump in and fire up the engine.

As I look around, I mentally go through my checklist to ensure I have all I’ll need and don’t see my thermos. “Shit, need that,” I murmur, snapping my fingers. My thermos is one of those old school ones that keeps the contents hot for quite a few hours. I get out of the truck while leaving it running and am nearly to the clubhouse door when it opens and Ryleigh comes flying through, the thermos clutched in her arms.

“Oh, I’m so glad I caught you! I wanted to make sure it was fresh, so we brewed another pot and had to make sure it was ready to go for you, RiffRaff,” she says.

I take it from her hands, lean down and kiss her cheek and say, “Thanks, Ryleigh. See y’all soon.”