Page 7 of Running from Drac

“What are we talking about?” Wesley questions, being his nosy self.

“Dad wants to start a motorcycle club after Amber and I walk down the aisle. He says I have the itch.”

“Jock itch, maybe,” Wesley jokes.

“Shut up. At least it’s better than that STD Olivia gave you last year.”

His smile falters slightly. “How was I supposed to know that the bitch got around? Sure, I met her while cruising the strip, but she looked like a nice STD free girl. Besides, I’m clean now, so stop rubbing it in my face. Seriously though, Pops, aren’t you a little old to be starting a motorcycle club?”

Dad laughs. “You’re never too old to start a club, Wesley. Besides, you three keep getting yourselves into trouble; might as well have a purpose behind it.”

Wesley rolls his eyes. “You steal one car, and suddenly you’re a criminal.”

“You are a criminal, asshole.”

“Yeah, well, so are you, Eddie, or did you forget about the guy you put in the hospital after he dared to touch Amber. Or the fact that you were the one who fucking hot-wired the car for me. I’m just the one who drove the wheels off it until it ended up in that ditch.”

Rich grins. “Damn, that was a really good night.”

“Until we ended up in Juvie,” I remind him.

He nods. “Yeah, until then. Hopefully, that’s the last we see of it. Anyway, what are we talking about here? We just gonna buy some bikes and ride around and call ourselves a club?”

Dad nods his head. “Something like that. There’s a lot more to it than that. We need a good group of men to form the senior members, and then we gotta establish rules and regulations. It’s a lot of hard work, but I think you boys are up to the challenge.”

“I’m guessing that means you’ll be president or whatever they call it,” I say with a laugh.

He pulls on his overall straps, and grins. “Well, it was my idea. Don’t worry, I’ll make you VP, and even give these two idiots pretty good titles too.”

“I think you’re being delusional, Dad.”

“Say that to me after you’ve been on a bike for the first time, Eddie. I’m pretty sure you’ll change your tune.”

My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I frown when I see I have two text messages, both from women who are not my fiancée.

Jinafer: Hey cutie, long time no talk. Just wanted to see how you’ve been. Heard you were engaged or some bullshit like that. Sounds awful. You should call me when you realize you’re too young to get married.

This one is an easy text to reply to. This bitch just doesn’t take a hint.

Me: Fuck off, Jinafer. Call someone who cares. Lose my fucking number.

Jinafer: ?? Playing hard to get. I like it. You know your asshole side only turns me on, Eddie. The offer still stands. Call me when you’re done playing house.

Wesley peeks over my shoulder and rolls his eyes. “Is that Jinafer bitch still all over your jock? Damn, dude, what the fuck did you do to her?”

“Nothing that I haven’t regretted since the day it happened. That girl is all boobs and trouble, and I almost lost Amber because of her.”

“How did Amber take it when you told her about it?” Rich questions, his voice softening just a tad.

“Not well. She’s at least forgiven me for it. I think. But we’re kinda fighting right now because I told her not to go to Vegas with Pippa and Poppy, and she still fucking went.”

Wesley’s eyes lit up the second I said Poppy’s name. The man’s had a major crush on her since the seventh grade, but never has had the gonads to ask her out. She wouldn’t say yes, anyway. There’s a stick shoved up that girl’s ass nobody can dislodge.

“It’s just Vegas, Eddie. It’s not like Amber is going to do something stupid. She loves you, man.”

Turning my phone toward him, I show him Pippa’s message.

Pippa: Hey, you may want to be at Amber’s house when we get back. Some shit went down that you should know about.