“She went Looney Tunes,” Knuckles answered in all seriousness.
“Neenie caught her messing with our condom supply,” Tiny elaborated. “She was trying to get knocked up, near as I can tell.”
“What?” Fritter exclaimed, and that’s when Tiny remembered he hadn’t been aware of this.
“Plus she attacked Neenie when she was caught,” Knuckles went on. “I guess there was some cat fight action.”
“Not a lot,” Tiny corrected. “Mal and I got here shortly after it started. It was mostly screaming and shouting.”
Jayce turned to Fritter. “I’m sorry man. Tiny thinks this is how you knocked up your old lady, and I have to say he’s probably right.”
Fritter cracked his knuckles, eyes on the table in front of him. “Shit.”
“I’m sorry, man.” That was Tiny. “Sharon was my first thought when Wendy admitted it.”
Fritter just nodded.
“So, needless to say, but she’s out. She’s not welcome here. If you see her anywhere near Red Rebels turf you turn her away. And keep an ear out to make sure she doesn’t run her mouth where she shouldn’t,” Jayce tagged on. “She’s nuts. One step over the line I think we’re within our rights to take her out.”
The room got very quiet at that. The Red Rebels were not in the habit of hurting innocents or civilians, but mostly hurting women was way past the line for them. However, it was impossible to know what a crazy person might say to extract revenge, and even harder to know what, if anything, Wendy even had on them. So they’d have to be vigilant.
“Next up. The Dirty Rats in Montrose got hold of me this morning. As you know, they kept Mal safe for us and her friend is still under their watch at the clubhouse. Although, I think the guy might be enjoying himself.” There were a few chuckles. “Spaz has been looking into any noise that the Montrose chapter might have made. He’ll tell us what he knows.”
Spaz cleared his throat. “Yeah, they were a low-key outlaw club until the mid-eighties. That’s when they were patched over to the Hyde Rollers.”
“High Rollers?” Knuckles snorted at the name,
“Hyde,” Spaz corrected. “As in, Jekyll and Hyde.”
“Never even heard of them,” Tank said.
“They only had about seven chapters. They were all taken over, pretty violently, by the Dirty Rats, one by one. They were like us. They ran pot, stayed away from anything bigger than that. The Montrose chapter was the last holdout. Their take over was very, very conflicted. But like most Dirty Rat chapters, there’s no real governance. They have the patch but chapter to chapter is pretty much its own entity. None of them have any bylaws.”
“Now, we know that they want to patch in. When the Nomads asked it was a no brainer because we’d known them forever.” Jayce ran his hand over his head. “On this one, I have no idea what to do.”
“What do they want from us, other than the patch?” Tank asked.
“Nothing,” Jayce said bluntly. “They’re not asking to be cut into our Sachetti business, which I was expecting. They only mentioned that they could help us get Banshee pot through Colorado. Which would make the Bastards very happy.”
Knuckles made a thoughtful sound. “So could we just introduce those parties and let the Bastards set up an arrangement with them on their own?”
“That’s what I would want to do, yeah. We worry about our product, they have their own. Like I said, all they seem to want is our patch.”
“Are we voting on this now?” Tiny asked.
“We could,” Jayce admitted. “I mean, they’re the ones that are anxious to leave the Rats behind, and I can’t blame them for that. They told Tiny there would be a few in the fold that might fight it, but they’d be willing to take care of that.”
“So if they off the Rats that are really dedicated to that patch, do we trust them enough to be Red Rebels?” Tank summed it up in one, deliberately-delivered statement.
“Why not just set up a pot supply with the Banshees themselves?” Fritter asked.
Tiny had the answer for that one. “Because the Rats are moving the laced shit they get from the Mazaris. That’s why that chapter is there in the first place. It’s addictive and they’re making cash in a state that has legalized marijuana. If they have an income with our patch it’s easier to convince everyone to patch in.”
“Plus, they’re pushing meth that the Mazaris are making there, too. We know very well that the Mazaris make bank with ice,” Jayce reminded everyone.
“I’m trying to see where having them on board would hurt us, and I get nothing,” Buck said evenly. “Unless we start cutting them in on our business directly, they’d be self-sustaining. Kinda like the Nomads are.”
Jayce nodded. “I agree. So let’s vote it. All in favor of the Montrose Dirty Rats patching in as Red Rebels?”
All hands went in the air and Jayce knocked on the table again. “All right then. I’ll call them when we’re done and deliver the good news. Spaz, you’re in charge of setting them up with patches. We’ll let them take care of their own garbage getting rid of any trouble makers.”
Spaz nodded. “You got it. I’ll send them our decals and bylaws, too.”
“Perfect.” Jayce addressed the group. “Also, thanks again for today, guys. I love that run, and I know you guys do, too. That hospital’s helped a lot of kids, quite a few from Markham. Doing shit like that keeps us in the public’s good graces.”
“Plus, we got to hear Mallory sing again.” Knuckles grinned and punched his shoulder. “Like an angel, man.”
Tiny was grinning. He could tell because his cheeks were starting to ache, like his grin had been plastered on all day. And maybe it had been.
“Trinny’s ordering pizza for dinner tonight. Everyone’s welcome to stay and hang out for a while again today. Let’s call this meeting closed.”
There were a few whoops around the table as Jayce knocked on the top. They spilled back into the clubhouse and Tiny immediately went looking for his woman. He found her outside, sitting at the picnic table with Gertie and Rose.
“Hey,” she greeted him, head back to accept his kiss. He awkwardly folded his leg under the table to straddle the bench next to her—no way he could pretzel himself to sit properly.
“Hey,” he returned, ignoring the other women, which was a bit rude but he had a lot of time to make up for with his own. “We got a couple hours to kill. Wanna go for another ride?”
Her grin was brilliant. “You sure you can handle that?”
His hand clamped on the back of her neck. “What are you insinuating?”
She licked her lips. He got hard, no surprise there. “Nothing, handsome. Let’s go for a ride.”
Chapter Twenty-Three
Time was a funny thing. It could loop back on itself, making the past seem close enough to touch, and at other times it could extend the norm and make recent events seem like they took place ages ago.
On the back of Harlon’s bike the past twenty-nine years almost seemed non-existent. She was twenty again, legs pressed tight to his, arms wrapped around his body as he rolled them through Markham at polite and civil speeds, until they hit the freeway. Then he opened her up and really took off, a magic carpet ride on a few hundred pounds of leather and chrome-wrapped metal.
The world whipped by in a blur, all dusty brown landscapes. When the sun was getting low he pulled off onto a side road that she could barely see as he made the turn, but it was hard packed and took them off the freeway, around a few bends and into a small stand of trees. He killed the engine, kicked the stand down and pulled off his helmet. As soon as he performed this short ritual she grinned, her pulse kicked up, and she remembered this part of the past, too.
She unfastened the chin strap then held his shoulders while swinging her leg over the bike to dismount. She pulled the helmet off and shook out her hair, the breeze catching it and cooling her head. It had been a bit warm in that helmet.
“Where are we?”
“Som
ewhere quiet,” was his gruff answer. In an instant the helmet she held vanished, and then she was wrapped up in his arms, and his mouth pressed down on hers with fantastic urgency.
The first time she’d been with him had been in a parking lot at a bar, but it was still inside a truck. Out here, exposed, she felt the slightest hesitation when his hands pushed between them to pull at the fly of her jeans. They’d done this back in the day sure, but now she was wiser. Supposedly.
“Wait,” she breathed, face flushed, air hard to come by all of a sudden.
“What’s wrong?” his hands stilled, but he was still holding the button.
“Out here?”
His smile was slow and her concerned crumbled, just a bit. “Who do you think is gonna see us?”
She bit her lip and looked around. It was hard to imagine a more abandoned part of the world but still...
Harlon ducked his head, and she felt his lips and teeth on the side of her neck. It made her moan, eyes closing, and then she could give a flying fuck if they were surrounded by strangers with cameras.
His hand was in her jeans in mere seconds, cupping her mound, rubbing at her through her panties. Shamelessly she ground herself against him, blood warming more so that when he pushed her jeans down over her ass she didn’t feel the slightly cooler air.
“Turn around. Hands on the seat, babe.” His voice was rough, needing.
She did exactly as told, bracing her hands on the leather of his perfectly gleaming motorcycle. Harlon was on his knees behind her, unbuckling her boot before pulling it off, and yanking her foot out of her jeans. Her hands tightened on the bench’s stitching, allowing a touched smile when he pulled her boot back on her foot before setting it back on the ground.
“I was gonna go fast, but I don’t know now,” he grumbled, and she sighed as his rough hands slid up the backs of her thighs, paper-light. Then he was pulling her hips back closer to himself, bending her over further. One finger slipped inside her underwear, dragging slowly through her wetness. His hands were colder, which had an interesting—but definitely thrilling—effect. “There’s never been anything better than this.”
Her eyes dragged closed as his tongue was suddenly on her, moving in a short, tight path back and forth. It was so intense and concentrated she was mewing the entire time, her body tightening gradually until the pressure in her belly snapped and she bucked against his hold on her hips.
Then he let her go and she heard his chuckle, making her body quiver with impossible intensity given what he’d just done to her.
“Good thing I came prepared,” he said, and she looked back at him over her shoulder.
“Don’t bother,” she whispered, and his hand froze reaching inside of his vest.
“What?”
“If we’ve been using faulty condoms all this time—”
“Mal.” It might have been meant to sound like disagreement, but he didn’t do a very convincing job.
“Are you with me now?”
His eyes doubled in their intensity. “Absolutely. I’m with you.”
Stupidly reckless, but...whatever. “Then don’t bother. I want to feel you.”
Now his hands went to his fly, and her chest swelled. All the heat in her body rushed between her legs. Then he was pushing into her, groaning right along with her, and when she tried to move he tightened his grip on her hips. “Just wait,” he grunted. “Fuck, you feel so good. I need a minute.”
Now it was her turn to chuckle, low in her throat.
“That feels good, too. Damn.”
She waited, body feeling full and overwhelmed by him like always, and when he retreated and advanced just a few inches she couldn’t stop her whimper.
“Mal. I’m not going to last. I feel like a fucking kid popping his cherry here.”
“Just let go,” she begged. “Just do it. We can always try again.”
With a groan he did as she asked, and as his thrusts became more savage she felt that delicious tightness in her belly, but he was making noises that she knew meant it was all but over. She rode the feeling, smiling when his body tensed and the bellow he made was deep and louder than anything she’d ever heard from him.
His breathing was harsh, and so was hers. She felt his chest brush her back as he leaned down to kiss behind her ear, giving her a smaller but no less pleasant tingle. “Damn, I still love you.”
Her heart clenched, and her eyes flew open. Twisting her head to look over her shoulder at him, she was at once warmed by look on his face, so caring as he stroked her hair, his eyes following the motion of his hand. “Harlon.”
“Yeah, I know. Fucking great timing. But I still do.”
She had to smile, and that’s when he met her eyes. They shared a heavy moment, full of meaningful eye contact, then he moved his hips. He was softening inside of her, and as he pulled free she couldn’t help but moan.
“Shit, I made a fucking mess.”
“It’s okay. I’m wearing underwear.”
He growled at that. “Fuck. I’ll be thinking about how I’m still inside of you all night now.”
She had to laugh, then sigh as he again got to his knees and helped right her clothes again. Such care from this huge bear of a man.
-oOo-
At the clubhouse the entire crew was awaiting the arrival of the pizza delivery. Knuckles, for one, was quite disappointed when it was just them walking through the door. She didn’t take that personally.
Mallory accepted a beer from the overgrown goofball then made her way to where the womenfolk were arranged around the glowing tree. Jolene was there, which gave her some pause, but since she got on so well with the rest of them, Mal decided Jolene would just have to tolerate her. And failing that affirmation, Mallory would remind herself the woman was, after all, a widow.
“How was your...ride?” Rose asked with a sly grin.
“Is it obvious?”
“You’re flushed and grinning,” Jolene noted, then she smiled and showed what a stunner she really was. “But even without that you’ve got Just Fucked hair. No easy feat after putting a helmet on.”
Trinny shook her head as Mal claimed a spot on the sofa next to her. “Sorry. We’re open and notice everything. And we’ve all been there.”
“Oh yeah,” Gertie agreed emphatically, which made Mal crack up.
“So tomorrow’s the party for the club and associates?” Mal asked.
“Yeah. The parents bring a gift for their kids ahead of time, and ‘Santa’ gives it to them while they’re here,” Trinny answered, making air quotes. “We supply snacks and candy and all the stuff the parents hate us for.”
“Is Tiny really Santa?”
Gertie made a sound like she’d just seen a cute puppy. “He is, and he’s so good! The kids freaking love him. He’s got that beard and that deep voice, and he does the ho ho ho!” She even tried to drop her voice a few octaves. “It’s awesome.”
“I’d suggest making Mal Missus Claus, but she’s a bit va-va-va-voom for that,” Jolene mused, eyes travelling over her.
“Thanks?” Mal was pleased when they all laughed that.
“It’s a compliment,” Rose assured her, hands running over her belly.
“How are you feeling?” she had to ask, indicating the woman’s stomach.
“Pregnant,” was the blunt answer. “Honestly, I was scared of the delivery for a long time. Now, I’m so over being pregnant. I want to paint my own toe nails. I want to be able to see my shoes when they’re on my feet.”
“Well, you look amazing,” Mal had to admit.
Gertie smiled. “I bet you looked good pregnant, too. Did you glow?”
She had to laugh. “I have no idea. I was only twenty, so...probably.”
Trinny joined in the laughing. “Gertie was gorgeous when she was preggers, too. You curvy bitches have the luck there.”
“Are you kidding?” Gertie cried. “You skinny broads are so cute with your basketball bellies.”
Trinny snorted, taki
ng a sip of beer. “I got horrible acne with JJ. I had zits on my ass. Of course, Jayce thought it was hilarious.”
“As long as he didn’t make you feel ugly,” Gertie said. “Did anyone else get horny or was that just me?”
“Yes,” everyone except Jolene said in unison. Then they all had another laugh.
“Do you have any little ones?” Mal asked, determined to bring the raven-haired beauty into the conversation.
Jolene’s smile wavered, just a little, and Mal had an oh shit thought before she answered. “No. We couldn’t have kids.”
“Oh.” Mal swallowed. “I’m sorry. Sorry I mentioned it, too.”
Jolene waved a hand. “It’s okay. We just kind of accepted it. Assuming there’d be time to adopt later.”
Trinny reached out and squeezed Jolene’s hand. “It’s really too bad. Mickey loved kids. And they loved him.”
Mal wished she could take that question back. But then there was a loud burst of laughter across the room. They turned to see little Libby, looking up at Jayce, Harlon and Knuckles in confusion over what they were all finding so hilarious. When it looked like she was about to cry, maybe thinking they were making fun of her, Jayce picked her up and hugged her.
“He’s a good dad,” Gertie said softly.
“He has his moments,” Trinny agreed quietly.
They watched Libby struggle against her father’s hold, lip sticking out in an overly exaggerated pout. Her little booty was on his arm, but she managed to somehow twist and hold her arms out to “Uncle Tiny.”
Mal felt that right in her womb.
Harlon took the little blonde and held her to his chest, laughing and rubbing her back. Her little head rested on his shoulder and her arms went around his neck. Knuckles found the rejection of Jayce’s paternal affection hilarious.
“Was Tiny good with your little one?” Trinny asked.
They all turned and settled back in place. “He was,” Mal admitted. “He was one of the ones that took the nighttime feedings and diaper changes. Although, for perspective, he drove long-haul routes so he was on the road a lot. But when he was home, he was devoted.”
Reprise Page 28
