Chapter Seven
All Worked Up
Anthony
The pillow felt amazing, even if my jaw was stiff when I opened my eyes. The house was quiet, which wasn’t anything new. My brother, Eric had been deployed for over a year, so it was just me and Aunt Daisy these days.
Her door was still closed when I opened mine and ventured out into the tiny hallway. The coffee pot was scheduled to brew at six sharp every morning, but it was still sitting full and the clock on the stove read five after seven.
I groaned and made my way to the shower, letting the heat and steam do what it could for my muscles while I washed and stretched. I could see the faint red marks on my lower back where we’d scuffled about alongside the highway, but otherwise it looked no worse for the wear.
I’d made it home just fine on my own bike, so I couldn’t complain too much. It could have been worse. If any of the guys had seen or girls the guys knew, it would have been really bad.
As it stood, Mark would probably ask Mak what happened, and he’d be smart enough to lie for both our sakes.
I wrapped a towel around myself and stepped out onto the fluffy rugs Daisy favored in the washroom. I smiled at my reflection in the mirror just thinking about what she would say, if she’d seen me with the blood on my face last night.
I didn’t see any obvious swelling. There was a faint scratch near my ear, but I didn’t think anyone would notice. I took my time dragging the razor around my jaw until I was perfectly lined up. Daisy hated my grooming tactics. She said I was worse than any sister she had.
I don’t know how that is possible. It isn’t like I was doing anything special; I just liked a crisp hint of a beard. I heard the cabinet door closing in the kitchen and the trickling sound of her coffee being poured.
“Be out in just a minute,” I called, as I completed the finishing touches and washed my face clean.
I didn’t think anything of the lack of response, until the door opened behind me.
“Oh,” she murmured, clearly surprised by my presence.
Her hair was disheveled and she didn’t quite look fully awake at first glance. Then, her mouth went slack, and she hurried into the bathroom, rather than closing the door and giving me a moment, as I might have hoped.
“Wh–?” That was all I got out before the fussing started.
“What on Earth? Anthony, what the hell?”
I hissed when she began to palpate my lower back.
“Ah– It’s nothing. I just–”
“Nothing? No— What happened to your ear?” She shot to her tiptoes and nearly took my earlobe off my head with her effort to bring me down to size.
“Ahh, take it easy, Dai–”
“That Mark Miller did this, didn’t he?”
I groaned when she instantly zeroed in on Mark.
If it wasn’t Mark taking the blame for something, it was Montana with her.
She hated them with equal measure. I couldn’t say I didn’t understand why.
My mother once told me that was how she met my father.
They went on a double date with Aunt Daisy and Montana.
She blamed herself for my mother’s death, but beyond that grief and guilt, she ultimately blamed the club.
“Mark didn’t do anything.” I tried to laugh away her concern, but she had that eagle-eyed look about her and was already tossing her head back and forth.
“No. No, you will not cover for them.” She insisted, “And I won’t stand for this. I won’t stand for the violence. The outlawry is bad enough.”
“Aunt D–”
“You hear me, Anthony Michael, I won’t have it.
” She lifted her chin and shot an arm past me as she grabbed a hair tie off the sink.
I couldn’t help the laughter that trickled from me when she bent over and began finger combing her hair into a top knot.
She was in her late forties, a gentle soul by most accounts, but she still shot out to collect her shoes like she was late for a street fight.
“What the fuck are you doing?” I laughed, following after her in just my towel.
“I’m going to give Marcus Miller a piece of my damned mind. That’s what I’m gonna do.”
All the humor left me at once, “D–don’t do that. No–”
There was no reasoning with her when she was worked up like this. My aunt was a fucking firecracker when it came to protecting ‘her boys.’
My stomach soured and I stared at the open door as she hurried off on her mission. We had a monthly meeting tonight. And this was about the only thing that could make a date with Big Vick worse.
She’d have Mark ready to blow before he had even waked and baked.
Fuck that.
I knew better than to run, but I had to be smart. If I called Vick, C.C., or Montana, they’d remind me there was a meeting. They’d insist I stick around rather than fuck off.
I had to pick the one person that wouldn’t answer my call…
Mak.
I dialed his number, while I scrambled into some clothes, my boots, and snatched my cut off the dresser where I’d left it.
When the voicemail prompt sounded, I made it quick, “Hey, Mak, listen… Me and Daisy got into it this morning. Shit ain’t pretty over here. I gotta bail. I think she might call the law or something.”
I lied my ass off, got on the bike and pointed it toward the Pink Cabaret. I didn’t give a good damn if it wasn’t nine in the morning yet. I’d wait all fucking night to see her if I had to.