“So that would be why you’re chewing the shit outta that gum?” Dawg asked with a big smile just before taking a long, deep drag on his smoke.
“Asshole.”
“Okay, no fucking with the father of the year candidate,” Brick laughed. “Ya’ll know we’re going to Wyoming to visit the fifth club, the Blood Paradigm MC, and can we please leave the comments about their name out of the discussion this time.”
That had taken a good hour of the meeting before, and about half of the table had thought it was a pretty cool name, while the other half thought it was the most stupid fucking name they’d ever heard for a biker club. Which in turn, of course, meant that the room had been flooded with examples of more stupid names of biker clubs.
Tommy was on the fence about the name but had liked to hear it was a club that mostly consisted of veterans. He knew that was the kind of clubs they were looking for, and although biker clubs consisting of veterans weren’t uncommon, they were looking for the good ones. Not the ones with guys suffering severe PTSD who would attack anyone, but tough guys who’d been to war. Because they were getting ready for war.
“Are there more clubs on that list?” Bucket asked with a tired voice. “Or are they the last?”
The year before, they’d offered four clubs to become prospecting clubs, and those had been patched over. From what Tommy had understood, it was very rarely they didn’t patch over a club that prospected for them, simply since it took a lot before they even offered a club the opportunity. To do what they’d done then, and offer four clubs the chance at the same time, had never happened in the Marauders before, and the only reason they’d done it had been because it felt like they were on a clock, and possibly running out of time. There had been some talks about coming up with a name and starting a supporter club to the Marauders and have them patch over to that one, but no one had really liked that idea.
Since the Dutch Ghouls also worked with the same cartel as the Marauders did, it was all a delicate fucking mess, but the cartel was on board, too. Tommy was pretty sure they wouldn’t have agreed if the cartel hadn’t, because their livelihood—with the exception of the garages and strip clubs—depended on the cartel. So now the Marauders needed to build their club to be able to both defend themselves in the war that was most likely going to come, but also to be able to maintain the transports from the cartel to the Dutch and their other customers once the US Ghouls were gone.
They were currently transporting goods up to New York, but the Dutch Ghouls wanted the majority of the transports for them to be up to Portland later, because that was where they had their own contacts, and also because they wanted to start shipping things to Asia. That was why all the new clubs were more to the west, but it was also because the US Ghouls had most of their clubs along the West Coast or the East Coast. The Marauders were basically building a wall right in the middle of the clubs, cutting them off from each other. Tommy didn’t know if that was the idea, no one had mentioned it, but from a strategic point of view, that was pretty smart.
The clubs with veterans had been Brick’s request. In the Greenville Marauders, Tommy was the only veteran, and it had become evident that it might be a problem that they didn’t have more combat experience in the club
The Blood Paradigm, the fifth and last club, was a club Brick and Bear had suggested and the Nomad President had approached. Apparently they’d worked with them before and knew the president of the club since way back. All the prospecting clubs had been visited by the Mother charter, the charter that had suggested them, and also the Greenville club. The reason was that it was Brick who’d once, years ago, set up the deal with the cartel, so Greenville had a special standing among the clubs.
“They’re the last club,” Bear answered Wrench. “We’re shutting the door after them for a few years, at least. It’s bad enough with five clubs in just over a year. We need to find the balance again.”
The meeting went on for another hour, some of it regarding the Wyoming trip, and then it was the normal, everyday stuff, that they went though every meeting. The finances, planned runs, and visits for the coming months; the straight business things regarding the garage and the strip clubs; and some other stuff that all belonged to the category of things Tommy didn’t pay any attention whatsoever to.
“Okay, then. That was it,” Brick finally said. “Dinner on Sunday, extra church next Friday, and we roll the Monday after.” He slammed his gavel. “Go get some.”
Tommy went to his room to get his phone and give Felix a call. It had become a habit to have to hear that his kid was okay, or at least what kind of a day he’d had every day. He’d even bought Felix a phone of his own. He didn’t know how Billie felt about that, because he hadn’t told her beforehand, but she hadn’t protested. And when she picked up the phone to answer, he knew for sure that she knew about it.
“Is he okay?” he asked when he heard her voice.
“Yes. He was just really tired and fell asleep before you called. He asked me to tell you goodnight and that he loves you.”
“He did?” He’d never said that, and Billie caught up on Tommy’s surprise.
“Yeah—what?”
“He’s… never said that. That he loves me.”
“Shit. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll call him tomorrow.
“Okay. Night.”
He answered before he’d had time to think, “Lights out.”
It was something they’d said to each other when they were kids, Clyde had started it, and he almost bit his tongue, but she answered after a soft chuckle.
“Yes, sir.”
And then she hung up before he’d had time to take it back. There were a lot of reasons for the weird lump he had in his chest when he put the phone in his pocket and went out into the hallway. His kid had said that he loved him, and even if he hadn’t heard it from him directly, it still felt pretty fucking awesome.
Carmen, a pretty little Latina, was standing in the hallway talking on the phone. He put an arm around her waist.
“You busy?” he asked.
“I gotta go. I’ll call you tomorrow,” she said into the phone, hung up, and pushed it into the back pocket of her tiny shorts. “Not anymore.”
*
The next day, he picked up Dwayne at Sky Harbor, and they went directly to the Jensens’ to meet Felix.
“How are you and Billie getting along?” Dwayne asked during the drive.
“Okay, I guess.” He thought about the last time they’d seen each other. For a while there, it had been almost like old times. “It’s getting better.”
“Gotta admit, now when we’re face to face, totally jealous that you managed to go there,” Dwayne laughed.
“What?” Tommy was sure he’d gotten that wrong. “Hang on…”
“Yup. Biggest crush on her.”
“You’re six years older than her.”
“Seriously, did you not look at her when she was sixteen, seventeen? Fucking hell! And even before that.”
“Again, six years older!”
“I know. Only reason I didn’t try,” Dwayne chuckled. “She was fine.”
Tommy laughed. “Yeah, she was.”
“And tough.”
“That she certainly was,” he agreed. “Fierce.”
“Which is also pretty fucking sexy,” Dwayne pointed out. “Fuck! I remember when I was there to visit you once, and you were all in the back yard, on the ground, practicing shooting. Seriously, I had to visit the bathroom immediately. And I’m not ashamed to admit it, I spanked that monkey so hard.”
“Fuck!” Tommy laughed.
“Is she still hot?”
He thought about it, and finally nodded. “Yeah. She looks pretty much the same.”
“Damn!” They were both silent for a minute or so. “Still pissed at her?”
“I don’t know. Think I just want to know why she didn’t tell me.”
“Have you asked he
r?”
He shrugged. “I haven’t seen her much, and I haven’t asked.”
Tommy thought, or was sure, that the reason he hadn’t asked was because he didn’t really want to know the answer. He had a hunch; obviously she’d been pissed and had said some things she regretted. In a way, she’d seemed as fucked up as he’d been at the time, and he… He knew something had been going on with her. Zach had been really worried about her, and Zach had known his little sister. So something had been going on with her even before Zach died.
At the same time, he honestly didn’t think there was any reason she could give that was enough, and he didn’t want to be any more angry with her than he already was. They seemed to be finding common ground again, and he didn’t want to mess it up. In all honesty, after spending time with Felix, he was amazed by how well she was doing as a mom. Because she’d done a great job with the kid, he was… just perfect.
Billie was at home when they picked up Felix, and he had to bite his cheeks to not start laughing when Dwayne gave her a long hug. He had, honest to god, not had any idea that Dwayne had been checking Billie out. Dwayne had usually been pretty upfront with what chicks he found hot, but had never even mentioned Billie. The thought of him jerking off in Leah’s pink guest bathroom after seeing Billie practice made Tommy swallow another laugh.
“Daddy! Mommy said you called yesterday,” Felix said when he came into the hallway. “I fell asleep.”
He lifted him up. “That’s okay, Buddy.” He turned towards Dwayne. “This is your uncle.”
Felix extended his hand. “I’m Felix Jensen, sir.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Felix Jensen. I’m Dwayne Miles,” he said and shook Felix’s hand. “Tell me, Felix. What’s your favorite animal?”
Felix seemed perplexed, then he smiled. “Monkeys.”
“Good choice. They have those at the zoo. Whatta you say about going there?”
Tommy looked at Billie, and she was smiling, so he assumed that was okay.
“Yes! Can Mommy come, too?”
Dwayne gave Billie a big smile. “Absolutely.”
When Billie and Felix went into the kitchen to get some snacks for Felix, Tommy turned to Dwayne. “You better not be hitting on her.”
The only response he got was a laugh and a wink, and it didn’t comfort him at all. The rest of the day did, though, and it was great to see Billie relaxed, because she was completely relaxed the entire day, and they had a lot of fun—especially Felix.
Later that night, when it was just the two of them at a bar, Dwayne turned towards him. “He’s a great kid.”
“Yup,” Tommy agreed and took a sip of his Coke.
“I’d fucking give him both my kidneys if he needed them.”
“They only allow you to give one, but it’s good to know.”
“I’d give Billie a kidney, too.”
Tommy spurted Coke over the bar and started laughing. “What the fuck is up with you and her?”
“Think it’s just that I missed the shot, and now I find out you had it and took it. Fucking annoys me. We’re talking years of pining here.” Dwayne shook his head. “Tell me it was bad, at least. That I didn’t miss much.”
“Sorry, bro, but you missed something.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
It Hurts
oOo
THE ROE, RULES OF Engagement, were the rules for the different conditions for when a Marine may or may not fire. The conditions may change, and in extreme cases everyone can be declared hostile—a free-fire zone as it was called in Vietnam—but that was unusual. The main problem Tommy had found with the ROE was that they were based on the assumption that the enemy was following the same war code as the US. Or rather, it was based on wars as they were in the first and second World War. The modern enemies of the twenty-first century did not come in straight lines with a military green uniform, or any uniform, for that matter. They quite often wore civilian clothes. And civilians quite often had weapons to protect themselves, even to protect themselves against their own military.
In the end, the safest way to know who was an enemy was to wait for them to fire first, which of course was something of a risk—to put it mildly.
They were told, time and time again, that their actions would always be judged by how they appeared at the time, not what it looked like in hindsight. Unfortunately, Tommy knew that that was not how people tended to judge themselves, and not only for the actions they actually took, but just as much for actions not taken.
Because war, and the possibility to survive a war, was never just about your own actions. Everyone depended on their fellow Marines’ capability to cover their own sector, or to do whatever their job was. Tommy’s job had been to drive the vehicle, and if he fucked up, every vehicle behind him was in the shit. While he was driving, he had to trust that the guys in the car with him made sure he was safe to do his job. To be able to do that, they talked the entire time, calling out everything they could see. It was codependence, and it had actually never been a problem for him. He had fully trusted the guys with him with his life, just as they had trusted theirs with him. Tommy had loved the camaraderie, the sense of belonging, and the unique friendships he’d formed with people he probably wouldn’t have met if it hadn’t been for the Marines.
He didn’t need a shrink to tell him that missing that camaraderie was one of the reasons he’d joined a biker club, but he happened to know it wasn’t the only reason. He and Zach had bought their first bikes when they were eighteen after working a summer as lifeguards. Riding with Zach had been his first true whiff of freedom. It had been just the two of them, and they’d left all the shit behind them. Or rather, they’d left his shit behind them; Zach had never had much shit to leave behind.
Years later, being on the road for a long ride was when Tommy felt the most calm. And being on a long ride with his brothers around him was fucking awesome. That was when he felt at home and at ease with fucking everything.
It took them two days to get up to Wyoming, and when they arrived, the Blood Paradigm had lined up their girls outside to welcome them. Tommy knew he’d have a good time when he saw that. At lot of the Marauders were married and were pretty fucking strict about keeping it in their pants even when they were on runs, but that just meant more pussy for him. He picked up a tall blonde on his way inside the clubhouse.
“Hold off on the drinking, guys,” Brick yelled after them. “We have a meeting in ten minutes, and I want you to be able to focus. That goes for dick sucking, too. You can’t fucking focus when I interrupt you in the middle of having your dick blown.”
The last part was directed at Sisco as he passed by Brick.
Tommy kept the blonde close until they called for them, and he gave her a kiss. “Don’t go running off on me,” he said, and she nodded with a cute giggle.
The Blood Paradigm’s clubhouse looked like most of the clubhouses he’d been to. Their logo was a hand dripping in blood, holding an M16 rifle—the primary weapon in the US Military since the Vietnam War. The fact that he would spend a few days with veterans was something Tommy both liked and didn’t like. He didn’t like talking about the war, and he’d never liked talking about that—he’d even opted out of seeing the shrink as soon as they’d let him—but he did like being around people who’d been in service. They were often organized, understood the chain of command, and were loyal. He also, almost automatically, felt a bond to other veterans. Clyde had once said that there was a firm line between men who’d been in war and men who hadn’t. After having been in one, Tommy knew what he meant.
The president was a guy called Crank, a veteran from the Gulf War who’d been the president since the club started. From what Tommy understood, the Marauders had worked with them on occasion, but since they’d never been very active on the West Coast, it hadn’t been very often. The Blood Paradigm had been the first club Brick had put forward when the talks of expansion came up, but for some reason he’d held off with them. Along with the other club
s, Tommy knew they’d get the pipeline up to Portland, Oregon, without a doubt. He was more concerned what would happen once they did.
“I wanna start off by welcoming the Marauders to our house,” Crank said with a big, proud smile. “As you all know, this is just a visit. No big decisions will be made, but we’re still gonna talk about possibilities. That being said, we want you to get to know each other in our favorite way: get drunk, high, and fuck women together.”
There were spread cheers and claps around the table.
“Give me five minutes before they run off like horny high school boys,” Brick laughed. He stood up and looked around the table. “This isn’t about us pushing our ways on you. This is about seeing if our ways are close enough for us to be able to work together and eventually call each other brothers. That’s the only way to do a good patch-over—a patch-over that’ll work in the long run. That’s what we’re looking for.”
There were nods around the table.
“And if we decide that it won’t work?” one of the Bloods said, and he didn’t look all that friendly. Brick didn’t take the bait, though; he was much too smart for that.
“If that’s the way it turns out, I bet we’ll still have a few good stories to share from the coming days.” He nodded towards Crank, who slammed the gavel on the table.
“Let’s show the Marauders how we have fun in Wyoming.”
Tommy’d been standing by the door and was one of the first ones out. He found the blonde girl, who handed him a beer and took him to a table full of food. He was pretty sure he’d enjoy Wyoming.
*
By their last night with the Blood Paradigm, Tommy’s dick was getting sore. They had some nice girls, and those girls were not shy. Just five minutes earlier, he’d been forced to physically shove a girl into Bull’s arms to stop her from sucking his dick. She was currently being fucked on the pool table, and Wrench seemed more than ready to take over once Bull was done.
“I didn’t think the Greenville Marauders had any veterans,” the guy who’d spoken up in the first meeting said. He’d been sitting next to Tommy for a while, but those were the first words he’d said to anyone in the Marauders, as far as Tommy knew. “What were you?”
Resonance (Marauders #4) Page 8
