by Jessica Joy
About ten minutes later Sawyers joined me, and Tink managed to connect with Bowie from wherever the fuck he is. “Hey ye ugly feckers. Whatche got for us?” I ask, not wanting to spoil all the work these two have done to find out what they could. I’m also hedging a bit in case my memories are tainted in some way, filling in the gaps with fantasies as my brain is trying to make sense of everything.
“Daw, you two look so cute and comfy all snuggled up together like that. I think that is my favorite part of these little clandestine meetings of ours, getting to see you two embracing you’re not so forbidden love. Warms the cockles of my heart,” Tinker says with a mocking tone, clasping his hands over his heart and batting his eyes in the most exaggerated assholeish manner possible.
“Fuck off Tink,” Sawyer says with an eye roll, ignoring the comment for the most part but clearly annoyed that he’s been woken up only to be teased.
“Ya, not today Tinkerbell. We got shit to do. What do ye have for us,” I admonish, putting on my famous Road Captain grumpy face. The two faces on the screen both look up at me and Sawyer turns his head to side eye me. There, that got their attention.
“Okay okay, I didn’t realize we were having that kind of meeting Gage. Sorry. Well, straight to business then. I’ve been doing some digging and talking with a few of the Brothers I know I can trust, and Bowie has been on his excursion as you can see,” he says, gesturing to Bowie’s grainy picture in what looks like a shithole rest stop. “We are getting a pretty solid list together of who seems to be loyal to the Club and who’s with Axel,” Tinker explains, settling his glasses back on his face and getting fully into his business mode, shoulders squaring and voice losing all hint of his usual jovial nature.
“Good. Good. What have you been able to get Bowie?” Sawyer asks, turning his attention to the other frame, where Bowie has been waiting silently.
The Thor look alike clears his throat and uncrosses his arms from his chest, leaning toward the camera as he gears up to fill us in. “I had a little sit down with Subzero last night. Our little Subby was all kinds of chatty, telling me how he was on special assignment from ‘Reaper’ to make the rounds and spread the word that everyone should come around to the new direction the Club is headed.” Bowie rolls his eyes in a rare display of drama. Not an uncommon reaction after an encounter with Subzero to be honest. “Also, that man can talk. The dipshit let me know Axel had promised him an officer slot if he helped bring the rest of the Brothers around. He spilled all of it without even needing a trip to my little fun room in the basement, or better yet, my shed.” Bowie says with a groan and sad shake of his head. “So fuckin’ boring.”
“Sorry to disappoint yer certain proclivities Brother,” I reply. Some people may be turned off, or even freaked out, by Bowie's penchant for… interrogation… But when you’ve seen and done the things I have? It’s hard to look at him without anything less than professional respect and a bit of gratitude in times like this.
“Were you able to get any other names from him?” Sawyer asks, impatience coloring his tone.
“Oh yeah, he told me a couple off the bat that were also up for Officer spots, but I brought him out to the cabin for a bit. Just to be safe,” Bowie explains, a wicked smile breaking across his features. Seriously, seeing this Thor look-a-like smiling like a kid on Christmas morning, while talking about torturing someone, is fuckin’ disconcerting.
“Do I even want to know?” Sawyer asks, showing no reaction to Bowie’s comment.
“Eh,” Bowie shrugs. “Men’s nipples are superfluous anyway.”
I can’t help but burst out laughing at the nonchalant way he lays down that little morsel of mindfuck. All things aside, Bowie’s deadpan delivery cuts through the shit storm in my head and I’m reminded why these men are part of my tribe, they’re fuckin’ nuts. Sawyer, god bless him, remains stoic as Tinker and I both attempt to recover from our outburst as Bowie sits there with a small smile, clearly proud of the way he can freak the rest of us the fuck out.
“Aw fuck, Brother. That’s stone cold. I dunno about that one… I like my nipples,” I say, the last of my laugh fading into a disturbed shudder and I lift my hand to unconsciously rub one protectively through my shirt. “They’re too fun to harm…” I mumble, still rubbing the little nub, silently promising I won’t let anything happen to it.
“Names guys, what do we know?” Sawyer snaps, clearly done humoring us and clearly not drinking enough of his coffee to wake up his sense of humor, fuckin’ walnut.
Tinker coughs a couple times, sobering quickly as he slides back into business mode. “It’s a long list, Spartan,” he says gravely.
“We need them all. Every single one,” Sawyer says, his tone hard.
“How confident are ye that we know all of ‘em,” I ask
“The ones on the list I’m sure of. Sadly, as much as I feel like it should, most of them don’t surprise me. But there are a handful of, let's call them undecideds still,” Tink replies.
“Fair enough. Get a couple you know you can trust and work on clearing that list. No mistakes, no unknowns,” Sawyer says with clear finality.
“Aye aye Captain,” Tink says with a salute before ending the call.
Sawyer lets out a groan and settles back into the couch cushions, tugging his hands through his hair in frustration. “There’s no winning with any of this. None of this is what I wanted man. Gage, what the hell did you do this morning anyway, you’re the one who called this damn meeting in the first place.”
“Aye, that I did. Well, Al and I went to the gun range yesterday for a little target practice,” I say as I start to lay out the story.
“Is this a euphemism for something that I really do not need to hear?” asks Tinker, ever squeamish about everyone else’s love life. “Cuz I saw plenty of that shit a few months ago.”
“No, shut the fuck up Tinker and listen,” clips Sawyer at the end of his patience for learning why I woke him up at the butt-crack of dawn.
“Anywho… we were at the range and someone started shooting off this hand cannon. I don’t know why it worked but it broke the dam on some of me memories,” I lead off, starting to feel uncomfortable at admitting that I lost them in the first place to these guys. “I remember seeing it, seeing when King was… shot.” The looks on their faces is a combination of rapt attention and seething anger at the death of King. I can’t blame them, King was one of the best things to happen to most of us. “I saw Axel come up behind King and shoot him in the head.”
“Fuck,” comes from all three of them at once.
“So… It’s not just Axel leading in his own way, he’s been planning this from the start,” says Sawyer, his mood darkening further.
“That makes a LOT of the gaps I’m seeing line up better,” says Tinker. “A spoofed cell number here, a few extra payments there. I chalked it all up to a transition of power but if he’s in the middle of finishing his coup, it all makes a lot more sense.”
“I guess I know a few more questions to ask now that we have more context.” says Bowie, a dark glint in his eye. That fucker is going to make someone pay dearly.
“Focus gents. We still have to play it carefully and as much as I feel it in me gut that this is true, I can’t prove a lick of it. If we want the Sons to come through this intact, we have to be absolutely sure of everything we do. I know it’ll be hard, but we’ll come out the other side stronger for it. The strongest weapons are forged in the hottest fire. We’re walking through that fire now and we will be reborn stronger and better on the other side. Check-in in a few days,” I respond soberly, turning off the meeting and closing the laptop.
“Fuck that was philosophic. When did you start goin’ all poetic on me?” Sawyer asks with an arched eyebrow and a chuckle that sounds just this side of too hollow.
“Hey, I have my deep moments ye asshole,” I snap, trying my best to sound offended.
“Deep, yeah, sure. Says the man who spent the better part of a week trying to convince me
that SuperWings is the best show ever created and is hell bent on creating an army of super children to take over the world. Sure buddy.” Sawyer laughs, patting my leg as he pushes himself up to stand, clearly trying to distract himself from the mountain of shit we’re wading through right now.
“Aye, and I stand by it! Those fuckers are building an army of Super Wings Teams ready to go runnin’ whenever that fuckin’ red jet comes a callin’,” I rant. So maybe I’ve spent too much time watching cartoons with Evan, but I dare anyone to watch over 100 episodes of any fuckin’ children’s show, in under a week, and come out the other side without conspiracy theories about toddler uprisings.
“Yeah, have fun with that. I’m gonna go spend some quality time with my toddler before he joins the revolution,” Sawyer laughs, heading off down the hall toward the sounds of a now awake Tessa and Evan in their wing of the penthouse.
I’ve always played the role of token comic relief, the one cracking jokes and making everyone laugh no matter how fucked up a situation may get. It’s my job and what can I say, I’m good at it. ‘Comes by it naturally’ as me mam always used to say. Regardless of how I may present around the Brothers, I still have a fuckin’ job to do and that is keeping this club together and keeping my Brothers safe on a mission. Like it or not, we’re in one of the most fucked up missions I’ve ever been on and I’m pretty sure we’re all a little out of our depth.
There’s one interesting turn of events to come outta all this that I never would have expected. Back home, and really since I was tall enough to see over the bar and reach for a glass, whenever I felt overwhelmed, I would have a drink, or four. I’m Irish, it’s what we do. But since Lexi and I started our movie nights, I find myself reaching for her hand instead of the bottle, needing her instead of the drink. And it’s that need that has me pushing up from the couch now and going in search of her. As I get up, I notice there is a new package on the floor by the kitchen. Walking over I see there is a little note.
Managed to find what you wanted yesterday. Thanks for the help. -Leo
Ahh, Leo must’ve been given a mission after their little shopping excursion yesterday. He must have come up while we were on the phone and dropped this off. He comes and goes so often, bringing Lexi or Tessa random odds and ends that I honestly don’t even register when he’s here all the time. Scooping up the bag, I make my way to her room to go wake my sleeping beauty. When I get to her door though I find it open and the bed empty. Huh, maybe she’s downstairs? Tossing the bag on her bed, I make my way to the elevator to go check the rec room.
I expected to find her at the kitchen counter sipping a latte or something but walking into the space it is eerily quiet and lit with a soft blue light from the giant TV screen. I make my way around the row of chairs and find my fiery angel fast asleep on the couch in front, tucked under what can only be described as a mountain of blankets and fluffy pillows.
Shit, she must’ve been so damn upset last night and came down here to watch a movie. I was caught in my head so much I didn’t even think to check on her. Leaning down, I sit on the edge of the couch and gently pull some of her hair from her face to wake her up. A soft scent wafts from her hair, Sweet and… wait. She always smells like citrus and spice, this is different. This is… familiar.
“Honeysuckle?” I whisper, gently stroking her hair as she stirs.
“Mmmm, Gage, stop giving me nicknames…” she mumbles turning into the pillow and resisting the land of the living.
I chuckle at her resistance and decide to press on. “Wake up little Alley Cat, ye’ve gone a-stray,” I give her a little shake and she cracks one eye open to start at me.
“No,” she pouts as she squeezes her eyes back shut and pulls the covers over her head.
I cackle at her playfulness, the ridiculousness of her red hair poking out of a fuzzy white blanket just too much to contain. “Get yer lily white ass up, wench,” I tease, slipping my hands under the blanket and tickling her bare stomach. She screeches and starts laughing and squirming at my touch as I pull her into an embrace.
“You’re a brute,” she teases, giving a little tug on my beard. Her eyes sparkling with mirth and pleasure.
“Yarrr… I’m a pirate,” I shoot back, squinting an eye and pulling a face.
“Uh huh…” she says leaning in, giving me a full kiss on the mouth. Her hair falls around me and envelopes me with the sweet scent of home.
“Mmm mo phráta beag, ye smell good enough to eat,” I whisper again, pulling her away from me and setting her on my lap.
Lexi gives me a bright, winning smile, clearly pleased with herself. Her look softens as she looks at me, “Feeling better?” she says gently caressing my cheek.
“I am now,” I say, taking her hand and kissing the palm.
“Wanna talk about it?” she asks softly, warmth flowing from her.
“Not right now,” I say as I cup her cheek and kiss her gently. “Right now, I wanna get ye under this insane amount of covers and get me some Slexi-time.”
“Slexi-time?” she asks, her nose wrinkling at the question.
“Snuggle Lexi Time,” I reply with a grin.
“Nope, we’re not doing that word, not gonna happen,” she retorts. “And if you’re feeling good enough to make that terrible of a joke, then you’re feeling good enough to make up for the movie I did not get to watch with you last night,” she says, poking me in the chest with a finger. I love it when she plays tough, really highlights how soft she really is, in all the best ways.
“Alright lass, ye pick the movie and I’ll get us somethin’ warm to drink,” I make my way over the kitchen and start making some of the espresso that is always around the joint. I used to drink coffee every now and then but man, this fancy stuff has kind of made me a snob. I turn back to the viewing pit and she has Down with Love up on the screen.
“Alright, lass, make some room,” I say, shooing her over a bit. She just raises her legs and waits for me to sit down under them. I would like to say that I was a gentleman and didn’t glance down at her ass coming out from her shorts, but I’m a red-blooded man and when you have a chance to sneak a peek at the goods, ya just gotta look. “Mmm,” I growl with a meaningful look.
She quirks an eyebrow back at me as she gives her hips a little wiggle with her legs still flexed up in the air together, “Yeah? Coffee first, ya hornball.”
I hand her the mug with her sweetened concoction and give the back of her knee a little kiss. “Yes, mistress,” I tease. Settling in and dropping her legs into my lap, idling tracing her legs with my free hand. As she hits play I give her leg a little squeeze and she turns to face me. “Ye done yet?” I say, pointing to the coffee.
“Watch the movie, caveman,” she smirks back. The little ass wiggle she gives me back though tells me that I don’t think we’ll make it to the credits on this one.
Chapter 18
Lexi
Well, that was dumb of me. I spent all night in the rec room and now have completely ruined my sleep schedule. I couldn’t stop worrying about Gage and that panicked look on his face at the range. It was the first time since I decided to take care of him that I had no idea what I should do for him. But, apparently doing little to nothing and letting him process was exactly what was needed. We only got about thirty minutes into the movie before his hands wandered north of my knees. He was gentle, he was slow, he was thorough, and god damn did it let me know that we’re gonna be just fine.
The rest of the day was rather inconsequential, though Sawyer and Tessa had a little fight about something. All I heard of it was “Club Business,” and that was more than enough heads up for me to stay the hell away from that shit. Something’s up with the guys, but I’m gonna wait and see what Gage does. Pushing these guys like Tessa does to Sawyer never seems to work the way you’d expect. By dinner it was all forgotten, or at least swept under the rug, and things went back to mostly normal. As I was getting ready for movie night I checked Leo’s package and, good to his word, he
found the other two ensembles that I wanted to pick up. I debated throwing one on for tonight but it just didn’t feel right, we had a gentle moment this morning and I want to roll that around for a bit.
We did our second movie of the night, something terrible about an asteroid, Die Hard man in space, and Aerosmith. It was perfect in how bad it was. Stupid, light, and distracting for the both of us. Gage did end up doing PT in the middle of day so by the time the credits rolled he was starting to doze off. I ushered him into his room and tucked the big baby in for the night. He’s really doing well all things considered, he hasn’t used his cane at all the last two days and isn’t quite favoring his arm so much. But with Gage in bed and me feeling insomniac, I decided that maybe a little less active entertainment was in order.
So, I find myself at two in the morning reading in the loft library on a fancy new e-reader that Leo tucked into my package as a thank you, trying to get sleepy. I’m only half paying attention to the novel as I page through it, just embracing the silence of the space when the sound of the elevator dinging knocks me out of my tangle of thoughts. I freeze, sinking further into the chair hoping to go unnoticed, which I belatedly realize is ridiculous because I’m in the loft and no one could see me from the main level even if they wanted to. Who the hell is coming up at this hour? The four of us are already in for the night and have been for hours, so there shouldn’t be anyone coming into the loft. Hell, practically no one can get up into this loft at all and that makes me even more nervous. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up and a tingle of unease snakes down my spine; something isn’t right.
Easing out of the chair, trying to not let the leather squeak, I melt to the floor and drop to my stomach to army crawl across to the glass paned railing. Stopping just short of the edge, I hold my breath and listen for any further movement below. The elevator is supposed to lock down overnight so in theory only the four of us and the small handful of DiMarco’s men that are assigned to our detail have access right now. Part of me is hoping it was just a mechanical hiccup or something, that’s totally a thing, right? A pit forms in my belly when I hear the soft squeak of leather soles against the hardwood coming from below. Taking a calming breath, I inch forward and peer over the edge of the loft. For a long moment, I can’t make out anything in the darkness, and just as I am about to write it off to my overactive imagination, I hear the sound of footsteps again and notice movement out of the corner of my eye.
