Page 7 of Risk (Mayhem Makers: MMM #3)

CHAPTER

SIX

Risk

Luna delivered a healthy baby boy last night. “Jett,” I laugh at the name. “He’s gonna catch a lot of slack over that in school.”

“Talking shit?” Conan asks as he flops down next to me, the plastic chair bending with his weight. “I thought she was gonna have a girl.”

I chuckle, saying, “I think they thought they were having a girl too.”

“Isn’t that what that fancy machine told them they were having?” he inquires, tilting his head in thought. “I could’ve sworn that’s what they told us.”

A thought crosses my mind and instant pity surfaces. Which I share. “Fuck. I hope his goods were in hiding and they didn't know what he was because he’s… small.”

“Fuck no. He’s not small. No way, no how. He’s got my blood running through him,” Conan contends. “Small isn’t a thing in our family.”

Slyly, holding up my pinky finger, I provoke him. I highly enjoy getting him riled up, it’s one of my favorite pastime events. “You sure do talk a lot of shit, brother. Are you sure you aren’t boasting about your size because you’re covering up the fact that y’all aren’t… endowed?”

“Fuck that. I’ll show you,” he says, standing up and begins undoing his belt buckle.

“Conan! What the hell are you doing!” Demi shouts as she turns from where she was conversing with a few of the brothers and notices what he’s up to.

“This fucker,” he starts, pointing an accusatory finger at me and wiggling it in front of my face, “thinks my junk is small in stature. Tell him the truth, Demoness, or I’m gonna prove to him and everyone else in this room how false that accusation is!”

“Damn,” Hemi whistles, amusement in his eyes. “He’s fucking serious. He’s gonna drop his jeans and show everyone his Podunk size.”

“My size is not Podunk! Take that shit back, Hemi!” Conan thunders.

I’m not sure what the word Podunk has to do with dick size, but I’m finding this entirely too funny to stop them and ask. “He’s all talk. It’s probably why Demi has been moody lately.”

“You’re not helping, Risk,” Demi scolds. “I’ve been in a bad mood lately because I’m surrounded by jackasses.”

My jaw drops, now offended on behalf of my brothers and myself. “That’s rude. Take that back.”

“I don’t take back the truth,” she replies. “This is the perfect example of what I’ve been dealing with. Conan, fix your belt. I don’t share, not even when it comes to a glance at your dick.”

“See how obsessed she is with my cock? That’d only happen if I was big and stretched her cunt, fuckers!” Conan gloats.

Demi reaches up and smacks him in the back of the head. “Now you’re taking it too far. Zip up and follow me. You need to come bond with your nephew. Marcum and Luna are asking for you.”

Conan’s eyes scrunch together as he looks at her dumbfounded. “I didn’t unzip.”

“Fine. Buckle up, cowboy or you aren’t going to like the eight second ride I take you on,” Demi snaps.

“Eight seconds?” I snort-laugh. “Now that explains everything.”

Before I get a chance to prepare for his attack, I’m rammed by Conan and the two of us go flying. The chair I was sitting on flips and we hit the ground rolling. We exchange a few blows before we’re yanked apart by Regulator and Rev. “Y’all are gonna get us kicked out,” Rev grinds out.

“It wouldn’t be the first time,” Hemi mutters.

“You are all a bunch of overgrown boys,” Demi mumbles, stomping her foot.

“This is foolish behavior.” She reaches out and grabs Conan by the edge of his ear and starts towing him out of the room.

We can hear her scolding him all the way down the hallway and he’s trying to cool her engine by purring sexual innuendos at her.

“You’d think by now she’d understand that’s foreplay for him,” I say.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t find a dark corner on the way to Luna’s room,” Regulator surmises.

As one well-oiled unit, we all lean further into the hallway and watch the couple as they continue to walk down the path.

Sure enough, Conan wraps his arms around her waist and yanks her into a room.

Hopefully one that’s unoccupied because if not, a set of new parents are going to get one helluva exhibitionist show.

After a couple more hours, we all make our rounds with Luna and Kodiak’s new son.

We all went into that room bearing gifts.

Luna is ladened down with flowers and chocolates.

Jett now has enough onesies, diapers, bibs, and blankets to get him through his first year.

Not to mention we all went in with some type of stuffed animal.

I got Jett a bear because it reminded me of his father and his road name.

Thank fuck for apps and the ability to order shit on my phone because until I saw other things being delivered by drivers to my brothers, I hadn’t thought about giving the new parents and kid anything.

At first, I was going to offer babysitting services instead of purchasing anything. And then I thought about it and decided fuck that. I don’t know how to change a diaper let alone water and feed another person—I can’t even keep a goldfish alive let alone a tiny, dependent human being.

As I journey through the dark streets on my bike as I make my way back to the clubhouse, I can’t help but appreciate the brothers riding at my side.

If it weren’t for them, I’d be living a lonely existence.

As we pass through downtown and end up idling at a stoplight, I glance upward and my heart jumps into my throat at the woman I see looking down from her apartment window.

Our eyes meet and I see the longing and sadness on her face as she stares back at me.

I’m the cause of every wrinkle in her frown.

I don’t know how to make what I did right for her. How to make her smile again. To hear the chiming of her laughter. I stole that happiness from her, ripped it away with a drunken mistake.

“I’m sorry,” I mouth the words to her. “So, fucking sorry.” I’m not sure if she can read my lips or not, but she nods at me and lowers the shades.

I clamp my eyes shut, committing her address to memory as the light turns green and my brothers begin to rev their engines.

“I don’t know how, but I’m going to make this up to you, Vixen.”

The rest of the way home, I make a mental plan. I decide to start having small things delivered to her place. Ice cream being on the top of that list because it’s one of her favorite snacks. Whenever she was sad, she’d drown her sorrows in milk chocolate.

I may not ever earn true forgiveness, but if I can cause her to grin, I’ll accept it.

I don’t want to hinder her life, but I refuse to divorce her or yank the title of old lady away from her.

That’s the least she deserves. If I hadn’t been a failure and the perpetrator in the ruin our marriage, she’d still have a family.

She may not realize it, but I’m going to make it my life mission to show her that she still does. The guys still talk about her, they miss her. If I have to skip town for her to accept she’s still one of us, then that’s what I’ll do.

Fuck. I hope it doesn’t come down to that because my brothers, my club, they’re my lifeline.

“They were hers too,” that pesky voice that talks to me from time to time reminds me.

Dammit.