Page 7

I stare at the clock in the waiting room, and the hands don’t seem to move. At one a.m., I have a long night ahead. Raven left a few minutes ago, and I’m waiting for someone to come and get me once they’ve found a bed on a ward for Flakey.

Raven said he’s still having his transfusion and looks pasty but has been joking, meaning he’s out of danger.

Constant thoughts run through my mind. Have I missed something? I speak to the guy every day and didn’t notice anything wrong. He looked tired and struggled more with some jobs, but I thought he was just having lots of late nights at the bar, which is his primary job. Karen, the manager, is not famed for pulling her weight, but she deals with the business side of Stormy’s, so we keep her on. Did I miss something? Why didn’t I ask my brother if he’s okay? I presumed he’d tell me on his own.

Pacing back and forth, I’m trying to make sense of the evening, but to no avail. I need a smoke despite having given them up a few weeks ago. I stumble through the reception area to my bike and rummage through the saddlebag. There, right at the bottom, is the half-empty, crumpled pack with lighter to boot. Lighting up, I take a draw and inhale deeply, feeling the instant hit and dizzy spell from the nicotine rush. Sitting sideways on my bike stops me from falling over.

Maybe this wasn’t such a great idea.

I make my way back inside. Gonna prod if I can see numb nuts yet.

A nurse is waiting for me as I return to the waiting room. They moved him to the hematology ward or something like that. Shit, I don’t know all these medical terms.

Nursey gives me directions and I make my way to the lift. The lift is empty at this ungodly hour, thank fuck. Last thing I need is being stared at. I get to the right floor, open the door to the room, and there he is, in a room on his own. With a hot nurse taking his vitals. The dirty bastard is flirting with her!

“Well, darlin’, what do you expect? My heart rate is bound to be up, as is something else.” He smirks, pointing at the tent under his sheets. “I think I need a bed bath.”

“Do you now? I guess I can oblige.” She smiles sweetly and hits the call buzzer, and as the door opens, she turns to the orderly entering. “Jason, this gentleman requires a bed bath. Could you find me a wire brush and disinfectant [A1] [A2] please? I believe he needs a thorough clean.” Roaring with laughter, I watch Flakey blanch and his tent swiftly disassemble.

“I can’t breathe.” I’m bent over, coughing with laughter. “I like you, darlin’,” I choke out, and she holds out her hand for me to shake.

“Chloe. I’m this clown’s nurse for the duration of his stay. He’s caused me overtime already, so I’m going to disappear. But if he gets rowdy again, just ring the buzzer and ask for Jason. The wire brush and soap will be ready and waiting.” She grins at me, looks at numb nuts, shakes her head, and leaves. She sticks her head back through the door, and throws over her shoulder, “Behave, will ya? I’ll be back at three this afternoon for my late shift. You’ll have blood tests and scans in the morning, I’m sure. See you around three.”

“Man, what crawled up her ass and died?” Flakey moans. “Seriously? Wire brush, Disinfectant? She’s an evil bitch. I hate doctors, nurses, and hospital. Spring me out of here, brother, I beg you. I’m fine now that I’m topped up.” I shake my head, smirking. “Not a chance, brother. You made quite a mess of your room and nearly put Ebony in an early grave. What the hell happened?”

He looks puzzled. “I wish I knew, mate. One minute, I was giving it hard to Ebony, watching my cock disappear in her cunt. The next thing I know, I wake up seeing a bright light, thinking, ‘That’s it. I shagged myself to death and died a happy man, ready to go to hell.’ But to my disgust, a doc shoved a pipe in my arm and the red stuff started running into me. As if I hadn’t had enough of that in me already. What a waste.”

I cough. “Man, from what Ebony said, you pulled out, turned, threw up a load of blood, and passed out cold. She came down, screaming blue murder. Ash and Sarah ran up, monitored you, and made sure you didn’t croak. You were puking so much blood, man, it was scary. You had us worried there for a moment. And you can’t remember anything?”

“Nope. Last I remember is me having my cock buried deep in Ebony. Oh shit, who took off the condom?” His face is a picture of horror.

“I hate to tell you this, brother, but Ash and Sarah got to you first and had you in hand when we got there. No sight of a condom.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, they had me in hand? They played with my junk when I was out? I can’t believe it. My junk touched three chicks last night, and I can only vaguely remember one of them.” He groans while I try my hardest not to laugh.

“Get to sleep, man. I’ll stay here in this chair, so shut the fuck up, close your eyes, and let me get some Z’s before I smother you with a pillow.” I’m still chuckling.

“Ha, I’ll tell Chloe, and you’ll be the one on the receiving end of her wire brush. Hope your next shit is a Great Dane, you asshole,” he grumbles but closes his eyes, and within moments, all I can hear is snoring. Man, I need some earplugs.

???

During the night, I’m regularly woken by nurses seeing to Flakes. Right now, he’s being true to his name, flaked the hell out. Didn’t wake up for any of his vitals being taken. I did, and I’m ripping the head off the next person coming in! It’s only six a.m. and no chance of any more sleep in this noisy shithole. Man, I won’t be able to smell anything but disinfectant for weeks. I hate these places.

I m ust have dozed off, though I’m not sure what woke me.

“Hello, sleeping beauty. Wakey, wakey, rise and shine. I need a piss.” I jump wide awake.

“Do I look like your orderly?” I growl. “Press the God damn button, princess, or wet the bed. I ain’t helping you piss, and I’m not touching that shriveled dick of yours.”

“Nice to know you’re a helpful brother.” Flakes smirks, batting his damn eyelashes at me.

“Listen, punk, if you weren’t in that bed and connected to cables, probably a battery charger they nicked from the workshop, I’d polish your teeth with my fist right now.” I try hard to sound pissed but struggle to not smirk.

I’m glad he’s back to his mouthy self and obviously feeling better. The door opens, and a nurse and an orderly walk in, washbasin and towels in hand.

“On that note, I’m out of here.”

“No, Vegas, brother, don’t leave me with them. Wire brushing is not on my agenda today,” Flakey pleads. I give him a one finger wave and make my way to the cafeteria, in need of some chow and java.

The food is better than I expected, but the coffee is the equivalent of three-day-old dishwater. I can’t get myself to swallow this shit. Water from the cooler it is. I get back to the room and to a sulking Flakey.

“They made me whizz in a bottle. While they stood there and watched.” He’s not happy, that’s for sure, requiring me to slam my lips together to stop laughing. The door opens and in strolls Ashley. I look at my watch. Damn, it’s eight. I got to trek home, shower, and get to church.

“Morning.” Ashley smiles sweetly, and my dick wants to wave hello. I nod and tell myself it’s best to get out of here. “Gotta shoot off, bro. I’ll get one of the brothers to pop in with your phone after church.”

“‘Kay, no sweat. I owe you one, bro.” I wave at Flakey and head out the door and down to my bike.

???

Unable to reign in my dick, it got a bit of and action in the shower. Raven would put a bullet between my eyes if he knew I’m jacking off over his sister. If I was Raven, I’d shoot me too. As far as the boys are concerned, they believe me to be a hit it and quit it kinda guy. Mostly, I don’t hit in the first place, and when I do, I do so in Violets with consenting like-minded women. Ashley would run a mile in high heels if she knew what I prefer in the sack, and Raven would have me in the bunker for sure.

Shaking my head to dislodge the thoughts, I put a pot of life juice on. It should be illegal to sell that hospital. I can smell the freshly brewed aroma in my rarely used kitchen. I don’t cook, so the only appliances I use are the stainless-steel microwave and the dishwasher for my mugs. Pizza comes in boxes for a reason, so you don’t have to dirty plates. It’s nine-thirty, so I have just enough time for my java and then I gotta get my ass in gear.

I arrive at the clubhouse just in time, make my way straight into church, and take my allocated seat. We have church weekly, and it’s mandatory to attend, unless you’re half dead and in the hospital, can’t ride, or you’re in jail. Those are the only excuses which might, and that’s a big might, be accepted.

I look around. Raven is at the head of the table, with Rusty to his right and Slender to his left. Next to Slender is Pennywise, then Ferret. On the other side of Rusty is Spen, the Treasurer and Secretary. No one has stepped forward to become Secretary, so Spen does both at present. Then there’s Clusseaud, the Road Captain, one of the old guards. He held the VP patch for a while but didn’t agree with a lot of what Stone did. Instead of leaving, he stepped down and semi-retired. He can be a grumpy old sod, but admittedly, the rides he routes and organizes go off without a hitch. His experience shows.

The others at the table are Moggy, Ratchet, me, Sparks, and Zippy, then Flakey—whose chair is empty as he has a valid excuse—Dougal, and another couple of empty chairs between him and Ferret. Ferret is our IT guy. There’s not a lot he can’t do with a laptop and the rest of his setup. He’s also responsible for background checks on prospects and anyone who comes in close contact with the MC. Prospects and Nomads are not invited to church unless it’s a special occasion and they’re required. Some clubs let Nomads sit in church, but we don’t.

There are three prospects at the moment. Halfpint is closest to patching in. Eli, who is not far behind him, and Greg, who’s fairly new to us. Our prospects are exactly that, for twelve to eighteen months. Then they get either voted in, can be given an extension—not that this ever happened—or we vote them out. If you’re not in after twenty-four months, you’re out and blacklisted from prospecting for the Souls.

“Right, fellas, let’s get this show on the road,” Raven bellows into the room. Silence quickly falls around the table. “Okay, we have a few items on the agenda today. Business side to start with. Spen, the floor is yours.”

Spen shuffles his papers about. “Nothing unusual. The bike shop, Stormy Souls Customs, is pulling in good profits. The security business is booming, with Lightning Security having grown a lot in the past six months. I’ll give the floor to Slender in a moment to update everyone on progress. Ally’s is doing as great as ever. Profits are up against last month. I’m concerned, though, about the bar. Stormy’s seems to be slow of late. Unfortunately, Flakey isn’t here to give us his thoughts, but the profits have been down three months in a row. It’s something we need to investigate. Maybe it needs a remodel? There are admittedly nicer places to get a beer in town.” A few nods go around the table, and Raven looks deep in thought at that announcement. Spen continues.

“Zippy, have you looked around for a building for that tattoo shop yet?”

“I’ve had a look around and there are a couple of places that might work. I’ll get you the details after the meeting.” Spen nods at Zippy.

“All subs are up to date, no fines, and we have a healthy bank balance. Healthy enough to invest some of our earnings, to keep it growing.” At last, the boring portion of the meeting is done with.

“That the bar is not doing well doesn’t sit right with me.” Raven looks thoughtful. “I’ll have a word with Flakey when I see him later tonight, see what his thoughts are.” Agreement is nodded all around the table.

“Settle down,” Raven commands over the murmuring brothers, and silence once more resumes. “There’s a few other important things. First, I want to put it to the table that Dawg has approached me and the officers about patching in. I’m more than happy to have him. He’s a good brother, but I need a unanimous vote on this. Does anyone have anything they would like to say on the matter before we vote?” Dougal is the only one.

“He’s a great guy. I find him trustworthy and very loyal. His old lady fits in well. I think he’d be an asset, especially with his security experience.”

“Right, let’s get to it then. I’ll start the vote with a sound aye.”

Rusty echoes, “Aye,” as do all the other brothers around the table.

“You got the rocker?” Raven’s eyes land on Spen.

“Sure.” He grins and hands the rocker to Raven.

“Best call him.” Slender nods and gets his phone out.

“Dawg, we need you at the clubhouse, urgently, man. Shit is going down,” he says and hangs up, an evil smile on his mug.

“Okay, while we wait, let me just make sure we’re all very clear on how we act toward our women and guests at parties. There will be no skirt lifting, no intimidation, no unwanted attentions. This is unacceptable. We treat our family members with respect here. Any more complaints about this behavior, boys, and there will be dire consequences. I’ll kick the next brother’s nuts myself and then hand him over to Slender and Pennywise. Do I make myself clear?” Raven is clearly pissed off and wants it to be known. We all give him a chin lift. “I also think we ought to thank Sarah and Ashley for what they did for Flakey until the paramedics arrived,” Raven adds.

“What do you want me to do? Send flowers or some shit like that?” Spen asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Nope,” Raven says, popping his ‘p’ decisively. “I reckon we’ll take up a collection and ask Ally to get them some spa voucher or something like that. That’d be more their style.” Ferret gets up, goes into the bar, and gets a pint glass, putting it on the table and stuffing a twenty in. We each open our wallets and stick what we can in the jar.

“Make the rest up out of club funds if needed,” Raven tells Spen, who nods and takes notes. We all hear the loud rumble of Dawg’s Harley. He bursts through the clubhouse door, gun in hand, ready to protect the brothers. We all smile. Looks like we made the right decision.

“What the fuck,” he mutters and holsters his gun.

“Dawg, how good of you to join us,” Raven shouts.

“What’s on fire? Who do I need to kill?” Dawg shouts across.

“Get your damn ass in here, before I fine you for being late,” Raven breaks into a wide grin. “Welcome aboard, brother!” Dawg smiles from ear to ear, then back slaps each brother around the table.

“Thanks, brothers, you won’t regret it. Looks like I’m finally home.” He takes a seat in one of the empty chairs next to Pennywise.

“Patch-in party!” Everyone is shouting and getting boisterous.

“Shut your mugs!” Raven hollers. “Let’s get this finished. Then we can party.”

“Clusseaud, where are we with the planning for the Restless Slayers rally?” Clusseaud stands and hands out copies of a roadmap and a copy of the rally site.

“Okay, the route is planned. As you can see, the site is tent camping only. No campervans or RVs.” Everyone joins the chuckle going around the table. “Prospects will drive the van as a support vehicle, with all our gear and spares. They’ll act as sweeper crew as well. Make sure your bikes are shipshape. I don’t want to see a recovery truck with one of ours. Ya hear me?” Clusseaud has a real bee in his bonnet about keeping on top of our bikes. Rightly so, it keeps us safe and reduces spills to a minimum. Road rash is not a pretty sight, and that’s if you get off lightly after a spill. I’m in no mood to be scraped off the tarmac, so my bike is in tiptop condition.

“You can see the site there. I marked our space, which is adequate for all our tents and gear. We’ll park the van at the side, with access to beers and water for coffee in the morning. Prospects are on food duty, fetching and carrying, and on security of our space when we’re making the rounds or we’re at the stage. There’s a great line-up this year. And for either the brave or idiots, there’s a rock karaoke.” Snorts of laughter erupt.

“Set off is at lunchtime, three weeks on Thursday, to get us to site for the evening. We’ll have spotlights and a generator in the van to make setting up in the dark easier. All gear must be at the clubhouse Wednesday evening before, to be loaded. Tents are here, you just need to pack your personal stuff and whatever you fancy kipping on. No, club bunnies do not count as a mattress. Members, old ladies, and invited guests only. We leave at one p.m. sharp. Make sure the businesses are covered, this is a mandatory run.” Clusseaud finishes through the sniggers and teases in the room.

“Great stuff, Clusseaud, thanks.” Raven nods in his direction. “Okay, now the long-awaited update from Slender and Pennywise.” Pennywise sits up straighter.

“Okay, so Lightning Security is doing really well. We have several new contracts. The club in town we looked at a few days ago wants to go ahead. It’s a full security install, including cameras and systems. That’ll make good dough. We need to expand on the security personnel side as well. We have more inquires about bodyguards and general supply of door staff. I want to ask Dawg, are all your certifications up to date? You got your concealed carry and all that jazz?”

“Yup, sure have. Do you need me?”

“We sure could use you, Dawg, unless you want to work somewhere else.”

“No, I’m happy with security, Slender.”

“Okay, see me tomorrow morning and I’ll fill you in as to what’s going on and we’ll set up a schedule for you. Pennywise will sort you out with ID and everything else you need.” Dawg nods.

“Any other business?” Raven looks ready to stand.

“Yes, I need help. I can’t do the two roles,” Spen pipes up. “I’m doing the books for the clubs and the businesses as well as being Secretary. With the businesses growing, it’s a full-time job. I nominate Dawg to become Secretary. I know he did well with it in his old chapter.”

Dawg groans as if in pain. “Oh, please, no, not again!”

Raven snorts and asks, “Anyone second?”

“I do,” Rusty responds, smirking.

“Okay, I need an eighty percent vote on this. All in favor say aye.” The ‘ayes’ go around the table, and there’s only two nays, one from Dougal, who knows Dawg hates the job, and one from Dawg himself.

“Successful vote. Dawg, do you accept?”

“Not as if I can say no, can I?” Dawg grouses, and Spen shoves over the records and smirks.

“You can record your own vote now. Thank fuck that’s off my hands,” he gleams, rubbing his hands. That finishes the meeting. Dawg suggests that as everyone is back at work in the morning, to move his patch-in party to the rally, which all brothers are more than happy with. Everyone gets either to the bar, with a bunny or heads home, if they live off site. Sparks gives me a wave and chin lift before he kicks down and opens the throttle.

Raven catches me on my way out. “Hey, Vegas, hang back for a moment and come to my office.” Oh shit, what have I done now? I’m wracking my brain to try to come up with whatever I’m going to get my ass chewed out for but I’m failing.

“Close the door.” Raven looks beat. “Is there a problem between you and Rusty?” he asks. I’m confused.

“Why are you asking? I don’t like how he treats the women, club family or not. It makes me mad, and I’m seeing red. If he isn’t being a shithead, I have no big issues.” I look Raven straight in the eye as he rubs his stubbled chin.

“What went on yesterday is not acceptable and Slender is dealing with it. Just please do me a favor and don’t start anything with Rusty. Just try to stay out of his way.”

“Yeah, boss, no problem there.” I smirk at Raven. “Look, Prez, if you need something, just say and I’ll help if I can.” Raven opens his desk and brings out a bottle of Maker’s Mark and two glasses. Passing one measure to me, he leans back in his chair.

“I’m worried about Flakey. I hope they get to the bottom of what’s going on with him soon. How was he last night?” Unsure of what to say, I decide to go with the truth.

“He looks like shit, been tired all the time for a while now but hasn’t asked for help. I don’t think Karen is pulling her weight. Make sure you ask him about that. I know a guy, the hanger-on, Neil. He’s been around for years. He doesn’t want to join the club, but he’s loyal. I know he has managed a cocktail bar in Reno before he moved this way. He might want a job at the bar to bolster the staffing,” I suggest.

“That could work. Let me get with Ferret, get a background check done, and speak to Neil. He’s a good guy. I like him. Did Flakes say anything to you? How long has he been feeling off? I feel guilty for not noticing.”

“I asked myself that same question yesterday, Prez, and he never complained or let on. Hopefully, the doctors will put him right. If the nurse doesn’t get him first with her wire brush.” Raven throws his head back, roaring with laughter.

“Do I really want to know what he did to annoy the nurse?”

“Nope.” I pop my ‘p’ and wink at Raven.

“Okay, Vegas, get gone. I’m gonna shoot by the hospital before I go home and get some shut-eye. Took Nathan to college this morning at godforsaken o’clock. Can you arrange a schedule for hospital visits next week?”

“Sure.” I nod in his direction and make my way to my bike.