Chapter 17
Emily
I went back to our suite and took a long, hot shower.
I’ll admit that I overreacted when Onyx refused to let me come with him to look for Brennan.
Maybe I shouldn’t have wanted to go, but I did.
I don’t want to let him live rent free in my head anymore.
That’s why I wanted to be there when they tracked him down.
To look him in the eye and show him I’m not scared.
Sure, I used to be afraid. But I’m a different person now.
Watching the men and women swagger around this clubhouse, tall and proud, has unleashed something in me.
I might not be physically strong like Onyx but seeing his mom and how she and Tessa rule the clubhouse and don’t take any shit, has shown me that it’s okay to speak up.
No more mousey little Emily.
Queenie invited me to breakfast and told me to wear something comfortable.
She said they were having an old ladies’ morning together.
I don’t know what that means or if she meant I should wear loungewear, leggings, or jeans.
I chose a faded pair of jeans from my suitcase and a t-shirt from the donation bin in the laundry room with the club’s logo on the front.
Of course, I wear my property cut. I wouldn’t fit in with the other old ladies if I didn’t.
Plus, I like wearing Onyx’s cut. I like the way it sits on my body and makes me feel close to him.
Tessa is standing at the kitchen counter beating a bowl of eggs with a whisk. She gives me a smile when I walk into the kitchen. They seem to be putting the finishing touches on a late breakfast. I can’t help but smile at the warm acceptance she projects.
Christina is standing at the table with her daughter, Katie, who is perched on a stool. Katie is busy buttering bread. There are smears of butter on the counter, the plate, and her fingers. The little one is deep in concentration. Christina patiently lets her get the hang of it.
Queenie smiles at me when I come close to her to grab a cup of coffee. “Mornin’ sunshine,” she teases.
“Sorry, I slept in.”
“No problem,” she responds, sliding the rest of the bacon she’s frying onto a platter. “We all do that every now and then.”
“I’m making good progress on organizing and archiving the club records.”
“Considering everything you’ve been through, I don’t think we need to rush that job.” She wipes her hands on her apron. “Are you hungry? As soon as the toast is done, we’re gonna settle down at the family table and eat.”
“I’m starving. What can I do to help?”
Queenie shoves the plate of bacon into my hands. “We can start carrying food out.”
“I’m on it.”
The club girls are at the far end of the kitchen making eggs for the prospects on guard duty. There are only a few men left in the building. The rest are out searching for Brennan. I hope they find him and no one gets hurt.
We finish taking out the food and Queenie grabs the pot of coffee and carries it out. There’s something so heartwarming about the whole scene. Seeing Queenie, Tessa, Christina, their children, and the club girls all gathered round.
Family.
The table is made from a huge, thick piece of wood with a raw edge.
It’s been sanded smooth and coated with a thick protective finish that reflects the overhead lighting.
If you look close enough, you can see tiny lines scratched into it by years of flatware and glasses being moved restlessly around, waiting for the food to arrive or for everyone to finish eating.
I love this table and all that it represents.
We finally sit down and put out cups of coffee near the top of our plates, and Queenie passes the first in a long line of platters heaped with food around the table. The first few minutes are quiet as we load up our plates and take the first tentative bites.
Queenie is the first to speak.
“You know, I didn’t grow up thinking this would be my life,” she says, stirring sugar into her coffee. “I thought I’d marry a farmer and raise chickens.”
Tessa teases her mother-in-law. “That sounds like too quiet a life for someone with such a big personality.”
Queenie chuckles. “You ain’t wrong about that, Tess.”
Christina smiles over her mug. “You ended up with a much better life than most women ever have. You and Rock founded a legacy club, carved out a life on your own terms, and had four gorgeous sons who seem determined to stick with the family business. I know that Slate can’t imagine doing anything else with his life besides being VP of this club. ”
“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Queenie agrees. “I’m thrilled with my life. I’m just saying that if I’d not ran away, I’d have missed out on the life I love. Sometimes the best things are the ones you don’t see coming.”
Tessa sets her mug down. “I never had a thought in my mind of becoming the club queen of the Sons of Rage MC. I didn’t really understand what this club was all about and thought it was an outlaw club that ran drugs and stuff.
Jasper was quick to set me straight about that, and I’m really glad I gave him and this club a chance.
I’ve never been happier a day in my life. ”
Queenie beams at Tessa and murmurs, “I’m glad you did, honey. You make a good club queen for my Jasper. He’s lucky to have you at his side.”
Tessa’s face lights up. “Oh, let’s be honest. I’m the lucky one because I ended up with a wonderful husband and get to be part of this life.”
Christina senses this is her moment to speak up, so she does.
Glancing at me, she explains, “Slate and I met during the war in Afghanistan. We were attracted to each other immediately. A soldier and a reporter might seem like an odd match, but it worked, right up until everything exploded around us.”
I get the sense that she means metaphorically rather than a literal bomb. I don’t know much about the other old ladies so I’m eager to hear more.
“He gave up his seat on the last flight out for me,” Christina says. “I didn’t know until later that they drummed him out of the military on a dishonorable discharge for that. He had to fight his way out on his own.”
“Jesus, it’s shitty that the military didn’t try to help out,” I say, surprised.
“They listed him as AWOL.”
Queenie murmurs quietly, “The military has their own rules and procedures to follow.”
Her hand reaches out to touch Christina’s shoulder.
“I found out I was pregnant after returning to the US.” Swallowing thickly, she adds, “When we reconnected, I had the same concerns about living at an MC. I’m glad that I took a chance because now I’m living my best life with the man I love, and Katie gets to have her dad in her life.”
I interject without thinking, “That’s an amazing story. It should be part of the club’s archives. When Onyx told me that he manages all the club’s business and that they are all above board, it jogged old memories of my grandfather telling me something similar growing up.”
Queenie gets teary at the mention of my grandfather and murmurs, “He was a good man. Rock still talks about him all the time. When your grandfather passed, it left a big hole where his best friend used to be.”
I nod, trying not to get emotional. “I’m just glad I grew up around the club and your boys. Knowing them and trusting them made coming to stay here a lot easier.”
Breakfast continues, and I lose myself in the homeyness of it all. Tessa’s nursing her baby, Christina’s watching over her daughter as she tries to spoon cereal but gets half of it over herself and Queenie watches over them like a proud grandma. I could get used to this.
My eyes wander over to the other table where the club girls are eating their breakfast. I see Heaven, the bitchy club girl. I’ve been trying to avoid her. She’s sitting beside Silver. I don’t know much about her, only that whenever her name is mentioned, Onyx rolls his eyes.
Turning to Queenie, I ask, “So what’s Silver’s story? Everyone keeps saying how she’s changed. Was she trouble?”
Queenie’s spoon pauses halfway to her mouth. For a second, her eyes go distant—like she’s seeing something that happened long before my question. Then she snorts softly and sets the spoon down with a quiet clink.
“Trouble?” she repeats, like she’s tasting the word. “Honey, trouble’s a polite way to put it.”
Christina makes an interested sound, wiping a sticky piece of cereal off her daughter’s chin. Tessa’s gaze flicks up from her baby, curious too, like the whole table has leaned in without meaning to.
Queenie notices. “I’ll keep it short, I don’t want to bore Tessa and Christina with the story,” she says, though the way her mouth sets tells me she’s lying. Queenie doesn’t do short unless she has to and going by the looks on her daughters-in-law’s faces they certainly don’t mind hearing it again.
“Silver didn’t start out with us. She came over from Savage Legion. They’re an MC based in Salinas County.”
I blink. “Wait, Silver was with another club?”
“She was a club girl,” Queenie says, her voice brisk. “But she hung around them like she owned the place. Thought she did, I guess.”
At the far end of the room, Silver laughs at something Heaven says. It’s a quick sound, not warm. More like the kind of laugh you use when you’re trying to make yourself louder than the room. Attention seeking. I kind of feel sorry for her.
Queenie follows my gaze and her eyes narrow.
“Don’t look at her like she’s a lost puppy,” she mutters. “She’ll bite you just to prove she can.”
I raise my hands a little. “I’m not—I’m just trying to understand.”
Queenie studies me, then sighs. “Alright. You want the story, honey? You get the story. But you don’t go repeating it like gossip. That girl has earned every side-eye she gets.”
“I won’t,” I promise, and I mean it. Something about Queenie’s tone makes my spine straighten. This isn’t just curiosity to her. This is history. If I’m getting involved with Onyx and his family, then I want to know their stories.