Chapter Twelve
IWAS STILL STEWING by the time I reached the clubhouse. She’d denied that anything was wrong, and left with a small smile, but I was getting to know her tells, and something was definitely bothering her.
Was it something I said or did? As I walked toward Micro’s office, my fingers suddenly rested on my cut.
The essential part of my wardrobe that I’d put on without conscious thought before I climbed astride a motorcycle.
Why the fuck didn’t I think that through?
What was going through my head? I felt safer being myself around her, that was for sure, but the club wasn’t something we’d discussed.
What a fucking idiot. What if she thought it meant I was a bad guy?
Micro’s door opened, and he heaved a dramatic sigh as he watched me slowly approaching.
“That VP patch slowing you down, man? You were never late for anything ’til you got it.”
I picked up my pace and squeezed past him as he backed up to let me through.
“Sorry. Head’s in a mess. I’ve got everything though.” I nodded at Grease, who was lounging in the other chair like a complete slob. I swear he’d kicked back even more since his little disappearing act, but in some ways he seemed happier, so I guess his little lady was the reason.
“You wanna get even more laid back, man?” I joked as I sat down and opened my tablet to the appropriate sketches.
“Eat me. At least I was on time.”
“You live here. I have a day job, so suck it.”
“Whoa, what’s grinding your gears, man?”
I set the tablet down as we all moved closer to look at it.
“Probably the same shit that had you hiding out recently.”
He started laughing, Micro joining him, as they ignored my carefully drawn, but admittedly rudimentary, sketches.
“Yeah, I don’t think so, man.”
“Woman troubles, yeah?”
Grease shook his head and turned to Micro. “He’s VP now, maybe we just tell him.” Tell me what?
Micro gestured to him to continue, and he groaned. “Man, I thought you’d do the talking. You’re so good at it, Pres.” He got flipped off in response, so he sighed and gestured to the desk.
“Get out the good shit then, assuming you have any.”
“I’m not staying tonight, so I need to ride back.”
“You can have one, man. We’re gonna be a while.”
I watched the screen on my tablet fade to black as I waited for someone to talk. After the secrets Micro had revealed when he was drunk that night, I figured it couldn’t be worse than anything he told me.
“I’m… I wasn’t always a biker,” Grease said slowly, and I rolled my eyes at him.
“Duh, we all start somewhere, even if we’re born to it. Really, this is what you’re edging me for? Nobody here doesn’t have a past.”
“His past is more present, and future too.”
“That makes so little fucking sense, you idiot.”
“I’m not really in the mood for a sideshow, guys, so can you just tell me, or let me get on with what I wanted to show you?”
“He’s definitely not his usual self, man.”
“Just get on with it, Grease,” Micro groaned, gulping his bourbon and sitting back.
Grease glared at him, and then laughed. “Here I am, telling you it’s time to out my secret, then getting pissed at you for agreeing. And I thought you were always the biggest prick in the room.”
He ignored Micro’s attempt to bounce a balled up piece of paper off his face, and flipped him off.
“Okay, so Micro knows me from before, when I was with the other chapter, but I was never a biker. I mean, until then, when I realised it was the only fucking life that mattered. Yeah. So my real name is Tesio Agosti, although I’m not him anymore.
I was originally loaned to the other chapter by Don Rossi.
I was one of his men, working undercover. ”
My jaw dropped, and he laughed. “I hide it well, huh?”
Suddenly lots of little things were dropping into place.
Like his name, and his access to all kinds of stuff that never seemed possible.
Oh, and things like Stitch telling people to get with Grease for answers about the mafia guys they were affiliated with.
Even Rocket apparently calling him a ‘mafia douche’, which I’d assumed at the time was a racial slur.
“You bastard,” I said lightly, sipping more of my drink as my mind jumped from memory to memory, connecting the dots.
“And you went on the run because you got involved with Jamie?”
He shrugged. “I mean, I was already on thin ice at that point, putting the club ahead of the ‘family’ or whatever. I’m not disloyal, and I need you to know that. I just realise that the club was where my loyalty belonged.”
“So you’re out now?” He wavered a hand in the air and said ‘ehhh’.
“He’s still our go between, but he’s also staying. Uh this isn’t going to be common knowledge outside of this room, so only the other original Phoenix guys know, but that includes Rocket and Stag, of course.”
“Is this why Rocket has a beef with you?”
Grease shrugged again. “Been meaning to break his face, so who knows? Maybe tomorrow will be the day.”
“Not in my fucking shop, asshole.”
“Anyway, back to the matter at hand. We just thought, as VP, you should know the inner shit nobody else gets to know.”
“Anything else you’re about to spring on me?”
“Not that I can think of. Pres?”
Micro jabbed a finger at my tablet. “No, he knows my darkest secrets already. So let’s get this done, yeah? You wanted to show me some ideas for tarting this place up?”
I grinned and woke the screen up again, trying to illustrate my idea for the new covered area for our rides.
“I like it, man. I mean, not your drawing, because… hey! I’m only saying,” Micro argued as I flipped him off, and I swear that’s all we do sometimes.
“I’m no fucking designer, but I know what we need.
Hell, if I had my way, I’d bulldoze this entire fucking compound and start from scratch.
There’s so much we could do with this plot of land, I’m telling ya.
For a start, single story buildings are a waste of space, when we could have at least another floor.
We could get accommodation for way more members in, and we could have a proper lounge and bar.
I mean, the possibilities are endless. Except for funding, of course. ”
Grease snorted, but he wasn’t arguing with me, and Micro was nodding.
“I mean, I’d really like a decent suite for me and Soph to stay in when we’re onsite, but it needs room for a baby too. We talked about it a while back, before shit went to hell, and we lost a whole building to the fire.”
Oh yeah, the fire. The fucking Halloween party from hell. Apparently I spent the night riding an imaginary horse named after myself, but people had mostly stopped ribbing me for it now. Damn the few whose memories were clear, because mine really wasn’t.
“I mean, look. There’s so much we could do. A proper garage on site for working on repairs, and doing up the sale bikes. A proper spray area, for Rocket to customise our rides outside of my shop hours. A fucking kitchen, so we can actually eat real food instead of ordering in the same old crap.”
“Wish we had a Tommy of our own,” Micro said to Grease, who nodded, but I had no idea what that meant exactly, so I moved on.
“We need better gates, and security. We need a prospect hut near the gates, where they’re under cover while they’re not opening and closing gates.
Grease mentioned this before too, but that first gate to the compound should be further away, and have a secondary access point afterward.
That way people like his little PC friends wouldn’t have ever made it on site at all. ”
“Kinda worked in my favour in the end though,” he muttered smugly, but they knew I was right.
Grease scratched at his chin as he glanced around us.
“What kinda capital are we needing to knock this place down, and start from scratch?”
Hell. I hadn’t considered costing that up, because it was a pipe dream, but I knew it wouldn’t be cheap.
“A few hundred grand at least, and we’d need a demo party to trash this place, we’d need temporary huts brought onsite for us to keep things going while it happens. So, expensive.”
“Betting we’ve got guys in the club who have contacts and skills we haven’t tapped yet.” I nodded, because Micro was damn right. I knew a few who were in various trades. Smitty was a carpenter, and Dash was a plumber’s apprentice, so he’d have access and contacts, along with his own skills.
“You want me to work up some plans to go through? I can show you what I’m picturing for this place.”
Grease waited until Micro agreed, and then dropped his bombshell.
“We come up with something that’ll improve this place, and add a nice little suite for me and Jay too, and I’ll help fund it.”
The fuck?
We both stared open-mouthed at him, and he laughed.
“What, you think mafia guys don’t earn well, and have investments, and stockpile a shit-ton of money? I’d happily invest in improving this shithole, so I can bring a little taste of mafia comfort to the place.”
It suddenly occurred to me that if I hadn’t scared off a certain little lady, I might even have a willing helper with the designs and plans too.
All I had to do was convince her that we weren’t bad guys, and see if she could manage to find some time to help me out, and not be intimidated by everyone she meets along the way. Easy, huh?
Caroline
BY THE MORNING, I was practically buzzing with energy and excitement to get started on Rocket’s project for him. I’d even found what I needed in myself to finish my client’s website build that I’d been dragging my heels on, so as of this morning, I was free to focus completely on this.
I had to get a taxi to the shop instead of my favourite method of transport, because of course I had my scanner, laptop and other equipment with me, but when I arrived at Harley’s place, he stepped outside almost instantly, opened my door, and helped me out.
As I started gathering my things from the seat, he tapped on the driver’s window and chatted with him while I got out. He lifted my things from my arms, and the car drove off, while I was still processing the fact that Harley had just paid for it.
“You… you didn’t need to pay!” I gasped, following him to the door of his shop.
Harley, being the gentleman he was, even with an armful of my stuff, still pushed the door open and gestured to me to go inside first. There was already a desk waiting for me, between Harley’s and Rocket’s counters, a chair tucked under it, and best of all?
A steaming mocha and a muffin, both from the coffee shop we’d visited together.
Harley set my kit down carefully and backed up.
“Anything else you think you’ll need?”
I smiled at him, that earlier excitement buzzing through my veins again.
“I feel so special!” Damn my mouth!
Harley chuckled, guiding me to the chair, and easing it out for me to sit. It was even a proper office chair, so I could adjust it for comfort. It was like he’d thought of everything.
He tucked the chair back in as I sat and leaned close, his lips close enough to my ear that I felt his warm breath against my skin.
“You are special, Caroline, so you deserve to be treated that way.” I gasped, spinning the chair and nearly knocking him back a few steps.
“Dammit, sorry!”
“You two want a minute or something?” Rocket was suddenly looming over me, too close, and I tried to scoot the chair away, but before I could, Harley’s palm pressed him back firmly.
“Don’t stand over her like that. Give her the folder and fuck off back over there.”
“Aw, you say the sweetest things,” Rocket joked, setting the file down on the desk.
“Thanks for this, Caroline. You’re a lifesaver.”
He backed up and Harley crouched beside me. “Want me to help you set up?”
I shook my head, already reaching for my laptop. I was looking forward to setting up my desk and getting to work, even though this was far from being inside my comfort zone. It wasn’t terribly outside of it either though. Comfort zone adjacent, maybe, with slight overlap.
Harley felt like my safe place, and he clearly meant to keep Rocket far enough back that he couldn’t scare me.
“Thank you for the coffee and cake, Harley. That was really sweet of you.”
He shrugged, awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck, and looked relieved when the shop phone rang, and he disappeared off to answer it.
As I set up my laptop and scanner, Rocket crouched down and took the power leads as I extended them, plugging everything in for me.
He stayed down low, and glanced at Harley before he spoke.
“I’m sorry if I unnerve you, love. I’m a big, noisy fucker, but I’ll try to keep it down when you’re around. And thanks again for doing this. I swear, you’re getting a free spray, because this really means a lot to me. I’m shit at the organising side of things.”
“Rocket? Everything okay?” Harley had reappeared already, and Rocket stood up, smoothing his hands down his jeans.
“Yeah, I’m going away now. What time’s Grease getting here? I need to limber up before I kick his ass.” I started giggling, despite how terrifying the idea of a fight was, and I saw Rocket relax a little.
“You’ll let him do his thing, and keep it shut, okay? We both need this overhaul, and Grease and Jamie are the best. I know you two need fucking marriage counselling or something, but I have no idea why.”
Rocket snorted and disappeared behind his counter, grabbing his mask and ducking under the sheeting around his spray area.
“He gives you any trouble, you tell me.”
I tried to tell him that Rocket wasn’t being unpleasant or intimidating, but Harley just nudged my coffee closer to me, and backed up, leaving me to it.