In Search of Solace (Rebel Wayfarers MC)

by MariaLisa deMora

  His question was enough to trigger the reaction he’d expected, as Vanna, Peaches, Sharon, and a half a dozen more women moved around the room, vacating seats and plumping pillows for her to sit on. He passed her off into Vanna’s capable hands and backed out of the room, Myrt’s gaze sticking to him until he turned to head out of the house. The woman’s longing look slayed him, and he knew an image of his Myrt staring at him with love in her eyes would stay with him.

  The major players in what was going to go down today had all come together in a circle off to the side of the house. At a gesture from Blackie, he angled in that direction, coming to a halt a reasonable distance away, standing at his president’s left shoulder.

  “Bane, a steady member of the Freed Riders, and one of my most trusted.” Blackie lifted a hand and indicated the place next to him, and Bane stepped into the space created as if by magic. “To your left is Retro, president of the Bama Bastards.” Bane nodded, holding his tongue. He was well acquainted with the master of information, having called on him more than once in the past, both before and after joining the FRMC.

  “Good to see ya, brother.” Retro reached out and Bane met him halfway, clasping each other’s wrists in a warrior grip. “Well met and all that jazz.”

  “You as well.” Bane was careful with his words, not sure what the BBMC had to do at this party, but the man was in bed with a number of clubs across the region, so possibly it wasn’t unexpected Retro being called in to witness whatever was going to happen.

  Blackie continued the formal introductions. “Next around the ring is Twisted, president of the Incoherent. Next to him is Wrench, who holds the same position in the Caddo Hobos.”

  Bane cut a glance at Blackie, verifying his spiel was complete before stepping into the empty ring to meet the two men. Each had a firm handshake followed by a quick pound of his shoulder. Not a full embrace by any means, but then again, they represented the competition for many of the FRMC money-making schemes. Relations between the clubs were cordial but not effusively friendly.

  He returned to his assigned position beside Blackie, looking to his president for his next cue.

  Blackie gestured towards the near side of the circle, to his immediate right. “You know Mason, Rebel Wayfarers president and then some, and next to him is Gunny, someone you have a more intimate knowledge of.” Noise across the circle pulled Bane’s attention to Wrench and Twisted, who were fighting back smiles. “Fuck you both, not that kind of knowledge. Ain’t no carnal goin’ on, unless I’ve misread everything about Gunny.”

  “No offense taken or anything, but the dude’s not my speed.” Gunny grinned suddenly, the expression lightening his face. “And do not say a damn thing to my old lady. Sharon’s got a kinky bent since Josh was born. I don’t need the two of you putting any fuckin’ ideas in her head.”

  “Not a word from me, brother.” Wrench laughed softly. “But just sayin’, you’re missin’ out, man.”

  “Back on track here, please.” Blackie scowled at both men, then turned his glare on Bane. “And next to me is Skyd, president of the Freestone County charter of the Iron Riggers.” He thumbed over his shoulder. “Seconds and more are spaced out around the place, ensuring what happens here is held close for now.”

  Bane nodded at Skyd as he stepped towards Mason, needing to complete the greeting process in the order Blackie had introduced the men. He didn’t understand the process yet, but he knew Blackie, and there was nothing the man did that was accidental. Mason met him more than halfway, lips curled in a grin as he went for the open arm hug, pulling Bane into him, chest to chest as they slapped and pounded each other’s backs. He stepped away and Gunny was there, yanking him close for a space of three breaths.

  “Best motherfuckin’ backup I’ve had in a long fuckin’ time.” Gunny left Bane and went to stand in front of Blackie, posturing in a way that didn’t make sense. “Never met a man who thought over everything with a plan to manage alone, and then could easily take on a second pair of hands the way he did. Man to be proud of, this one is.”

  “I know what you’re talking about. Love the man like a brother. Pull him into all major decisions, because when a deal’s goin’ down, a good leader always wants to bring their best to the table. So yeah, I know the man’s a good’un.” Blackie closed half the distance between himself and Gunny, holding his ground with a snarled, “But I’m still not sure I fuckin’ like you.”

  “Likewise.” Gunny’s shoulders lifted with a sigh. “Vanna Mom vouches for you, which puts you on the right side of the line for me.”

  “Why didn’t we get this out of the way yesterday when I got here?” Blackie shook his head, looking around Gunny at Mason. “He always this much of a pain in the ass?”

  “Sometimes worse.” Mason’s tone was easy, amused even, and Bane looked at the exchange between the two men with different eyes.

  “Love you, old man.” Gunny held out a fist, then spread his fingers wide. “Don’t know what I’d do without ya.”

  Blackie slapped his palm on top of Gunny’s, wrapping their hands in a firm grip. “Bring it in, big man. Missed the fuck outta you. Need you to come see us more often.” The two men embraced, clinched tight by their clasped hands, arms spread across shoulders. Blackie muttered something into Gunny’s ear that made the man laugh, and then they were stepping back, the made-up tension gone as if it had never happened.

  “Well, if you’re done now.” Bane stepped behind Gunny to approach Skyd. They’d worked together on a number of runs and ironed out issues between the two clubs, so he wasn’t surprised with the welcoming grin on the man’s face. “Good to see you.” A couple of pounds on his shoulder, and he broke away, returning to his place next to Blackie. Gunny had shifted Retro around and was now standing to Bane’s left. The changing dynamics of the positioning spoke loud and clear about what Gunny thought, literally putting himself at Bane’s back if needed.

  “So…?” He looked at Blackie to see all the humor had fled, the regret back in spades, the most prominent emotion visible. “What’s up, Prez?”

  “What’s up, he asks, like it’s no big deal.” Blackie cast a glance around the circle, then settled his gaze on Bane, turning so he squared up to face him. “What’s up is your future. I’ve heard all kinds of plots and plans from every man in this group. You’re a hot commodity, seems everybody wants to get a lil’ bit of the Bane pie. What I want—” He thrust his thumb against his chest for emphasis. “—is to hear from your lips where you are leanin’ without the interference of these bastards.” Blackie nodded at Retro. “No offense to the actual Bastards.”

  “None taken, man.” Retro stepped closer. “Witness and testify, that’s my role, not to influence.”

  “Right.” Blackie angled back towards Bane. “So, what say you? Tell us what you’ve found.”

  “What I’ve found? Okay.” Bane shook out his hands as if for a fight, and he chuckled, because in a way this was a fight for him. “I found a stretch of ground that’s not necessarily claimed by any regional dominant. One I think I could settle on with the patch on my back, go nomad and lose my Longview rocker. Not unlike at least one other member of an MC, who retained a city rocker, but that city is in another state, so it ain’t like there’s a core of members here primin’ the place for a charter. I want to move to this stretch of ground, Blackie. Prez. And I’m officially asking for a nomad rocker.” He glanced around the group of men, surprised to see only grins and smiles, no anger that he’d found a way around their bullshit ideas.

  “Well now, that’s an offer I hadn’t considered.” Bane bit back a laugh when Blackie stroked his beard, probably unaware Truck was making the same gesture, as was Twisted. “It’s an idea, for sure, but hangs a brother out without much, if any, support. Puts you far from the parlay table when needed, would have you on the road a fuckton, because that’s the nature of the nomad. You sure you wanna be away from your old lady so much?”

  Shit, I didn’t think about that.

&n
bsp; His thoughts must have been visible on his face, because Blackie chuckled. “Yeah, somehow I didn’t believe you’d be down for that, man.”

  “We’d find a happy medium, no doubt.” Bane shrugged. “Devil’s in the details, but we’d work it out.”

  “We would, but it’s not optimal for anyone. You need a way to stay stuck tight to this unclaimed stretch of ground, and the easiest way would be claimin’ it. I was considering what it would mean to draw my line in the sand with a new FRMC charter here.” Blackie’s neck twisted as he glared at Mason. “Present a strong front to our competition, so they’ll stop thinkin’ they can swoop in and scoop up our territory.” He pounded his chest with a fist. “My territory, bought and held with the blood of my men.”

  Mason’s chin rose, but he held his peace. This was rightly between Bane and Blackie, and would better have been conducted without the audience.

  “You’re looking to spread FRMC that wide, boss?” Bane shook his head. “While I love the idea on the one hand, because it appears to solve everything in one strike, what does the distance mean for support or visiting between the charters? We want to keep the consistency of the club smooth as silk, we gotta keep the churn of rides and mixing of charters. Best way to ensure no one charter goes off on a tangent is to remind them of the overriding covenant and doctrine. It’d also be fuckin’ expensive to roll up a new charter. Wouldn’t be no dues comin’ in, especially not if we’re lookin’ for men to relocate to fill the roster. They’ll have money tied up in the move, wouldn’t have any to spare for the club.”

  “You can come up with a dozen reasons not to, and I’ll find a matching number of why we should.” Blackie shook his head. “The previous idea was rolling up a support club here, which made sense because it’d be less threatening to the dominants who share the region.” He nodded at Retro, then Twisted and Wrench, ignoring Mason, who grinned at the slight. “But we can get details worked out tonight, right here. I’m warmin’ to the idea with every word. We’ve got the cash, and the folks who were gonna slap an IRMC patch on could as easily wear mine.” Blackie straightened, feet spread, and shoved fisted hands against each hip as he stared around the group of men. “I do not see a single reason why I shouldn’t plant a charter here.”

  “Seems a reasonable solution, brother.” Mason broke from his place in the circle and came to stand in front of Blackie. “We all know where we’re goin’, just a few years down the road. Don’t matter to me if it’s FRMC or IRMC planted here, and if I’m honest, your idea makes the most sense. We both know you don’t need my permission, but you’ve got my agreement.” He thrust out a hand, and Blackie took hold slowly, each move ponderous. Understandable because this was a huge decision, made quickly, and now backed by an important dominant club president. “Congratulations, brother.”

  Twisted and Wrench had their heads together, both talking fast and low, the quiet buzz of their conversation all Bane could make out. They turned as one and nodded. “Sounds like a plan,” Twisted said, while Wrench offered, “Best idea so far.”

  Blackie took in Retro’s nod, then turned to Skyd, who was grinning. “Saves me the hassle of a new charter.”

  “Sounds like we’re agreed.” Blackie turned to Bane, who shoved his shoulders back, standing tall. “We’ll settle the details of the new charter in a bit, but there’s a couple of things to get straight now.” Gunny and then Truck stepped up beside Bane, one to either side. “Mason already agreed to a patchover, but what with plans skewing slightly sideways, we might should ask him again.”

  “Aye.” Mason called without hesitation, then laughed.

  “Alrighty then.” Blackie’s beard split with a grin. “Meet your VP and SAA, brother.”

  “The fuck?” Bane spun to face the two men, feverishly studying their faces for any hint of a joke. “Are you serious?”

  “As a heart attack.” Gunny nodded. “My Sharon misses time with Vanna Mom, and this puts me closer to a couple of good friends down near NOLA. I’ll miss my brothers in the Fort Wayne chapter, but it’s time. Never thought I’d patch over, but this feels right.”

  Truck stepped closer and slapped a hand on top of Bane’s shoulder, fingers digging deep as he held tight and rocked Bane. “What you said about me being an orphan in the region was dead on, brother. I love the Little Rock chapter, but I do not like havin’ to ride hundreds of miles away from my ole lady when it comes time for church. I also miss the brotherhood, because I might have a city rocker, but it feels like I’ve been nomad for years at this point. You’re givin’ me a good reason to settle, stay in one place. We’ll build something strong for the FRMC. My oath to you, as my future president. I’ll work my fingers to the bone to help you create something to be proud of, brother.”

  “Well, shit.” He looked over his shoulder at Blackie and nodded, watching as the man’s beard split to show white teeth. “Looks like I’m patching up a grade, not patching over.”

  ***

  Myrtle

  “So you’ve decided, then?” Vanna’s quiet question stood in contrast against the controlled chaos of the kitchen. Myrt looked up to find her friend smiling down at her. Vanna nodded towards Myrt’s middle, where she had a hand placed protectively over her belly. “Keeping the baby?”

  “Maybe?” She hated how uncertain her voice was and cleared her throat roughly. “There’s a lot to think about.”

  “There is.” Vanna set a sweating glass of iced tea on the table near Myrt’s elbow. “And a little more time before the decision’s taken out of your hands. What’s keeping you from settling on one side of the line or the other?”

  “I don’t know. I waver back and forth almost as fast as a thought. It’s not like me.” Myrt lifted the glass and sipped, sighing happily when she found it the perfect amount of sweet. “If I get a couple of days where I can just be, I’m sure I’ll get back on an even keel.” Looking around, she noted again the number of women crowded into the kitchen and dining room. “How are you doing with a houseful like this?”

  “Oh this?” Vanna made a pfffft sound and flipped one hand dismissively. “Most of them are staying with friends nearby, or camping out in the field out back of the house. It’s only mealtimes we all pile in a group. Supper should have been grilled outside, but someone got a bee in their bonnet for some chicken and dumplings, so we’re all wedged in here for now.” Vanna lifted her chin and gave Myrt a tiny grin. “I do have a sidestep for tonight, though. I’m putting you and Bane in Truck’s house down the road.”

  “Truck’s house?” That didn’t make any sense; he lived here with Vanna.

  “Man bought a house sight-unseen a few years ago. Granted, it’s why he and I met, and I wouldn’t change our meeting for anything, but he can’t be trusted when it comes to real estate deals. Him and his brothers conduct beer-time negotiations, which never end well.” Tittering laughter throughout the room told Myrt that as quiet as they were being, their audience had sharp ears. “He’s been fixing it up a little at a time, and it’s not bad now, but Lord girl, you shoulda seen it when he first bought it. I ran down earlier today and opened the windows, freshened up the big bedroom. Put clean sheets on the bed and such. Water pressure is good, and it’s got an enormous tub, perfect for soaking.”

  “It’s like you read my mind.” Myrt glanced at the door, her emotions a mix of longing and anxiety. Bane had explained how important today’s decision was, and Myrt had been blown away by how much thought and consideration he’d given to how she’d feel about whichever path he chose. “How long you think they’ll be out there?”

  “Long as they need to.” A woman who’d been introduced as Peaches settled into a chair opposite Myrt, leaning forwards with her elbows on the table. Myrt wiggled around in the chair, trying unsuccessfully to straighten herself. “Girl, leave it, you need to be comfortable. Get those feet back on the chair Bane piled up for you. We’ve all been there.” She gestured towards the roomful of women. “Those long hauls aren’t always the easiest riding bitc
h, but it’s what we do for our men. We know you’re sore, so you stay where you are. We’ll take care of everything.” She held out a hand for Vanna, who walked around the table to stand at Peaches’ back. “I’ve known the man a while now, and like him. With what Vanna Mom’s said about you, I kinda like you for him. You gonna be good to him?”

  “Uh, yes?” Myrt was taken aback at the direct questioning from this stranger. She looked at Vanna, who was staring at her somberly, as if wondering the same things. “I mean, yes, I’m going to be good to him. If you knew the things he’s done for me and my family, you’d understand. He’s the best man I’ve ever met, and I’m blessed he’s in my life.”

  “Oh, that’s a good answer.” Peaches grinned, reaching up to pat Vanna’s hand on her shoulder. “She gave me a real good answer. You were right, Vanna Mom. I like this one a lot.”

  “Told ya. She’s a keeper.” Vanna turned to the front of the house, then called over her shoulder, “They’re headed in; whatever kind of church this was is over.”

  “Church?” Myrt felt off-kilter, out of her depth suddenly as she remembered the masses of men who’d been in the front yard. There was no way Vanna’s house would hold them all. Footsteps on the stairs presaged the entrance of her little brothers into the kitchen, and she realized she hadn’t seen her sister since right after getting here. I need to do a better job of being a sister. If this were overwhelming for her, after being out in the world for several weeks, she could only imagine how it must be for her siblings. “Where’s Marian?”

  Peaches leaned across the table and patted Myrt’s hand, clasping it gently, the movement seemingly symbolic. “Church is a members-only meeting every club has in one form or another. As for your sister, with our encouragement, Marian’s been disappearing into her bedroom upstairs when things get overwhelming. Gives her a safe place to decompress without fifty sets of eyes on her.” She patted Myrt’s hand again, then leaned backwards, draping an elbow over the tall back of her chair. “We’ve all been where you two are, in one way or another, honey. None of us wants to see anyone upset or hurt, and you can trust your family with us, since you’re family, too.”