“Are you saying, he doesn’t want a baby?”
“Been thinking about it, Wiz. Been talking to Sam. If that was so, he’d have left Olivia behind. Christ knows, Sophie and Sam tried to persuade her.”
Wizard sighs. “Ollie’s a good woman wanting to stick with her man. It might have been better for her if she’d let him go alone. She didn’t ask for any of this. Now she’s been taken away from everything she’s known. Amy’s worried about her.”
“All the fuckin’ women are.”
“And it’s not just the old ladies. Wraith can’t settle to anything now she’s gone, a shepherd without all his flock.” Wizard drinks some more of his beer down. “Wanted to ask you something, Drummer. I’m without a fuckin’ VP now. Need someone to have my back in case shit goes down.”
“Of course you do.” I swallow down the pain that that should have been, had been, the role of my son. “Any thoughts who you’d want?” It would need to be a club vote, but the man in the hot seat can usually influence who he wants to be his right-hand man.
“No one comes to mind.” He grimaces. “Sure, I can name any number of men who’d be ready in time, but none who I think could step up immediately. Obviously there are some who just plain wouldn’t want it.”
The VP needs to be someone who can run the club if the prez isn’t around. He’s got to be someone who can lead and have the respect of the men so when he says jump, we all ask how high. He also needs to know he’ll probably never move into the top spot and be content to be second in command.
“Have you thought about moving Wraith back up the table? At least until you can shape someone else.”
“Wraith’s not in the right mindset right now. We both know that. He’s too cut up about Olivia.” Wizard scoffs. “Nah, but I have thought of one person. On a temporary basis as you suggest.” He pushes away from the workbench. “I don’t want to jump and put someone in for the sake of it. You know the risks we take every fuckin’ day when we ride. If something happens to me, I’ve gotta know the VP can handle the club.” His mouth curves down. “I thought I had that in Hawk. I was wrong.”
It hurts that my son turned out not to be the dependable man I’d always imagined him to be. Bowing my head, my hands toy with my beard.
“All my thoughts circle back to one man, Drum. You.”
What the fuck? “Wizard, you must be fuckin’ crazy, or my hearing’s gone. Thought you said you wanted me to be VP.”
“Nothing wrong with your fuckin’ ears, old man.” He chuckles. “Look, don’t dismiss it out of hand. It’s not permanent. Just to give me some breathing space while the club mends after losing Hawk. It’s affected everyone. I hear the talk. They wonder what’s gone wrong when someone like him walks away without glancing back. It’s a betrayal that’s gonna take strong leadership to keep anyone else from walking away. At the moment we’re, I’m, weak. We’ve got to show strength. What better way than for you to step up and be my VP?”
It’s the last thing I expected. But even I have to agree, he’s got a point. I might be old physically, but I’ve still got all my faculties about me. My eyes, with the aid of glasses, are as sharp as any man’s, and my hand’s still steady enough to fire a gun. My brain, well, that’s what he wants of me, and apart from forgetting shit like what I came into a room to find, that’s as clear as it’s ever been.
I know all the men trust me. Wizard and I would make a good team.
I glance at him wryly. “Thought I’d done my time.”
He doesn’t say a word, he doesn’t have to. If my son hadn’t made the decision he had, I’d have been allowed to enjoy my retirement.
I’ve given my life to this club. Everything I have I owe to the Satan’s Devils. If my club asks something of me, I have no choice other than to agree. Even if it makes my gut churn to think I’ll be sitting in the chair where my son should be.
I put my fingers to my face and pinch the bridge of my nose as I think things through. There’s only one thing I can do. Turning around, I offer my hand. “I accept. I’ll gladly serve as your VP.”
Wizard takes my hand, shakes it, then uses it to pull me forward so he can slap the other against my back. “Better get Sam sewing then.” He grins as he lets me go, and, reaching into his pocket, pulls out the VP patch.
I roll my eyes, but take it and raise my chin to him as he leaves. Seems I’m going to have to wait a little longer until I can just while out my days at the back of the pack with the other F.O.Gs.
Then without turning around, I say over my shoulder, “You can come out now.”
A rustling sound from the opposite side of the garage, and Sam stands, a wrench in her hand.
“You could have told me to leave.”
I raise my shoulders then lower them. “Would have, had he started discussing club business with me.”
“You’ve done the right thing, Drummer.” She loosens her hair, brushes it back, then wraps the tie around it again. “I hate the thought of you leading the club into danger again. Thought now you’d retired, I’d be able to breathe. But you’re not one to stand back when the club needs you.”
She walks around in front of me and nods down to what I’m still holding in my hand. “You want me to sew that on?”
I was prez when I met her. I sewed that damn patch on myself. I’m more than capable of sorting this one out too. I grin at her. “Think I trust you more with that wrench than I do a needle and thread. Anyway, I’ll have to wait until after it’s all made formal in church.” She smiles. That curve of her lips that’s never ceased making me catch my breath. Stepping forward, I curl my hand around the back of her neck, and lower my forehead to touch hers. “Fuckin’ love you, Sam.”
She relaxes into me as she’s done a hundred, a million times before, our bodies attuned to each other. As my cock hardens, I know if I wanted to find out, I’d find her wet.
For once in my life, the needs of my cock take a back seat. “I’m worried about our boy, Sam. Something doesn’t seem right.”
“I know,” she tells me back. “What you said to Wizard, you’re right. He just wanted to get away and leave. He had no idea what to do next.”
“It’s not just him, is it, though?” I stroke my hand up and down her back. “It’s Olivia, who we both love like a daughter, and our grandchild. I’m worried as fuck about them all.”
“I don’t know what to do,” she whispers. “I want to go see him, but I don’t want to let you down. I know you’re still angry with him.”
“You’re still his mom, whatever he’s done, darlin’. If you want to go see him, you can.”
She huffs. “Be easier if you told me to stay away. I’m angry with him too. I’ve spoken to him, he tells me he needs space.”
“Perhaps we all do.” I run my fingers over her silky hair as I think aloud. “I’d give my eye teeth to know what’s going on in his head. What really made him walk away? Did it just build up? Was it my fault?”
“Not just yours, Drum. Mine too.”
“Why don’t you get Ollie to come here? At least we can find out how he’s doing.”
“Sophie doesn’t think she can handle coming here yet. Oh, Drummer.” Her face falls. “Olivia’s having a hard time. Sophie hears the longing in her voice and understands. She doesn’t want to come back to the club, see the house she was forced to leave, or see her friends she’s now apart from.”
“We’re still her family, Sam.”
She’s quiet for a moment. “I think I’ll leave her to approach us. Sophie’s offered to visit her or meet her in town, but Ollie always makes some excuse. But she talks on the phone to Sophie most days, and Sophie updates me. If Eli’s rebelling against things that we did, or his interpretation of them anyway, then maybe it’s best to give them both some distance to figure things out and where they both want to be, and how to live outside the club.”
“Space and time,” I agree. “May not be what we want, but it’s probably what they need.”
“Sophie an
d I are thinking of postponing our trip to New York.”
“That’s still a couple of months away, isn’t it?” I tilt my head to one side. “You’ve been planning this forever.” They have. They had to work hard to convince us to let them go alone. Sophie had always wanted to take in a Broadway show, and Sam was excited about that too. “Things may have settled by then.”
“Drum?” Her question starts with her biting her lip.
“What, darlin’?”
“What if he comes to realise he’s made a mistake? What if he wants to rejoin the MC?”
I harden my face and my heart. “No way back, Sam. No fuckin’ way. Nothing could be a good enough excuse.”
“I hate it,” she tells me.
I fucking hate it too.
I think that again when later that day, I make my way down to the clubhouse and into church. Was it really only last week when the vote was taken about Eli? When I’d sat around this table waiting for my son’s fate to be agreed? So much has changed in such a short time. Now, unless anyone disagrees, I’m going to be taking his seat.
Fucked up situation for certain. For a moment I stand, letting men file into the meeting room past me, my finger and thumb pressing into the bridge of my nose. I’d noticed my son growing quieter but put it down to friction within his marriage, and nothing for me to interfere in, unless he’d come to me. If I’d pushed him for answers then, would things have turned out differently? Would he still be here and not ostracised from his family?
My delay means I’m last to enter the room. As I take my seat at the end of the table beside Wraith, I take a second to watch the men, seeing them tossing glares toward the empty seat to Prez’s left. Wizard was right, they’ve been knocked off kilter by the loss of their second in command, and he’s correct to quickly fill the position. He’s also not wrong about me. If I was still prez, I’d jump at the chance to put an experienced man in that chair.
I’m ready to serve my club once again. Now all that remains is to check they still want me.
Wizard bangs the gavel. “I’m going to start with a proposal. I need a VP. Got a man in mind who’s agreed to take it temporarily.”
“Temporary?” Hound looks surprised. “You’re promoting someone who might not make the grade?”
Wizard barks a short laugh. “Nah. I’ll cut to the chase. We’ll take a vote if it’s needed, but I’m proposing Drummer steps up as VP.”
For a moment there’s a stunned silence. Then a chuckle from Peg. And, as he starts to slide under the table, Blade puts his head into his hands and says loudly, “Oh for fuck’s sake. Thought I’d gotten away from that man being able to order me about.”
I snort, and realising old habits die hard, find myself slapping him around the head.
Wizard bangs the gavel again and says sternly, “Now if the kids will shut up and behave, I’m asking if we need to discuss this—”
“No discussion,” Throttle interrupts. “We need a strong man in that seat. I second the motion.”
“Thirded,” Joker puts in, his eyes looking around. “There’s not going to be one person against this, Prez. I propose Drummer moves seats and we get on to discussing what else we need to.”
“Show of hands,” Prez says. “Who’s for Drummer moving into the VP seat?” As far as I can tell, the next question is unnecessary. “Anyone against? Okay. That’s settled. Drummer. Come up here.”
I do, realising I will indeed be getting some sewing practice in later tonight.
It’s a standard meeting with nothing particular to discuss. When it draws to a close, I step out and go to the bar, unsurprised to find Blade, Peg, Rock and Mouse waiting for me there.
“Wiz did good,” Peg tells me. “Need to show some strength from the top right now.”
I have to agree. Particularly as one omission is Wraith. He’d walked out fast when we’d exited church. Not, I’m certain, because he thinks the role should have reverted to him, but because he’s worried as fuck about his daughter. Since Eli and Olivia had left, Wraith’s been a man lost—one of his chicks is missing from his nest.
Chapter Eight
Eli…
For the first time in my life, I don’t know what tomorrow will bring. Less pain, for a start, I predict and hope. Though my broken bones won’t heal for another few weeks, my bruises are already starting to fade. Amy came around last night, took the stitches out of the wound on my face, and seemed fairly happy with the way things were going.
Not that it hadn’t been awkward, it had. Wizard’s wife had come and left. It was clear she didn’t know what to say to me and was business-like in her approach—just a nurse with a patient. She had exchanged a few words with Liv, but their conversation was stilted, much left unsaid. Of course, she wouldn’t want to share how life was going on at the compound, and as there wasn’t much going on in ours, Liv had nothing to say. Then Amy had gone, and I was alone with my wife once again.
Physically, the reasons for not getting off my ass are receding. Mentally, I’m frozen in place. I keep telling myself my inability to think about what I want to do for the rest of my life is down to the injuries I received when I was beat out of the club. I suspect I’m lucky to be alive.
Had I not made plans as I’d expected them to kill me instead?
Possibly. Dead men have no future to plan for.
“Babe? You awake?”
“Yeah. I’ll be there in a sec,” I call back to Liv, knowing I need to get myself moving. I groan, though not this time so much from the pain, but from the effort of getting up to face the next day of my life.
If it wasn’t for Liv, I wouldn’t get out of bed. But she’s here, she’s my wife. She’s my reason for living.
Isn’t she?
Shaking my head to clear that train of thought, I have a quick shower trying not to catch sight of myself in the shower. Then, when I’ve removed the plastic bag covering my bandaged left hand, grab a pair of jeans out of a drawer, and pick up a t-shirt without caring or even looking to see which one it is.
Liv’s got breakfast ready to serve by the time I arrive in the kitchen. She’s plating up which means her back is turned toward me. I wonder why I’ve no reaction at seeing her ass as it moves in the way I used to find enticing when she stretches to lift a pan then puts it back. Is it still that my balls are sore? They seem to have gone back to their normal size. Could it be getting kicked in the ‘nads takes it out of a man? Or could it be that my wife just doesn’t make me feel horny anymore?
I’m a man. It doesn’t take much to get me hard, as my morning wood normally demonstrates. Except, even that hasn’t been putting in an appearance recently. Does Olivia simply not turn me on anymore, or is it worse? She turns me off. I realise I haven’t wanted her for weeks.
Christ. This is the woman I’m tied to for life. The woman who’s going to have my kid in just a few short months now.
Back at the club, surrounded by people, it was easier to hide my doubts that I still wanted her to be by my side forever. But now it’s just the two of us, I feel trapped, forced to confront things I’d hoped to be able to avoid.
“Here.” She turns and places a plate down in front of me, then smooths her hand over her stomach.
I force myself to think of someone else for a moment. Two someones actually. “How are you? Is the baby okay?”
“Fine.”
I frown, looking at just the one plate she’s placed down. “You not eating?”
“You overslept. I had something an hour ago.” She does, however, place her cup of decaf down, and takes the seat opposite me. “Eli, I’m getting concerned. You won’t use the money you got from your dad, which means we should both start looking for work.” She pauses, and her teeth worry her lip. “I know you need to heal a bit more, but you don’t need to physically go out to look for work. Why don’t you browse the internet to see what’s around?” She pulls her tablet toward her. “I’ve been looking myself and—”
“You’re not getting a job,” I gro
wl. “Not in your condition.”
“My condition?” Her eyes widen. “I’m pregnant not helpless. Plenty of people work while carrying babies around.”
Maybe they do, but they’re not my wife. I don’t particularly relish the thought of stepping into the civilian world myself. The thought of her working alongside men, and even women, I don’t know or trust, makes me angry. Anything could happen to her.
“There’s a job at the library, no experience necessary. I thought I might apply.”
“Liv,” I snarl, “you’d have to carry books around, go up ladders to stack shelves.”
“You don’t know that. I could at least go along and find out what’s involved.” Her eyes sharpen. “In fact, I am going. We need to eat, and you need to heal. If you—”
“Fine.” I slam my uninjured hand down. “I’ll use some of the money Dad put in my account. That will tide us over until I start work.”
“We should still minimise what we take from that. We’ll need money for when I have this baby.”
Fuck it. I hate that she’s right. I’ve been getting away with the excuse I didn’t want to buy shit too early and tempt fate, but that vindication is fast running out as time moves on. But I haven’t been entirely useless. “I’ve started putting money aside,” I remind her. Well, I did before I walked away from the club.
“That won’t be enough. There are the medical costs, let alone all the stuff we haven’t even thought about buying yet—”
“Fuckin’ hell!” I yell and abruptly stand. I didn’t mean to, but I knock my plate off the table, and it smashes onto the floor.
Immediately I kneel and start picking up pieces of broken china, thinking how the shattered plate summarises my life at this point.
She sits and watches, her face at first confused, then her jaw tightens. As I reach for a piece that’s slid a distance away, my shirt must ride up.
“What are you going to do about that?”
She’s referring to my back-patch tattoo, the one with the devil looking over three glowing-eyed demons which covers all my back from my shoulders to my ass. I’d been so proud when I’d been patched in, the pain of the needle was nothing measured against the pride I felt showing the world I was a true Satan’s Devil now.
Hawk's Cry : Satan's Devils MC Second Generation #2 Page 7
