Page 34 of Trip (Sons of Hell MC #11)

King

Rosewood, Virginia...

Drumming my fingers along the smooth polished wood before me, I waited impatiently. I should have known better. That little shit was never on time for anything. He was going to be late for his own funeral. I should know, because when his ass got here, I was going to kill him.

Sighing, I looked at the ceiling and frowned.

Fuck, I needed to get the brothers in here to repaint again.

My youngest brother Pyro sat across from me, working on another damn crossword puzzle as he chewed gum. Gone were the days he played games on his phone, now replaced with crossword puzzles his wife got him hooked on.

However, the constant pop of his gum still aggravated me to no end.

A lot of things had annoyed me lately. I knew why. I just wasn’t ready to admit it.

Okay, so I wasn’t completely positive he was ready.

Or maybe it was because I wasn’t ready.

Who knew? But if that little shit didn’t show up soon, I was going to change my mind.

That thought alone should have made me happy, but it didn’t.

As much as I wanted to hold on to the reins, I was tired.

Besides, I promised Bailey that we would spend our golden years together. Not with my brothers.

It was now or never. This club was my legacy, and I had the right to pass it down to whoever I wanted. Even if the little shit was late.

“Where the fuck is he?” I groaned, looking around the room.

“He mentioned he was going to town last night. Something about meeting up with a girl,” Priest stated, leaning back in his chair as he flipped through the book he was reading.

“What girl?” I asked, looking at Priest, and my brother just shrugged his shoulders.

Swinging my gaze to Enigma, I asked, “Did Benny go with him?”

“Who knows?” Enigma yawned. “Benny hasn’t been saying much lately. Shug and I think he’s still hung up over Marley.”

“Thought it was an amicable breakup?” Banks commented.

“Yeah, so did we.”

“Could be worse. Alek called me two days ago, pissed because he found Nash passed out drunk in the Gentleman’s Club. He told me Illyria threatened to cut off his dick if he ever showed up there again.”

“Thought he was coming home?” I asked.

Banks sighed. “So did we, but apparently he’s having too much fun in the city.”

Fuck, I wanted this meeting over fast. I needed to run into town and grab myself a coffee.

Thank God Beth still ran the coffee shop.

I didn’t know what I would do if she quit.

Bad enough, Mike had retired from being the town sheriff, saying he would not spend the rest of his life making sure our sons and daughters walked the straight and narrow.

I told the fucker he could arrest the lot of them, but he flat out refused to do our dirty work.

Reaching for my phone, I called my baby girl, and when she answered, I groaned. “Can’t talk right now, Dad. I’m busy.”

“Get un-busy. Where is your brother?”

“How the hell should I know? Probably fucking some tramp.”

“Rosie,” I growled, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Language.”

“Oh please.” My daughter laughed. “Momma curses more than I do; besides, you know I’m right. Ever since he came home, he’s been fucking his way through the population of Rosewood. Look at it this way, Dad. If he continues, you’re gonna be a grandpa soon.”

At that, I heard my lovely wife laugh in the background. “You tell him, Rose!”

Groaning, I said, “If you see him, tell him to get his ass here fast.”

“Okie dokie!” my baby girl said, disconnecting the call as I growled, “I’m gonna kill him.”

“You kill him, and then who will take over?” Gunner grinned.

“I can appoint Mikie.”

Gunner threw his head back and laughed. “Good luck with that. My boy is happy where he’s at.”

Sighing, I knew Gunner was right. Mikie, Gunner’s only son, took after his mother and lived in the garage. From the moment that boy watched his mother take apart an engine, the young boy was hooked.

“Now, if you want to be all politically correct, I vote for Hailey.” Gunner smirked, and I grimaced.

“Do you want Savage to kill me?” I snarked.

“Because he will. That bastard flat out refuses to let his niece anywhere near this place. Hell, that’s if Cameron doesn’t kill me himself.

Those two hate each other. Can’t stand to be in the same damn room.

Do I need to remind you of what happened during Hailey’s sweet-sixteen party? ”

Frank chuckled. “That shit was funny.”

Priest nodded, then added, “But that pales in comparison to the greenhouse fiasco. Isn’t that right, Scribe?” Priest smiled at Scribe, who still paled when that shit was mentioned. Even after all these years, nothing compared to that mess.

We had just returned home from Daytona after C.C.

’s big win to find the Rosewood Fire Department, along with Mike, standing around waiting for our arrival.

The second we pulled into the compound, Scribe and Cameron both bolted around to the back of the clubhouse. Following them, all hell broke loose.

“Holy Shit Cannoli!” Cameron sighed. “I told you not to put it in there!”

“It was perfectly safe!”

“Then explain that.” The little shit pointed at the hole in the ground.

“Would either of you like to tell me why I have a crater in my backyard and the backside of the clubhouse is missing?” I calmly asked as I glared at both of them.

And like I expected, both pointed their finger at each other.

“It was his idea!” they said in unison.

“MY BOOKS!” Frank screamed as he shoved his way past the firefighters, trying to get into the clubhouse.

“Now you’ve done it,” Pyro sighed, shaking his head. “He’s gonna be bitching for days.”

“Cameron Aaron Hobbs. Just what in the hell did you do now?” Skylar snapped as she charged toward her brother.

“It’s Montclair now, Sissy. M-O-N-T-C-L-A-I-R!” he enunciated, spelling out every damn letter as if she didn’t already know how to spell her own last name. “Besides, you can’t punish me anymore. Only King can.”

Scribe carefully moved the little shit behind him as I took a step forward.

“Now, King, remember you wanted him. So you can’t kill him.”

“No, but I can kill you,” I snarled. “Just what in the hell were you two doing in the greenhouse?”

“It was going to be a surprise.” Scribe gulped.

“Was not,” Cameron piped up. “He was gonna get Bailey back.”

“I KNEW IT!” my woman screeched, marching over, mad as hell. “It’s on like Donkey Kong, Bestie! Sleep with one eye open!” she threatened, pointing her own damn finger at Scribe.

Scribe turned and snapped, “You little turncoat! After everything I’ve done for you!”

“Ain’t takin’ all the blame on this one. I told you not to put it in there!”

“Put what in where?” Mike asked, standing next to me.

Cameron gulped as he looked at Mike, then back at me, before sighing as his shoulders slumped. “The Tannerite.”

“Oh my God,” Skylar gasped as several people whistled.

“And just where in the hell did you get Tannerite?” I asked.

“Can’t tell ya that, Prez. I gave my word.”

Gunner walked over and whispered to me, “There’s only one person I know who uses that shit and if I’m not mistaken, Cameron visited him not too long ago.”

Turning, I spotted Banks slowly backing up. “Get your ass over here.”

“Man,” Banks grumbled. “I was just the driver. I didn’t know shit about shit.”

Rubbing the back of my neck, I took a deep breath and said, “Tannerite won’t blow on its own. What else were you two doing in the greenhouse?”

“You might as well tell him, Scribe. We’re already grounded for life,” Cameron said, smiling up at one of the men he admired most.

“Fine,” Scribe groaned. “I was growing an assortment of dicks to give to Bailey on her birthday.”

“Yeah!” Cameron smiled up at me. “And they were growin’ good, too.

Big ones, small ones, even itty-bitty ones.

He even had some fancy ones. Scribe bought this real fancy fertilizer and BAAM.

Dicks grew overnight! Everywhere I looked there were dicks of all shapes, sizes, and colors. It was Dickpalooza in the greenhouse!”

“Really?” Bailey smiled as she threw her arms around Scribe, hugging him. “You remembered.”

“Of course.” Scribe grinned, hugging her back. “You’re my bestie, and I wanted you to have a variety of dicks for your birthday.”

“Can we get back to the matter at hand?” Mike scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“I’m more interested in the dick thing.” Enigma chuckled as the brothers all laughed.

Letting Bailey go, Scribe explained, “I was growing Bailey exotic plants for her birthday. Woman is constantly going on and on about King’s dick, so I thought I’d surprise her with a greenhouse full of dicks.”

“Yeah, but some of those plants needed special fertilizer,” Cameron added.

“And a special environment. That’s why I built the greenhouse. Only I didn’t count on the cold winters. That’s when Cameron found out that I needed a specialized heating system from a book at the library.”

“That’s why you kept dragging me to the Rosewood Library!” Skylar snapped.

“Well, how else was I gonna learn about what a dick needed? Ain’t like you let me have a computer.”

“And you’re still not getting one,” I snarled. “Continue.”

“Anyway.” Scribe gulped. “Once I figured out what I needed, I bought the equipment and set it up.”

“And the Tannerite?” Mike asked.

Rubbing the back of his neck, Scribe smiled sheepishly. “Yea, well, that was for Cameron’s science project this year.”

“Yeah, because who doesn’t love explosions!”

I groaned, shaking my head. “No.”

“Oh yeah.” Cameron smiled up at me. “Mr. Kellerman already said I could.”

“Anyway, Cameron only got about five pounds of the stuff, and I told him he could store it in the greenhouse. That way, no one would mess with it. Only I placed the bag next to my fertilizer, which was right next to the heating coils and, well... Boom?”

“My poor dicks.” Bailey sighed as she looked down into the big hole.

Needless to say, Scribe was on cleaning duty for the rest of the year after I ran him ragged on the obstacle course. As for Cameron, well, he was banned from the Science Fair for the next year and grounded for life, which lasted roughly a month before he wore me down.

Looking at my watch, I groaned. “Pyro, call your wife and see if she knows where her brother is at.”

My brother said nothing as he dug into his pocket, then slid his phone toward me. “You call her,” he said, when we all heard a motorcycle pull up.

Moments later, the little shit walked into church, smiling as if nothing was wrong.

“Hey, Dad.”

Looking at the man before me where a young boy once stood, I still couldn’t get over how much he changed over the years.

No longer the small little boy who used to follow me around, Cameron now stood as tall as me and, thanks to my wife, he had his own ink up and down his arms. But seeing him now, I was reminded of my best friend, Kevin Hobbs.

I wondered what he would think of his son now.

Would he be as proud of Cameron as I was?

Would he be happy with how I raised him?

I often found myself lost in these musings, wondering what life would have been like if Kevin were still here.

He had always been the more adventurous one, always pushing boundaries and finding joy in the little things.

I saw that same spark in Cameron, and it was both a comfort and a bittersweet reminder.

Cameron’s grin faded slightly as he took in the serious expression on my face. “Dad, is everything okay?” he asked, concern coloring his voice.

I shook myself out of my reverie and offered him a smile. “Yeah, kiddo. Just thinking about old times,” I said, getting to my feet and stepping aside. “You ready for this?”

He nodded, his exuberance returning. “Absolutely!”

I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride when my son walked over and took my seat.

Cameron had grown into a remarkable young man, despite the ups and downs, and I knew that no matter what, he would continue the legacy of the Sons of Hell.

THE END