Tank was sprawled on one end of a beaten-up leather sofa, Jayce at the other end. His Prez was focused solely on Trinny, and he couldn't fault the guy for that. Seeing her walk through the door again had been surreal, and when the kids screamed "Uncle Tank!" and all but tackled him to the floor he got a bit teared up. He'd really missed the rug rats, so he'd let them climb all over him like they used to, even though it seemed like Jayce Junior had grown a foot and gained about twenty pounds.
The president of the Nomads, Guido Portelli, made his way over with a beer in hand and slouched into the center of the sofa with them, tipping his bottle back before saying, "The two men I need to talk to."
Tank tore his eyes off of his woman to study Guido's profile. He wasn't looking at either of them; he was surveying the room.
"You got troubles?" Jayce asked, casual. It was surprising that this man would bring business to them like this, but Tank knew their arrival had been delayed for a few hours. He likely intended to hold an audience with Jayce before the celebration started.
"No troubles. Just ... a proposition."
Now Tank leaned forward, elbows on knees, and rubbed his chin. "Is this a proposition that'll get us killed?"
Guido's laugh was boisterous. It drew the attention of a few people, but it was a party. Plenty of people were laughing. "Christ, I hope not. Good proposition. I promise."
"You want to go to the boardroom?" Jayce offered.
"No need. Just something to consider next time you're at the table. The word about the Sachetti contract got around. A million dollars that you turned down, Jayce?"
Tank and Jayce exchanged a look.
"I ain't mad. Trust me. I just want to point out that it was our guys that caught that asshole and handed him over. Hell, even a quarter of that reward would have been great."
"There was a bigger picture," Jayce cut in. "We can either get paid once or work for the guy."
"No, I get that." Guido honestly didn't sound pissed. "And we were closest to the airport when that prick showed up on the radar. I would have done the same thing."
"Plus you owed us a marker," Tank added.
Guido gave him a wide smile. "I said I ain't mad. I'm just saying, maybe with the Sachettis as the new employer here, there may be a need for more manpower. I'm offering the Nomads."
That was a bit unexpected, but money was money.
"Not sure the Sachettis would go for that," Jayce said diplomatically. Tank knew another club wouldn't be trusted. Sachetti would be pissed, actually.
"And here's the proposition for the table," Guido went on patiently. "Nomads patch in as a nomad chapter of the Red Rebels. We pay our dues to you, we have your clubhouse to crash at when we're around, which we do anyway."
Tank was stroking his beard again. It was certainly intriguing.
"We're celebrating your old man officially starting this club fifty years ago," Guido went on after swallowing another mouthful of beer. "You've done things your father never thought to do. Like turning down that bounty for contract considerations. That's forward-thinking, not something your old man was known for. And he never got a second chapter going, either. We both have friends all over the coast and enemies. But you got more friends than we do."
Appealing to Jayce's need for a legacy would normally be a smart move, but his Prez's attitude lately didn't need ego-stroking. Jayce was still club first, community second, family third, and he placed himself somewhere behind yard work and trash collection. He wasn't a self-centered man these days, just an angry man with revenge as his main focus.
"It's interesting. And it would be handy to have the transport help. Especially if we ever have to head up further north than LA. That's a long run."
"We live on the road longer than anyone," Guido pointed out. "We wouldn't have it any other way. And if any of our guys felt the need to put down roots, I know this is the kinda place they'd head. And if any of your guys feel restless, they'd be welcome."
"How'd the hit in Cabo go?" Jayce asked. He wasn't changing the subject; that was what Knuckles had been riding with them for. That skinny bastard wasn't only coldly lethal, he was stealthy too. Plenty of the recently deceased persons to cross his path had never even seen him coming.
"Perfect." Guido confirmed Knuckles' account of things. "I don't know how he does it. The coroner ruled it a heart attack."
"Can you tell me what it was about?"
Guido shook his head and gave Jayce a knowing smile. "Normally, I'd love to. You know that. This is cartel shit."
"If you patch over does your cartel shit transfer with you?" Tank was nervous enough about the mob. He really didn't like cartels.
"Not at all. These guys keep us at a distance for a reason. It can't come back on them. Of course it's suspicion and conjecture, but that's all it is."
"They kill people over rumor and suspicion," Tank pointed out. "It's easier to bury people than figure out who actually wants you dead."
"If the patch-over happens, cartel jobs will be voted. Right? They bring it here, you either dispatch us or you don't. I just want the regular payday of running guns, man. People always want guns. You can't go broke with that shit."
Tank and Jayce were quiet. Guido was right; going after mob money was big. Jayce's dad never would have accomplished that. The mob felt "big enough" for Tank. That was an okay peak.
"I read the papers, man." Jayce eventually said. "It was buried on page six but I saw it. The guy he hit was a small-time player, ran a dozen dealers in Mexico City for the Castillos." Jayce leaned closer. "He had a wife and kids."
"We made sure they were gone," Guido snarled back, keeping the volume low.
"Who hired the hit?"
"I can't tell you," Guido replied evenly, eyes on the room again. "Honestly, Jayce. It's better you don't know. But the guy wasn't a nice guy. He was an asshole to boot. Don't lose sleep over that prick, I beg you."
When Jayce had told him the work Knuckles had carried out on his sojourn, Tank damn near got sick. That was dangerous shit, so that was why Tank wasn't saving Rose's friend at the moment. The guy deserved some high-class strange. If he'd known ahead of time, he never would have loaned the guy out to the Nomads.
And he hated thinking of Knuckles like a crock pot, but the guy did have a unique skill set that he was happy to indulge in from time to time. It made him good money too.
"I'll take the patch-over to the table," Jayce agreed. "Personally I like the idea. I'll let you know how the vote goes."
"It's usually a vote to accept a new patch on your own back, not to give it to another chapter," Tank joked. "This is quite a year of firsts."
"Pleasure, gentleman," Guido bade them farewell. "I see a brunette that looks like she sucks cock pretty good. So we'll test that theory."
Tank gave him a nod as he got up and headed for the group of women Jayce and Tank had been watching. For a minute he thought he should have put a sign on Rose that said "Taken," but Guido had his sights on Jennifer.
"Easy," Jayce chuckled, sipping on his own beer. "Everyone saw you with your hands all over your girl earlier. Message received, loud and clear."
Tank grinned and took a pull on his beer as well. Then he nodded to the girls again. "How's Trinny?"
Jayce shrugged. "We're ... talking. Not about anything that actually matters, but it's better than silence."
"It's good to see the kids again, man. I know they're here pretty regularly but ... it ain't the same. Is it?"
"No, it's not." Jayce took another drink. They were doing the guy thing where they talk the heavy shit up without looking at each other. "Libby's fine. She doesn't know why they can't stay here. I don't think she even remembers Trinny being in the hospital. But Junior does. He gets quiet when I drop them off or when I leave Tacoma. I'm so fucking glad they were out of the house when that shit went down."
"I thought you were nuts building a fucking escape tunnel. Thank Christ you did, man."
"Yeah. It had been Trinny's idea originally. I w
as of the same mind as you but ..." He let that trail off, and they both watched the women folk.
"You think she'll stay?"
Tank knew who he was talking about, and he bristled at the question. "Yeah, she will."
"Tiny checked out her resume, man. She runs. She stays somewhere a while and then she's off again."
"We've talked about all that. I know why she does it. It's not something she needs to worry about with me." Rubbing his hands on his thighs helped relieve his need to run his mouth off in anger. "Only her and I know what's really going on here."
"I know, man."
"She's not just another one. She's more than I deserve, and I know it. For some reason she's decided she likes me, too, so I'm not fucking around with that."
Jayce smiled. "Knuckles is so pissed off that this is turning into a family-afflicted club."
Tank chuckled. "Tough shit for him. He likes kids, anyway."
"You thinking of kids already?"
He couldn't help it; he grinned at the thought. "Haven't discussed it but ... the thought of her having my kid? You kidding? That would be the highlight of my life."
"Well shit. Lookit you, all grown up and shit."
Tank swung an arm out and jostled his shoulder. "Fuck off."
Chapter Thirty-Three
"I don't know. I don't get the biker thing."
Rose grinned at Gloria over the rim of her glass. "What about the biker thing?"
Her friend shook her head, hand on hip, unimpressed. "They're hairy. Obnoxious. I don't think I like tattoos."
"Lucky for most of us we're not here solely to impress you," Rose pointed out.
"Even Jennifer seems fooled," Gloria went on, chin nodding to the bar where a large, dark-haired Latin-looking biker was leaning in next to her, incredibly interested in something she was saying. "Although, I could excuse the tattoos on that one." She outright pointed, which was rude but that was Gloria.
Next to Rose, Gertie snorted. "Big guy? Long-sleeved shirt testing the cotton with those biceps?"
"Mmm hmm. He looks ... cuddly."
"He's not interested," Gertie laughed, watching the group of men with the fellow Gloria had her eye on.
Rose had to admit; he was a looker. Dark-haired with that funky undercut, smoothed out on top and tailed in the front like an old-school pompadour. His tattoos were numerous, visible everywhere from behind his ears to his fingers to the tender skin inside his arms. And he was burly like a lumberjack.
"He's not, huh? He just hasn't met me yet."
Gertie put a hand on Gloria's arm. "Believe it or not, he's gay."
Gloria's eyes bugged out, and Rose likely had the same reaction. "What?" Rose asked.
"Bullshit," Gloria said at the same time.
"He's a tattoo artist. I work in his shop, and he's my friend."
"There's no way he's gay." Clearly Gloria was of the never say die mindset.
"I slept on his couch for a few months when I first got out of rehab. Believe me, he's gay."
The rehab was thrown in so casually she nearly missed it, but it tripped Gloria up. "Wait, rehab?"
"Gloria," Rose scolded. She knew the intricacies of Gertie's past, at least the basics. They weren't kidding when they said these men were gossips. But she had no idea if Gertie was that keen to discuss it at length.
"It's okay," Gertie broke in with a nod. "I had some issues. Then I had a near-death experience that straightened me out before it got too bad. I was lucky."
They continued surveying the room, sipping from their highball glasses and just keeping company before Gloria found something else she liked. "Oh, right there. See, that brand of biker I could get on. The light jeans, white T-shirt. Dark hair to his shoulders. Now that is man candy right there."
Rose nearly snorted out her vodka and Coke at that.
Gertie gave a delighted laugh. "Keep looking, Stretch," she mumbled.
"Not him, too? Is this the only gay biker hangout in California?"
"He's not gay, trust me," Gertie said with a slow smile. Rose noted that Buck was staring back at them, and she recognized the look on his face. These boys didn't bother hiding their moods.
"He's looking at us like he's interested," Gloria insisted.
"You're so clueless."
"That one's mine," Gertie cut into Rose's muttered declaration. "His name's Buck, and he's as hot as you think he is." Then she left them to cross the room to her man.
Rose had to smile as Gertie drew closer to her mark and he got up from his seat with a wide smile, immediately putting his hands on her in a possessive but affectionate way. They shared the kind of look that made a person think it was time to clear the room to give them some alone time.
"Damn," Gloria mumbled, swirling the ice in her glass. "Lucky bitch."
Rose sought out her own hot piece of ass, catching sight of him in a dark corner of the room on a sofa next to Jayce. She shot him a smile, which he returned a bit more cockeyed than normal. She suspected her teddy bear of a man was getting drunk.
"I like how you look at him," Gloria said softly, intruding on her thoughts.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I can tell he's making you happy. And that's awesome. You should hold onto that. No matter what else comes with him. And Darius was never this good to you. He never looked at you like that man does."
"I know."
"I like that goofball."
Of course she didn't need her friends' approval to love anyone, but she was glad to have it. That made life easier, and made it seem like whatever this thing was with Tank was becoming more and more sustainable, tangible. More real.
"Um, can we have everyone's attention please? Spaz, turn that shit down." Buck's voice cut through the recorded music playing through the speakers and the conversations throughout the room. Even Jayce's kids fell quiet, sitting at a table with Trinny and Jolene playing some kind of board game.
When they had their audience's attention, Buck and Gertie shared a smile, then Buck wrapped her in a hug from behind, grinning as she blushed from the attention of the room. "So back in August I know we all enjoyed some time in Sturgis. And our last day there Gertie and I went off on our own and ... we got hitched."
The room got quieter than quiet, then Jolene broke it. "You gotta be shitting me!"
"That's a bad word!" Libby shrieked, making the room cut up.
"We wanted to keep it quiet for a while, kinda like we were on a honeymoon only we really knew about," Buck went on. "So we made good use of our time alone."
There was a lot of male, red-blooded laughter at that which made Gertie turn from pink to red.
"And this gorgeous wife of mine brought home some amazing news for me the other day. As it turns out ... she's pregnant."
There wasn't even a pause. The room erupted in applause and shouts of excitement, and Rose felt herself run flush with happiness for them, too. All the horrible shit Gertie had gone through, worse than anything she could think up and wish on her worst enemy ... Well, to look at her now, you'd never know. The woman was glowing and gorgeous and ridiculously, happily in love.
The couple were immediately engulfed by men in leather kuttes, slapping Buck on the back and kissing Gertie's cheek or outright hugging her. No one hugged her tighter than Knuckles. Then the women moved in, Trinny beaming as she hugged Gertie. Jolene was sobbing.
Rose herself felt her eyes grow wet, and she turned away before it could turn into something uglier just to see Gloria wiping her eyes, too.
"Are you crying?"
"Shut up," Gloria sputtered as Brown Eyed Girl came on the stereo loudly.
"Why are you crying?"
"I changed my mind. I like these hairy, unwashed brutes."
Rose put her arm around Gloria and gave her a squeeze. "If I stay here, I want you to still visit me."
"Of course. And we won't leave it for so long next time."
Rose wasn't sure she believed that, but she nodded anyway. "Okay. It's a deal."
"Co
me on English, this is dancing music."
Her stomach flip-flopped as Tank appeared at her arm, taking her hand so gently she barely believed he was capable of such care. She grinned and handed her drink to Gloria and let him lead her to the floor. He started them into a basic two-step, but there was nothing basic about his skill. He was very good.
A couple spins and back-spins and she was laughing, having more fun than she could remember in a long time. He sang the lyrics into her ear when he had her close and she had to join in for the sha la la la la la la la ti das. Then Van Morrison turned into something a bit slower and he kept her in his arms, falling into a slow sway that was just as wonderful as the last dance had been.
"You do like dancing," she noted and he grinned in that slightly drunken way.
"Told ya."
"You're very good."
"You're better."
"It's sexy when a man likes dancing."
"Not as sexy as you when you dance, English."
She rested her head on his shoulder, letting him lead whatever this shuffling was. It was still rhythmic and he was a strong lead, so she wasn't worried about running into anything. "Are you happy for Buck and Gertie?" she asked.
"Over the moon. They could do with good news."
She nodded. "You like kids, don't you?" She knew he did. She saw Trinny's kids basically attack him the second they saw him, and he’d laughed and let them both climb over him like a human jungle gym for about an hour before Trinny asked them to give Uncle Tank a break. She was already in love him; seeing him with those kids was more than she could really take.
"You like kids, English?"
She had to smile. Most people, having heard about her abortion, would assume she never wanted them. But she did like kids a lot. It had just seemed out of the cards as a dancer. She didn't want to put her body through all that, and now she was almost thirty, and they say the longer you wait to have kids the more likely you are to experience complications—
"How old is Gertie?"
"What? I'm not sure. Around thirty-five, I guess. Why?"
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