Chapter 5
Rhodie
Ican’t believe I’ve let those fuckers get to me.
I know my woman. I know that when she says something, that’s what she means.
So tell me why I’ve been hiding in one of the clubhouse rooms most of the day trawling the internet for gator- inspired baby, daughter and mother shit.
And after coming up empty handed I now I have a meeting in town with a seamstress who seems open to making me “bespoke” shit.
I let out a long groan as I thump up the two steps to our cabin, opening the door.
“Hi Daddy,” Laney’s cute voice drifts through the room, causing my chest to flutter just a little. Like it always does when she calls me “Daddy.”
Kicking off my boots I let the door swing closed behind me as I look for my daughter.
She’s often in the same place, on the little rug in front of her bookcase, but sometimes she likes a little privacy, much like her momma.
Looking around the room I spot the little lump behind the drapes.
Moving closer I take a seat on the floor next to her, and marvel how she may not be ours by blood, but everything about her is so much like me and Chewy that it’s shocking.
“Hey baby, how did you know it was me?”
“Your boots go bump, bump-bahbump-bump.”
I grin as I move a little closer, curling my legs around her little body on the other side of the curtain. She leans in a little before whipping the fabric back and greeting me with a wide grin. She gently climbs onto my lap, resting her little cheek on the worn leather on my chest.
“I missed you today,” I tell her gently. “What have you been doing?”
“Learnin’,” she says, patting my arm gently.
“Yeah? What about?”
“About Saint Balentine. He makes people romantic,” she says this in a high pitched voice and I just know it’s the same voice Chewy would have used.
“That’s right, baby. It’s in a few days. All the men are planning surprises for all the Ol Ladies.”
“What kind of ‘prises?”
“Knowing your uncles, they probably won't be good.” I snort. “Shall we go find momma?”
“She’s practicing.” Laney says very seriously.
“Practicing what, baby?” I ask, standing with her in my arms.
She may only be three, but she’s verbally very advanced.
Chewy thinks it’s her brain optimizing routine, and I think she could be right.
Especially when Laney’s cousin Jr comes to visit.
The boy isn't too much younger than Laney but he’s definitely not as bright.
Last time he was here we had to keep him away from chewing the corner of the rug.
“Her ideas,” Laney answers mysteriously.
“Chewy?” I call out through the house.
“In here!”
I follow the sound of my Ol Lady’s voice coming to a stop in the back spare room Chewy uses as an office.
“Ah, babe, what the fuck are you doing?” My heart skips a beat until I can get a good look at her setup.
My woman is growing our baby and yet she has no awareness as to what or where her body parts are at the best of times, or how dangerous things are.
Since I found out she was pregnant I’ve been having to keep extra tabs on her to keep her, Laney and our unborn nugget safe.
She looks up at me through her goggles, a huge grin on her face as she holds a wood burning tool on one hand, the smouldering wood on the bench suspiciously pussy looking.
“I’m making char-coochie boards for my Girl Gang for Galentine’s! Rider told me to be myself. So I am. I’ve been making personalised char-coochies based on what I think the Ol Ladies coochies would look like. This is Ana’s. I guessed she’d have a bush.”
She proudly holds up an ovalish shaped board where she has painstakingly burnt the shape of a very nice vagina into it, and then covered the top with strokes and swirls to look like hair.
“Ah, woooooow, that’s, ah, really good babe.” I glance down at Laney who looks almost as confused as I do, but she has the good grace to clap her hands at her mother’s excitement.
“Thanks, Laney,” Chewy grins. “I’m pretty proud of this one. I’m working on Mira’s muff next.”
“Well, OK then. I’ll organize dinner, you just keep doing you, baby.”
“I love you!” she calls out after me as I carry our daughter away from her mother’s wooden pussies.
“Love you too, Chewy. More than you’ll ever know.”
Marx
“When’s Valentine’s? Four days away?” Dad asks as he slicks the tattoo glide onto my skin with his pinky, before getting his gun into position.
I grunt as the needle hits my skin, the pinch and slight burn welcome on my chest.
“And how exactly are you going to hide this from Lovely before the big day, son?” My eyes dart to Mad Dog’s and I ignore the smirk on his face.
“That’s easy,” Pops says, from the tattoo chair next to mine, sucker in his mouth.
“When I got mine done for Debs I just would keep my top on. Throw her on the bed, make her think that I wasn’t removing all my clothes because I just needed to be inside her so bad.
” His removes the sucker from his mouth with a “pop”, pointing it at me, “That wasn’t a lie, either. ”
That’s not a bad plan, actually. “I hadn’t actually thought that far ahead. But that’s a good idea Pops.”
“I know, I’m full of them.”
I eye him from my slightly reclined position as Mad Dog works on my chest piece.
My arms have been done for years, so have my legs, back and ribs, but for some reason, I never had my chest filled in.
I can see now that I was waiting. Waiting for my woman and daughter and any more children we might add.
“Why are you here, anyway?” I throw back.
When Dad wanted to start up tattooing again, and taking on Lovely as his apprentice, the club, along with Landry investment, purchased this red brick building on Rose Grove’s main street.
It’s raw, almost industrial, and large, which is something that most tattoo places are not.
Mad Dog’s room is large enough for two tattoo chairs, and a small seating area for clients’ friends or family. Or in this case, the Love Pres.
“I’m waiting on Rider. We have a Valentine's Day meeting.” He shrugs, sucker back in his mouth.
“I thought Rider had everything planned out?”
“He does. He just needs a little extra help is all.”
My gaze narrows on Pops, who grins at me. Mad Dog chuckles under his breath but has the good grace to avoid my eye contact. “What are you three up to?”
“Nothing,” Pops and Mad Dog answer a little too fast.
I jab my finger in first Pops’ direction, then Mad Dog’s. “I don’t condone this, whatever the fuck kind of relationship you two have.”
“Ew, don’t say it like that. You’ve ruined it now, asshole.
” Pops says, swinging his legs off the tattoo chair before standing and heading for the door.
He turns to look at me, hand on the door handle, a scowl on his face.
“I hope he spells Lovely’s name wrong.” He cackles on his way out, slamming the door behind him.
I stare at Mad Dog. “You really couldn't find someone better to hang out with?”
“Well, aside from the fact he’s a pain in the ass, he means well. Like every other fucker in your MC.” He snorts. “So, what else have you got planned? This is romantic and all, but you need more. I overheard Tank say that he’s organized a hot air balloon.”
“What the fuck?” I flinch when I turn too quickly and the needle goes a little deep.
“Stay still before I fuck this up,” Mad Dog growls.
“Sorry. A hot air balloon?”
“Yeah, apparently Mira’s been talking about it. Judge spoke to an old army buddy that now trains dogs and has organized for Kaia to maybe go look at some for the kids.”
I lean my head back, groaning. Shit. I thought I was onto something with this chest piece representing Lovely and Bee and what they mean to me. But shit, I need more. I need to go big.
“Fuck, this is Lovely’s first proper Valentine’s, I need it to be special.”
Mad Dog looks at me patiently, over the spectacles he wears when he’s tattooing. “Son, do you not think it’ll be special because she has you? She’s a simple woman, she’d be over the moon with flowers or chocolates or just a date night.”
“Fuck that, I need to go big. I need Rider. Where has that fucker been anyway? He’s been real elusive lately.” My gaze darts to my dad. “Do you think he has a woman?”
Mad Dog’s eyes widen before darting away, acting real interested in the line he’s working on. “Who’s to say?”
“What do you know?” I growl.
“Nothing.”
“I call bullshit.”
“You can call it whatever you want. I don’t know a thing other than he’s been visiting someone over at one of the retirement homes.”
“What the fuck?”
Mad Dog shrugs as he twists to fill up his ink pot. “You’ll have to ask him, son.”
I grumble as I lie back, getting comfortable again. Our brother is hiding something, and I want to know what it is. I also want to know what the fuck else my men have planned for their women. And why the hell I’m struggling to come up with anything good.
Rolling my head to the side to watch Mad Dog work, I clear my throat. “What other Valentine’s plans have you heard around the compound?”
Mad Dog’s mouth twists. “The Tombs’, all independently came up with the same idea so they were looking for Rider to help organize something else.
Tank has the hot air balloon, Judge has been talking about puppies.
Wire was compiling all the messages he and Remy have sent over the years, since they were like eight or something, into a book about their journey, complete with pictures of them both. ”
“What the fuck? That’s so romantic!” I groan, feeling even shittier.
“Fucking romantic,” Mad Dog agrees. “Ah, Fox had some shitty idea about life sized dolls of him and Nitro-”
“What the hell?”
“Exactly. So they were at a loss and looking for Rider. You’ve got this going on, Pops has a fireworks show planned for Mama Debs and Rhodie is in a panic about what to get Chewy. He’s still maintaining that she doesn’t want anything.”
“So pretty much, those with no idea all want Rider to help them?”
Mad Dog snorts, “Pretty much.”
I lie there, quietly as I watch my dad’s hands in his black silicone gloves move over my skin. “What about you, Dad?”
“No one on my dance card, kid. Maybe you only get one great love and I’ve already had that with my Molly.
” He gives me a sad smile, the one I catch on his face every now and again when he watches our MC brothers settling down.
We thought that he had found love again, but he was mistaken. I think that was more friendship.
“Do me a favor? Don’t close yourself off. You deserve to be happy, Dad. And I’m sure one day you’ll be minding your business and it’ll hit you. Your second love. Because I don’t think Molly would have left you without having a backup plan.”
Mad Dog snorts, knowing full well that Rhodie’s mother, and the woman I called and loved like a mother, would never have left without a backup plan.
It’s how she was. She came into the clubhouse and whipped us all into shape.
She took me from a feral child with a bitch of a mother, to a mommy’s boy in 2 seconds flat.
She loved hard and when she passed her absence was felt acutely.
I guess it’s eased somewhat, since the women have arrived, and on some level I have to wonder if she did that too.
Sent us all our perfect matches. I mean, it’s the only fucking way we can explain how the hell Jules found someone to love, grumpy bastard.
“You know what son? If lightning strikes twice I’ll make sure I’m open to it.”
“Good. Now, where the fuck is Rider? I need his help.”