First Gertie pulled out her wallet and dug the baggies out of the cash flap, dropping them onto the table. Then she picked up her phone and once again brought up Buck’s name in her contact list. He hadn’t called her since running out the day before. She’d half-hoped to get an apology or something similar, phone call or text message. But nothing had been received. She’d called the first time. This time she’d text, a way of saying it wasn’t a big deal if he got back to her or not.
Ran into dealer again today. He had Oxy this time.
She hit send and a little thrill ran through her, then she eyed up the pills on the table. She was tempted, but his worry about the mix of the pot came back to her. She chewed her lip. It was tempting. Percocet was nice, she quite enjoyed it. But she’d never tried Oxycodone.
Gertie was pulling a bag open as her phone buzzed her back. She dropped the Oxy fast and scooped up the phone, smiling to see that he’d already replied.
If it’s orange do NOT take any.
She blinked in surprise. Immediately she replied: It’s orange. Then she held the phone and waited for him to reply again. She didn’t need to wait long.
Keep it there for me.
That was it, that was the entire reply. Did that mean he was coming over now? Tomorrow? In a couple of hours? Or whenever the mood hit him?
She fought the urge to ask when he was coming to see her. No need to be crazy. She set the phone down, turning back to her canvas. She pulled the palette closer, opening the box that held the color set. She selected the green, yellow and brown, squeezing small amounts into the divots in the palette. She wasn’t sure yet what she wanted to create, but she started dabbing paint onto the canvas and letting her brain go wherever it wanted. She settled onto a chair with her leg bent underneath her, lost to what her mind wanted her to create.
Chapter Twenty-Two
“Uncle David!” The shriek was barely a warning as twenty pounds hit him square in the back where he sat, on the edge of Jayce’s deck. Buck set his beer on the ground and leaned forward with the little squirt attached to his back, arms around his neck in a chokehold.
“You want a piggyback?” he asked Jayce Junior as he stood up.
“Yeah!”
“Take it easy on Uncle David,” Jayce warned with a fatherly tone that Buck never expected to hear from his Prez.
Trinny never called them by their nicknames, but she did use Jayce instead of Jason when addressing her husband. Therefore, the kids all called them Uncle whatever-their-proper-name-was.
Fritter had been released from the hospital that morning. Rusty was still watching over the Horton’s house, which left Fritter’s mom open to fret and fawn over her boy. That was good; it distracted her from the fact that they were being guarded by the club. She didn’t need anything else to worry about.
As long as gunmen were out and about and unaccounted for, the president and his family were also to be watched out for. So Buck was sticking close until they found out who was responsible at the very least.
Buck carried the rug-rat around the yard on his back for a good tour until Trinny came out with a couple of dinner plates made up for her kids. “Jayce Junior, supper! Let Uncle David take a break.”
With a quick maneuver Buck flipped the kid over his shoulder upside down and sent him on his way back onto the deck. Then he returned to his seat and took another pull from his beer.
All calls to the Mad Gypsys’ clubhouse had gone unanswered. Jayce left one message in all that time, telling Thor to call him if he wasn’t too much of a pussy to talk this out. No response had come all day.
Buck had his text message exchange with Gertie while Jayce watched, and Buck confirmed that the G-Town Gang was distributing the orange Oxy in the city. Best guess said the Gypsys were feeding it to Markham.
It was strange that Gertie was sending text messages. She’d been so eager to call him yesterday. Sure it sucked having to duck out on her the evening before but he’d still expected a phone call.
“Warn her not to take any of it,” Jayce instructed, lighting a cigarette.
“Yep,” Buck agreed as he replied. Jayce was chuckling as he looked up again. “What?”
“Just … go get her, man.”
Buck frowned. “Whatever.”
“I mean it. You’re grinning like a schmuck. Go see her.”
Buck shook his head. “I’m with you, Prez.”
“I can call in Tim. I feel bad for pulling your dick out last night.”
“Jayce!” Trinny snapped, setting the kids up at the table to eat on the deck right behind Buck.
“Sorry babe,” Jayce said honestly, eyes going over Buck’s head to where his wife was. “I forgot.”
Buck hid his grin unnecessarily since he was out of Trinny’s line of sight, but Jayce could see him. “I’m watching my president,” Buck insisted.
Jayce nodded, smiling. “I know. Tomorrow I’m sending Trinny and the kids to her mom’s for a while. The Nomads are in town by now, already tearing up the clubhouse I’m sure. Trinny called in extra girls.” Jayce stood, tipping up his beer and crossing the yard from the lawn chair, knocking Buck’s elbow as he stepped onto the deck. “Go have fun. As of tomorrow I have a feeling shit could get serious.”
Buck waited until the other prospect showed up, and until he cleared his plate to Trinny’s satisfaction. It was dusk as he pulled into the clubhouse lot, his parking spot taken by an out of town guest. He made a home for his bike where there was room and headed for the open door where music and voices were spilling out into the lot.
The president of the Nomads, Guido Portelli, was outside the door sharing a few words with Tank. He clasped Guido’s ham-sized hand in his own as a greeting. With a nod to Tank, Buck headed inside, the smell of booze and the sounds of debauchery already thick in the air.
Buck headed for the bar, knowing he was about three hours behind the rest of his brothers in their revelry. The girl behind the high wooden counter saw him and grinned, immediately grabbing the Jose Cuervo and a shot glass, setting them both down for him. “Enjoy Buck,” she said teasingly, running her tongue over her lower lip as she did it.
Buck grinned, pouring out a shot and holding it up to her as a toast before throwing it back. Then he poured out an ounce and pushed it towards the bartender and carried the bottle with him to the arrangement of sofas in the corner behind the pool tables.
When the Nomads dragged their mangy asses to Markham it was always extra wild at the clubhouse. Jayce wasn’t lying – Trinny had called in extra feminine distractions, who knew where from. The Rebels were usually outnumbered by women on any given night. Guys like Knuckles or Tiny or Spaz tended to take girls to their rooms in multiples. But tonight it was thick with fluffed hair, short skirts, heels and cleavage.
Buck plopped onto a sofa between a Nomad and Tiny, grinning at their drunken, enthusiastic welcoming declarations. “This,” Tiny instructed the girl straddling his lap, pointing to Buck who just nodded a hello to her. “Is my good friend Buck. His last name is Buckingham, like the castle, so his nickname is not very creative or ironic.”
Her blonde eyebrows wrinkled up, confused, and Buck snorted.
“It’s okay,” Tiny was telling her, hands working up her legs under her skirt. “You don’t have to know what ironic means, you’re too pretty to worry about that kind of thing.”
The blonde smiled, pleased that he said she was pretty. And she was, the living definition of California-pretty. Buck noted that her smile turned to a gasp and she looked startled, then he noticed where Tiny’s hands had gotten to.
“Damn Buck,” Tiny groaned, eyes on his blonde’s face. “We got a piercing down here.”
She liked whatever he was doing, her neck giving out and her head flopping backwards as she moaned. Buck felt that sound in his own groin, and he took a pull of tequila as Tiny chuckled.
“Don’t know where the new girls came from,” Tiny slurred out. “But I like them.”
“Tiny,” the blonde
was gasping, her hips rocking on his lap now.
“Right here, honey. Take care of it if you want it.”
Her hands clutched at his shoulders and she dragged her chest closer, lowering her face over Tiny’s as she cried out, almost pitiful, but from her breathing and blissed expression Buck knew she was feeling just fine. Her bright blue eyes blinked open, like she was waking up, and she smiled down at Tiny, pressing her mouth to his, grateful and promising. Even if Tiny was pushing forty.
Buck shook his head, surveying the Nomad on his opposite side. He’d watched the show, too, beer in hand completely forgotten and his arousal apparent on his face. Buck looked up, catching the eye of a brunette that was a Rebels’ regular, motioning her over. She came as quick as expected, smiling bright and eager, and Buck wished he could remember her name.
“What’s your name?” Buck asked the Nomad.
“Stump,” came the guttural answer as the brunette dropped onto Buck’s knee.
Buck smiled at the brunette. “How you feeling tonight, honey?” he asked her warmly, hand around her waist.
“Good, thanks,” she breathed back, pressing her chest into him.
“Want to make a new friend?” he asked. She just nodded, eyes running over his face to his mouth. “This is Stump,” he said, motioning to the Nomad next to him.
Stump was startled by that, looking up at the brunette while taking a pull on his beer. His eyes were on her tits. Perfect.
“Hi Stump,” the brunette said brightly.
“Let’s make Stump feel at home, okay?” Buck suggested, pushing her hair back over her shoulder and pulling her close enough to give her neck a little nip. “Favor to the club,” he said low, and she was quick to transfer her plump and firm ass from his lap to Stump’s knee.
“I’m Jenny,” she said sweetly, running an arm around Stump’s shoulders and playing with his stringy, dirty-blonde hair.
Stump’s eyes were on her chest still as he finished off his beer. He set the empty bottle down on the table, then stood straight up, popping Jenny onto his shoulder somehow and carrying her off to one of the dimmer corners of the clubhouse.
Buck watched with raised eyebrows, then had to chuckle. He was about to ask Tiny if he’d seen that but his brother was tongue-deep in the blonde’s mouth and her hands were working at Tiny’s fly. Buck knew the dorms would be at a premium tonight, and he hoped like hell he’d remembered to lock his. Group sex out here in the common area was likely going to be how it went on a Friday with the out of town guests.
With a low sigh Buck shifted over to give Tiny a bit more room, but the blonde had grabbed his arm, and Tiny had her gathered close to his chest, sucking on her neck. Heated blue-green eyes, hot with feminine lust, were trained on Buck. “You can join us,” she whispered, voice thick. He didn’t know what she was on, but she was a bit under the influence of something other than her own libido. “I don’t mind.”
Tiny’s mouth came off her neck, and he cast his eyes sideways to Buck. He knew Buck didn’t share women, other than when time and pussy had been at a premium, say on a stop-over during a run. It wasn’t something Buck specifically looked for, but some of the guys had no problem with it, Tiny being one of them.
“S’okay, sweetheart,” Buck assured her with a smile. “You’re getting more than you need with this guy.”
Tiny grinned, bringing her face back to him by grabbing her chin. “You think I won’t be enough?” he accused, biting at her lip.
She giggled, kissing him and Buck was once again forgotten.
From his spot on the sofa Buck’s eyes were on the bartender. Her hair was a mess of layers and waves, like Gertie’s. Her tight top advertised a decent rack. Her eyes were bright and shining. He decided that if anyone was going to his room tonight it was going to be her.
Chapter Twenty-Three
When her canvas was done Gertie was a bit worried about herself. The subject matter had her concerned. Concerned and restless.
Still no sign of Buck, no indication that he was coming over. Or when he intended to come over. She’d painted all day, waiting. And there was nothing. Gertie went to her bedroom, shucked her painting clothes and pulled on dark wash, skin tight jeans and black knee-high boots. She grabbed a top that was made like a corset with lacing up the front. The body of the garment was black lace, complete with boning along the bodice. She pulled that on overtop her nicest black bra, left her hair untouched and wild, and applied makeup, mostly to her eyes. Then she called a cab, and while she waited she finished off another joint and a couple glasses of red wine.
The cab driver had looked terrified when she told him where she wanted to go. First, he tried appealing to her sense of self-preservation, telling her it was a bad place to be a girl alone. Then he shifted to concern for her finances. “That’s an expensive cab ride.”
She didn’t care. Gertie enjoyed the break from being numb. She was excited.
The driver relented eventually and drove her to Markham. Her instruction couldn’t have been more vague if she tried. “Take me where the bikers are in Markham.” And when the cab stopped in front of a strip club she was about to ask him if he thought he was being funny.
“Their clubhouse is around the back,” the driver said, meeting her eyes in his rear view mirror. “That alley over there leads to the lot they own.” He turned to look right at her. “Change your mind right now and I’ll drive you back to the city, half price.”
Gertie smiled and leaned forward. “I appreciate your concern. But I know one of them and I want to see him.”
The driver shook his head and looked back at the strip club. “I’ll wait ten minutes. You want to leave, come right back and I’ll be here.”
Gertie pulled out what she owed for the ride and a bit extra, handing it over. “You’re a good man,” she said, reaching for the door handle. “But I’ll be fine.”
He let her climb out without another word, and the strip club patrons waiting to get a spot paid her no mind. She approached the narrow alley between buildings the cab driver had mentioned and stepping into the gloom, feeling the first touch of trepidation.
The music of the strip club was loud, even here, and she fought to listen through it to catch an indication she might not be alone in the alley as she placed each step over trash and puddles. She could hear breathing, grunting, and as she neared the opposite end she knew what was happening up against the building wall. The woman leaning over with her hands braced on the brick gave Gertie no notice as she passed behind the man behind her, fucking her hard and clearly enjoying himself. The other half of the coupling caught Gertie’s eye however, giving her a wink and pausing in his efforts. “Stick around honey,” he said. “Plenty more where this came from.”
Gertie felt her face get pink and she hurried to get away, catching the giggling of both parties in her wake. All right then, it was that kind of party. She had a moment of worry, imagining that Buck had likely already found someone else to spend the night with. She didn’t know how to feel about that possibility. Then she also wondered what she would do if he turned out to not even be here.
The doorway to this clubhouse was lit up in the parking lot she found herself in, so she headed towards it, fuelled on by a high and some warm fuzziness from the wine she’d already drank. Another man was leaning against the wall next to the door, getting a blow job from a blonde woman. Right there. In front of everyone.
Gertie was stunned, knowing she was staring but not sure how to make herself stop either. Then she realized she recognized the man, it was the one that had been trying to dance with Maggie the night she met Buck the first time at that dive. He was watching her, almost unaffected by the efforts of the woman on her knees in front of him.
“Do I know you?” he asked, frowning at Gertie and shoving his hands into the blonde woman’s hair.
Gertie’s eyes widened and she shook her head. “No, definitely not.”
He wasn’t convinced, but he also decided he didn’t care as he looked d
own at his friend. Gertie hurried past them into the building, not sure what she had come upon and starting to feel terribly uncomfortable.
A feeling that only got worse inside. Women were stripping on the pool tables. Two women were … well, pleasuring each other on one table with a group of men watching and catcalling. And that was just the first thing she saw. She sidestepped to allow a large, tattooed and dark-haired man past with two girls hanging onto his belt, giggling and scurrying after him.
Shit. Maybe that cab driver was still out front. She was in way over her heard. This wasn’t her scene; this was definitely not something she was comfortable with. A girl in front of the bar had men pouring liquor over her chest and licking it off. She had three in total enjoying the attraction, and Gertie stared in shock. Naked breasts were everyone, people having sex on available furniture out in the open. She tried her best not to focus on any one thing, scanning faces looking for that one she knew without taking in any other sordid details.
“Bad place for a girl to be alone,” a voice said, over her left shoulder.
She jumped away from the body pressing into her back, turning quickly. She didn’t recognize this man, but he eyed her up and down with a cool steel-blue gaze. His hair was greased to the side, the underside shaved close, tattoos taking up that exposed real estate. The ink was up his neck, expanding rings in his ears, piercings in his lip, eyebrow and nose. She exhaled slowly, trying to sound calm as she explained, “I’m looking for someone.”
This stranger’s eyes went to her chest and he moved in a bit closer, brushing against her. He was tall, not hulking but wiry looking. There was a danger to how he was glaring at her, but she could feel that he wanted her at the same time. “I’m right here,” he said with a slow smile.
Gertie had to blink. With the smile he looked absolutely different, gorgeous, actually. His teeth were painfully white and the sides of his eyes crinkled. He even had a dimple. She actually smiled back before she realized that might be taken the wrong way. “I’m looking for Buck,” she blurted out.
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