Sasquatch Tracks the Off-Limits

Sasquatch

Walking out of church, Squatch had an uneasy feeling. Not because anything was going on, but because it wasn’t. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

No religious zealots doing anything more than holding services and feeding the homeless. Sure, they had the apartments full of a steady flow in and out of people seeking asylum from Ezekiel’s children and other bad situations, but that was it.

No children being married to a new religious leader old enough to know better, as far as they knew. No property being pilfered, no one questioning where the last leader was. Just the run-of-the-mill cult-like behavior for once.

No rival clubs or mafia bullshit. No bodies in trunks, since Zombie’s ol’ lady. No abusive ex-assholes since Nova’s, and no surprise kids from a one-night stand with an ex’s sister showing up since Rae.

There wasn’t even any drama between the ol’ ladies and the candy stripers. For the record, Squatch hated the term Santa coined, but it stuck.

Hell, even Sherry had seemingly gotten her shit together and was going to college. Partied with the patches less and less as she spent more time studying.

The club was starting to be more abuzz with children and family BBQs and less wild, balls-out parties.

It still happened, and fuck if he didn’t love it when it did, but it wasn’t the norm anymore.

There was a time and place for everything now it seemed.

Hell, even Devin had moved out and in with Harmon.

Mrs. G came to stay after Carl died in lockup and she ran the clubhouse like a well-oiled machine. Being a retired school lunch lady didn’t hurt. They never missed a meal, and hell, she’d put the club girls on a rotation of chores.

The club had never been cleaner or more homey, so why was Sasquatch itching like his skin was four sizes too small for his body. Ten pounds of potatoes shoved into a five-pound bag.

Exactly why he’d thought it was too fucking quiet.

Something had to give. It was like the calm before the storm. If the calm was any indication of the storm to come, they were due for a category five hurricane to rip through their lives.

His Aunt Phoebe always said, party in the chaos but plan in the quiet. Yeah, it didn’t make much sense to him either, but it did to her and it seemed appropriate to his mood. For whatever reason.

Squatch sauntered up to the pool table and racked the balls. “Who’s up for getting their ass kicked?” Reaching into his wallet, he pulled out a fifty and slapped it on the rail.

His brothers all seemed occupied. Outlaw was running his nose along Harmon’s neck as she tossed her head back.

Squatch stared in fascination as Outlaw’s tongue darted out to lick along her cheek while he nodded for Santa to join them. Santa came up behind her and nuzzled the other side of her neck and he could hear a low moan escape from her.

Harmon wasn’t a club girl, she was actually Rae’s best friend and, now Devin’s roommate, who Outlaw had taken an immediate interest in.

The betting pool had started shortly after they met to see how long before he made her his ol’ lady, but no one saw the throuple that was to come until a few months after when Santa started joining in.

It was nothing new to see those two share a woman, hell, it was more rule than exception, but that had been with candy stripers, and one-offs. Harmon was practically family so things could either be awesome and handled like adults, or it would eventually go sideways.

It was becoming obvious to Sasquatch that Harmon’s heart was set on one of the fuckers, and neither apparently saw it.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys,” Squatch muttered under his breath as the three fucked off to one of their rooms.

As it always did, Squatch’s gaze sought out Devin, Croon’s sister. A curvy as fuck, beautiful girl next door with a dose of sass and heart of gold… off limits, but oh so fucking tempting.

Devin was deep in a conversation with Hook, her BFF in the club.

Those two were tighter than just about any non-sexual couple he knew.

It irked him a little if he were being honest. Not that Hook would ever stray from Nova, but still, Squatch wanted her to lean into him and confide the way she did with Hook.

Hell, when Croon had been a prospect, he was that guy, and they’d flirted shamelessly.

It had been tempting to hit it before his brother patched in and could actually put her off limits, but his Aunt Phoebe would’ve popped him in the back of his thick skull if he had.

“I got you,” Nova interrupted his thoughts and sauntered over to the table, slapping two twenties and a ten on the rail next to his fifty.

Sasquatch leaned in and gave her a sisterly hug. “You know I can’t take your money.”

“Awesome,” she proclaimed as she grabbed a cue. “That means you’ll let me win. You break.”

They knocked the balls around for a few minutes before he noticed the discussion between Nova’s ol’ man and Devin getting heated.

“That don’t bother you?” He tipped his cue their way before taking his shot which he missed on purpose. Nova looked toward where Devin and Hook stood, his finger in Dev’s face.

“If you mean their friendship, then, no. They were thick as thieves when I arrived on the scene. I even thought they were dating because of how comfortable they are with each other. The whole ‘come join us’ misunderstanding is a story for a few more tequila shots and another time.” She laughed to herself.

“I trust him implicitly, so no, never. However.” Her voice took on an air of concern. “If you mean the tension between them, then yes. That certainly bothers me.” She laid her cue down. “Forfeit,” she said before she strode their way, taking Devin’s hand in hers, not her ol’ man’s.

It irritated and soothed Sasquatch at the same time. Devin only came to stay in Utah after something she wouldn’t talk about happened in Nebraska and the Bastards there extracted her. Since then, she’d pulled away from her brother, who wasn’t taking it well since they’d been close.

That’s what happens when you have a shit-for-nothing alcoholic mother and you end up raising each other, Squatch assumed. He didn’t know shit about siblings. He was an only child raised for the most part, by his underage aunt.

What he did know was that Croon and Devin had always leaned on each other and that was why it was driving Croon insane that he didn’t know exactly what had happened to her.

She wouldn’t lean on him, but she’d found a friend in Hook.

Everyone supported it because those two seemed to understand each other on a level no one else did.

And if Hook’s ol’ lady could handle it, who were they to rock the boat.

His gaze slipped over toward the bar where Croon had downed a shot, before he met Squatch’s and a look passed between them.

One that said the sight of Hook and Devin fighting disturbed him more than her not having anyone.

Croon’s eyes went back and forth between Squatch and Devin, and he got the message, be there for her if her relationship with Hook goes south, since it can’t be me.

When Squatch gave him a curt nod, placed his cue on the table and took a step toward them, Croon mouthed a thanks and headed out to work.

His phone pinged a few seconds later, and he pulled it from his pants pocket.

CROON: Take care of her.

SQUATCH: I’ve got you, brother.

He tapped out the reply before repocketing his phone.

Croon was grumpy as fuck. He was definitely going to be the shittiest karaoke host tonight.

Not his usual sing and charm the pants off any red-blooded woman within the walls of the bar with his soulful rendition of “Love Me Forever” by Motorhead.

Which was ironic because for Croon, forever was a max of one night or three orgasms. Whichever came first… his words.

By the time Squatch made it to the group, there were no more raised voices, just a silent standoff before Devin gritted out, “Fine.”

She turned her gaze to Nova and gave her a hug before delivering a jab at Hook. “You could do so much better than him.”

It was said with an odd combination of venom and jest. “Not true, sweetie, and you know it. You’ll get over it, but not until you make him suffer a little first.” Nova soothed her. “How about I make him sleep here tonight? Will that help you feel better?”

Devin smiled through her tears. “It sure would.”

She turned back to Hook. “Deep down, I know you’re right, but on the surface, I hope your dick falls off.”

“Hey, hey, hey. I’m on your side, remember,” Nova chided. “Why curse me, sister?”

“Fine,” Devin conceded. “I hope your sled doesn’t start and you have to ride a moped on the next club run.”

Devin spun Squatch’s way and their eyes collided. For a moment, he was lost in her olive-green eyes swirling with pain and fear and something else he couldn’t understand. What he did understand was he needed to erase that look for her. It was as if his soul begged him to.

Few things cleared his mind when it was a cyclone of emotions. Fighting, fucking, and flying down the road. The first two were not what her brother had in mind when he’d ask Squatch to take care of her, so the third it was.

“Hey, Devin, wanna go for a ride? Just let it all go for a while?”

She gave him a watery smile that kicked his heart up a beat. “That sounds like exactly what I need.” When she slipped her arm in his, he relished the feel of her skin against his.

As they headed out, Hook spoke from behind them in a voice laced with emotion. “Sorry, Devin, I love you like my own sister, but…” His words trailed off and Devin spoke without turning back.

“I know, brotherhood comes first.”

Lower, she whispered, mostly to herself, “Never me.”

Those two words almost broke him. No woman should ever feel like they didn’t come first.