by Sarah Osborn
Samson had been Fox's president for a lot of years, and had never once doubted his loyalty, but things had changed, and he was no longer the one in a position of power. His eyes met those of the younger man, and he smiled. “It might take me a little longer to get where I'm going, brother, but I can still get there.” He looked up as the waitress approached. “Two coffees, darlin'.”
“Why are we here, Samson?”
“I need you to back off the Serpiente.” Fox opened his mouth and he raised his hand to silence him. “There are people more powerful than the Freaks that want hostilities to stop. I'm just passing on the message.”
“And I'm telling you that this has nothing to do with the nomads.” Fox always was a lousy liar. “You ain't wearing that President patch anymore, brother. How about you stop trying to relive your glory days and fuck off home before you get hurt.”
“That a threat?”
“Nope.” Fox smirked, and stood up as the waitress brought over the coffees. “I've got better things to be doing than listen to this. You're way outta line, Samson. Maybe someone should you remind you what loyalty is really about.”
“Sit down and drink your coffee.” Samson glared at the smaller man. The standoff didn't last long. He may not have been wearing a President's patch, but they both knew that he commanded respect. Fox capitulated, and Samson continued. “I know about loyalty, brother. An' I know that as a nomad, that loyalty has to come with a deal of common sense. You've been on the road long enough to know that not everyone is on the level, an' sometimes people have their own agendas. Be careful which side of the fence you're on, cuz if this shit with the Serpiente blows up, people are gonna get hurt, an' questions are gonna be asked.”
He could see the conflict in Fox's eyes – just for a moment, he'd doubted his decision. “Only side I'm on is the Freaks'. I've put my life on the line enough times for you to know that.”
It was true. Fox was loyal – always had been. But Samson realized, at that point, that handing the Presidency to him had been a mistake. Fox had always been a good soldier, and had never questioned his orders. But he lacked that cynicism and downright arrogance that you needed to wear that patch. To be President, you had to believe you were right all the time, and you always had to trust your gut. He shrugged. “Just be careful who you let pull your strings.”
“Who's pulling yours, Samson?”
Samson shook his head and took a sip of the coffee. “Every fucker.”
THIRTY-EIGHT
Vince was pissed. Moretti was dead, and they were fucked. This was more than just the loss of income, though, Tiny knew. The used car lot would still earn, and if it didn't, there was nothing to stop the club from selling the land. This was something else – something that Vince wasn't sharing.
They had been in church for half an hour, and in that time, Tiny hadn't spoken. He was trying too hard to hear what wasn't being said – to read between the lines – and to figure out just who Vince's anger was really being directed at. He leaned forward and cleared his throat. “Boss, there's fifty K of Moretti's cash sitting in our safe. That's ours now. Reckon we've profited from this.”
“It could've been more, Tiny. Moretti would've made us all rich. Now we're stuck with a business that'll be lucky to turn a profit, and...” Vince took a breath. “Call Davey, see if he'd be interested in buying. We ain't car salesmen.” He slammed the gavel on the table. “Fuck it. I need a drink.”
Vince hung back as the patches headed downstairs to the bar. “Tiny, a word.”
“Boss?”
“Where's Samson?”
“I ain't sure. Why?”
“Cuz we both know that he's behind this.”
“No we don't, boss. Moretti was killed in a hit and run. There's nothing to suggest this had anything to do with Samson. Why would he kill Moretti? It don't make sense.” Tiny watched his President try to formulate a lie. Vince was tough, ruthless, and ambitious, but he'd just made the mistake of showing his hand. It was time to tread carefully, and not back him into a corner. “You're pissed, Vince. I get that. But this was an accident. Samson ain't got no beef with Moretti, an' no way would he do anything to piss off De Luca. He just wanted to hit the road again, is all.”
“Bullshit! One minute I have Vegas an' Tucson screaming for Serpiente blood, then Samson shows up and they're all for holding fire. This is his work.”
“He don't wanna go to war, boss. But I don't see what this has to do with Moretti.” Tiny could feel his President's anger. “Unless, of course, he knows something we don't.”
“I don't either, but Moretti was looking to set up business in San Diego. Maybe he was behind the attacks on the Serpiente.”
Sure he was, and the nomads just happened to be in the area. “If that's the case, we're probably better off with Moretti dead.”
“How'd you figure that, you dumb fuck? If Moretti cleared the way, Bay View would have free passage all the way from the border.”
“And every other charter would be a target. Serpiente have a long reach. They ain't exactly gonna lie down and take it.”
“Or they could pull their heads outta their asses and see an opportunity when it presents itself. I'm sick of pussyfooting around those Mexican assholes. The Freaks are bigger an' more powerful than they've ever been. If not now, when?”
It occurred to Tiny that Vince had never really been on the receiving end of aggression from other clubs. Over the years, the Freaks had had more than their fair share of skirmishes and territorial disputes, but Bay View had somehow always managed to avoid any such conflicts. They may have been the mother chapter, and significant within the club. But to their enemies and allies alike, they were too small and off the beaten track to be of any interest. Vince was also smart. He rarely used the Bay View patches to do their dirty work. That was what the nomads were for. “None of us want a war, Vince. Least of all Samson. He knows better than most what the cost can be.”
“I know that there'll be a cost, brother. Rewards, too.” Vince stood. “Call him. I want him here by the end of the week.”
“No.” Never before had Tiny defied his President. “Unless you know something you ain't sharing, Samson's got nothing to answer for.”
“If I find out that Samson has killed a partner of the club, he'll have plenty to answer for. Trust me, Tiny, he'll pay for that. I know you two are close, but if he's crossed the line, you're gonna have to look long an' hard where your loyalties lie.” Pushing Tiny out of his way, Vince headed for the door. “I've just about had my fill of that arrogant fuck.”
THIRTY-NINE
Beth knew Joe better than anyone, but, despite knowing him all her life, she didn’t really understand him. He was so unlike anyone she’d ever met that she really had no point of reference. As a lovestruck teen, she’d believed he was a tortured soul, filled with pain and anguish. She'd dreamed of finding a way to free him – of being the one who could help him to be truly happy. Even when she’d married her asshole of an ex, she’d clung to that belief. Then Amy had been born and another facet of his personality had revealed itself, and that had made her love him more, but brought her no nearer to understanding him.
She knew he loved her, because he’d told her, and Joe didn’t lie. But he wasn’t demonstrative and didn’t feel the need to remind her.
Then there was the club. It had been a part of his life for so long that she found it impossible to separate the two. Beth loved and hated it in equal measure. She truly believed that it had saved his life – that without it, he'd be just another junkie loser, like his peers in the neighborhood they had grown up in. It had given him a sense of belonging and purpose, but it had taken so much. She'd never really blamed the club for what happened to Amy, no one could've foreseen that, and Samson and Spike in particular had been the ones to pull Joe back from the brink.
Beth sighed as she lay in the darkened room, listening to his steady breathing. She'd never really understand what made her man tick, but she could read him, and she'd kn
own as soon as he'd walked through the door that something wasn't right.
He grunted and rolled over. “Go to sleep, Beth. Laying awake worrying about shit ain't gonna fix nothing.”
She turned to face him and touched his cheek. “Maybe you could help me take my mind off things.”
Joe laid his hand on her hip and pulled her closer. “Hmmm, maybe.”
His cock, pressed against her stomach, was hard, and she felt it twitch as his mouth found hers. Beth moaned and pushed him onto his back. The room was too dark to see, but as she trailed her fingers over his pecs, feeling the muscles tremble under her fingertips, she didn't care – preferred it, even. His physique would be the envy of men half his age, and as much as she liked to see it in all its glory, she preferred him not to see her. Her hand moved downward and he groaned. “Turn the light on. I wanna see you.” She ignored him and began to nibble at his nipple. “Beth, I wanna see you.” Reluctantly she reached over and switched on the bedroom lamp. Joe grinned and tugged at her camisole. “Lose this.”
“Don't you think I look hot in it?”
“I'd think you looked hot in a sack. Still prefer you naked, though.” He tugged it again. “Take it off, Beth.” He grinned as she complied. “Yeah, that's better.” It wasn't, she knew. Her stomach was too flabby, and stretch marks ran across it and her, too saggy, tits. Joe raised himself up on his elbows, and she resisted the urge to hide herself under his scrutiny. He frowned. “Don't like that you wanna hide yourself from me, baby.” His finger ran across her nipple. “You're too beautiful to hide.”
“No I'm not.” She smiled. “The kids put paid to that.”
“They made you more beautiful. You grew my kids in your belly, and your tits fed them. I love that they left their mark. You don't have a girl's body, Beth. You're a woman – my woman – with a woman's body, an' you're perfect.”
Any argument she might have had was ended by him pulling her down on top of him and his mouth on hers. Beth knew that he meant every word. Joe would never bullshit – he didn't know how.
Beth whimpered as his thumb brushed her clit and his fingers slid inside her. “Joe... Oh God.” She jerked, as though shocked, as his fingers found their mark. She'd never fully understand him, but Beth loved him as much as she ever did.
~ oOo ~
“Hey.” Beth wandered into the kitchen and ran her fingers through her hair. “You should have woke me.”
Joe finished wiping a squirming Imi's face and began tidying up the breakfast things. “Figured you needed to sleep in for once. The kids are fed and there's coffee in the pot.”
“Thanks. Have you eaten? I could..”
“You could let me get breakfast for once.” He put the bowls on the counter and kissed her. “I've got the whole weekend free. Thought we could take the kids out later.”
“That would be great.” She frowned. “I thought you had a run today.”
“Nah. I ain't needed, an' I'm gonna have to do the protection run to Seattle next week, an' I'll miss Luke's birthday, so I thought we could celebrate today.”
“So what did you have in mind?” Beth wrapped her arms around his waist.
He laughed. “Hadn't actually gotten as far as that. The beach, maybe.”
“The beach would be perfect. I'll make a picnic, and we could pick up a cake on the way.”
FORTY
He should do this more often. The kids were growing up fast, and he didn't want to be one of those dads that missed out. Tiny grinned as Abi and Imi 'helped' their brother build a castle, both ignoring his complaints that they were making it too girly, while Alice and Beth hunted through the surf for pretty shells to decorate it.
“Daaad, tell them it's not a princess castle.” Luke tugged on his sleeve. “They're ruining it.”
“How about we leave them to finish that one, an' we build a man castle of our own.”
“Cool. We can have guns an' everything.” Luke trotted over to the girls and retrieved a bucket and spade. “An' we gotta make it bigger than theirs.” He eyed Joe skeptically. “You do know how to build a castle?”
“Sure. I'm a world class castle builder.”
Luke nodded. “You can do pretty much anything, huh, Dad.”
“Dunno 'bout that, Lukey.” Tiny started to fill the bucket. “Pretty sure there's stuff I can't do.”
“Nah. You're the coolest dad. You can build bikes and fix cars. Ricky's dad can't do that. An' his dad drives a dumb little car, not a cool bike like yours. I'm gonna have a bike when I grow up, an' I'm gonna be a Freak like you an' Uncle Samson, 'cept I ain't gonna have a wonky leg like Uncle Samson, cuz I ain't gonna fall off my bike like he does. I'm gonna be the best rider, like you.”
“Sure you are. But you're gonna work hard at school first, right?”
Luke sighed. “School sucks, Dad.”
“I know. But so does being dumb, so I'll guess you'll just have to suck it up.”
Luke sighed again and began pushing the sand into a pile. “Grandma said you were always skipping school, an' you ain't dumb.”
“Your grandma has a big mouth. An' I reckon I'd be smarter if I'd've gone to class.” Tiny grinned as his son fell silent. Luke was like him, and it was unusual for him to talk so much. And like him, he struggled with school. He wasn't dumb – far from it – but he bored quickly, and sometimes his temper got the better of him. “Maybe I'll look around for an old dirt bike. If you manage to stay outta trouble for the rest of the year, we could fix it up together in the summer break. It'll be a while 'fore you're big enough to ride it, but building bikes is cool.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, but don't say anything to your mom.”
“Will she get mad?”
“Probably. Leave her to me, I'll bring her around.”
~ oOo ~
Alice stumbled as the waves dragged at her ankles, but she refused to take her mom's hand. Beth smiled as she bent and picked up a smooth pebble and dropped it in the bucket. Of all her kids, Alice reminded her most of Joe. She'd always focus on the task at hand, and refused to be sidetracked. She had a temper, too – something she shared with Luke and Imi – she may not have been able to communicate in the same way, but if someone pissed her off, she'd sure as shit let them know, and no one was going to push her around. She was small for her age and a little behind in her development, but she was smart, and missed nothing. All the family signed, and the kids were so fluent that sometimes they did it when Alice wasn't around. They had tried hearing aids, but Alice hated them, and they spent more time secreted in the toy box or behind the sofa than in her ears. Beth and Joe had all but given up trying to get her to wear them. They didn't help much and the few sounds she could hear seemed to freak her out. Alice was her father's daughter, and she wouldn't let a little thing like deafness slow her down.
Beth touched her shoulder. “You hungry?”
Alice nodded and passed the bucket to her mom, before trotting along the sand towards Joe and Luke. Joe looked up and smiled as his daughter approached. Beth felt her heart swell – her big tough, biker guy, was putty in his kids' hands. She sat down and opened the picnic basket. “Anyone hungry?”
Joe peered into the bucket. “You found lots of stones, Angel.”
Alice grinned and nodded.
He frowned. “Which hand did you pick them up with?” She held up her left hand. “Good girl. Which hand you going to hug me with?” She held up both hands and threw them around his neck. Joe laughed and turned to Beth. “Was thinking. Why don't you an' the kids fly up to Seattle an' meet me there? I know flying on your own with this bunch ain't no picnic, but Emma would love to see you, an' the kids love it there.”
“I'll take two hours on a plane over twelve in a car.” Beth wiped Imi's hands and passed her a sandwich. “But neither appeals much. I would love to see Emma, though. I'll think about it.”
“Just think about a night of passion in the princess house, while Emma babysits.” Joe grinned.
“Now that is ap
pealing.” Beth leaned over and kissed him. “I'll check flights when we get home.”
“What's a night of passion?” Luke abandoned the castle and took a wipe from Beth.
“It means they're going to kiss.” Abi rolled her eyes in a world weary manner. “Don't you know anything?”
“Don't know why they have to go in a princess house to do that. They kiss all the time. It's disgusting.” Luke made a face. “An' dad ain't a girl. He wouldn't go in a princess house.”
Abi's eyebrows shot up. “Emma's princess house? Are we coming?”
Joe shook his head. “Nah, we thought we'd leave you home alone for a few days. You'll be okay.”
“Daaaad!”
“Well if you promise to be good on the plane and help your mom with the little ones, I guess you could come. We have to ask Emma first, of course. She might be busy.”
“I promise. And Emma won't be busy. She likes us coming. Will Samson be there?”
“Don't think so, sweetheart.”
Luke took a sandwich and scowled. “S'gonna be too girly. I only like it when Samson's there. His workshop is way cool. Is he still away cuz he's being a dumbass nomad?”
“Luke!” Beth frowned. “That's not a nice thing to say.”
“You call him a dumbass all the time, Mom.”
It was very true. She did.
FORTY-ONE
A night of passion in the princess house had been a great idea, but the rain drumming on the roof of the trailer was keeping him awake. Tiny dragged himself out of bed, pulled on his jeans and grabbed his smokes. How the hell Samson and Emma had managed to sleep in this for over a year was beyond him. He pushed open the door and lit a cigarette. There was a light shining through the kitchen window of Samson's house and he frowned; maybe one of the kids was awake. Feeling slightly guilty for leaving Emma with five kids to take care of, he pulled on his hoodie and boots, headed across the yard and tapped on the window. “Emma? You there?”
“Hey.” Emma pulled open the door, dressed only in one of Samson's tee shirts and a pair of ridiculous socks. “You can't sleep either, huh?”
