Chapter 1
CHAPTER
ONE
BamBam
I listen to Livy as she quietly tells Mongrel the things she and little man will need. I’m not worried about the money I’m about to spend because I’ve got more than enough to last me beyond my lifetime.
As a chapter, we mostly run on the right side of the law, but we’ve got a few things we do that are a bit more in the gray area and those jobs pay extremely well.
While many of our other chapters have their fingers in plenty of illegal pies, our national president, Big Daddy, was insistent that individual chapters would have autonomy over the businesses they ran as long as their national dues were paid and current.
Since I’ve been a part of the club for more than ten years and I’m an officer, my piece of the money pie is pretty fucking good.
Add to the fact that I live at the clubhouse, and my expenses are almost negligible.
I mean, obviously, I have two bikes, which I’ve customized to handle my sizable bulk, but other than that, I rarely spend money.
I finally find a big box department store and pull in, dropping Mongrel off at the front with his list and my credit card, before I find a parking spot in the back of the lot.
“I’m going to check on the horses,” I tell Livy as I open my door.
“Since Mongrel’s going to be a bit, might be a good time to take care of Theo. ”
He’s been steadily wailing, and I pray to God that whoever hurt her so badly didn’t touch a hair on that baby’s head. I’m not good about a kid’s age, but he’s small enough to be in one of those pouches that I’ve seen women use before, so I’d guess under six months old at least.
Getting into the back of the trailer, I talk to Issy’s horses as I fill up their feed bags then use the portable water tank to fill up their water trough.
“Y’all go ahead and get you some,” I tell them, gently rubbing my hands along their sides.
“I know you’ll be spoiled as hell once we’re home because you both did so well this weekend, but right now, I’m betting you’re hungry. ”
I grin because Pancho and Luis take very good care of all the horses that are at the ranch, whether they’re the ones the hands use to work the land or those that we board.
But when it comes to Issy’s horses? They tend to go overboard.
While all of them get the best feed available, Issy’s get the extras; the apples and carrots, along with sugar cubes.
It takes Mongrel about ninety minutes to buy everything and when he texts me, I meet him at the front so he can get the bags loaded. Once he’s inside, I again pull toward the back of the parking lot and order, “Help me get the car seat set up.”
He jumps out of the truck and heads to the bed.
Before I can say a word, he has the contraption out of the box and is handing it to me while his head is bent over the directions.
“Says here we need to put it in so the kid is rear facing.” At my questioning look, he turns the instructions around and I see pictures to go along with the words.
“Livy?” I ask, drawing her attention to me.
She looks ready to drop and I briefly wonder if she’s going into shock or something.
It could just be an adrenaline dump, too, who knows?
My medical skills are pretty non-existent, outside of basic first aid.
I have better luck diagnosing and helping the horses than I do a person, if I’m being totally honest with myself.
“Oh! Okay, let me see those, please?” she asks, holding out her hand to Mongrel.
“This one is really nice,” she murmurs, reaching over with her right hand to maneuver the seat the way it’s supposed to go.
“I’ll need help with this part,” she says.
“There’s supposed to be an anchor thingie that the seatbelt passes through. ”
“Got it,” Mongrel says. “Dang, this truck has all the bells and whistles, doesn’t it? Looks like there are built-in anchors as well.”
It doesn’t take long before Theo is properly ensconced in his new car seat, and I get my first good look at the little boy.
He’s not all that big, but his mom is a tiny thing herself, so that makes sense to me.
Thankfully, Mongrel bought something that cradles the baby, so he won’t be tossed around during the drive.
“Thank you,” she says once Mongrel gets back into the passenger side of the truck. “I don’t even know your name and I’m pretty sure his mother didn’t name him Mongrel.”
I burst out laughing; the disgruntled look on her face is absolutely priceless.
She may have one eye nearly swollen shut and the rest of her is covered in bruises and bloody marks, but the further we get from where we picked her up, the more I see her tension recede.
She’s not fully relaxed, of course, because we’re both virtual strangers, but I feel confident that she’ll come into her own once she gets help, that is.
“I go by BamBam,” I tell her.
“Let me guess, it’s not because your mother was a closet Flintstones fan,” she says. “Maybe it’s because you fight a lot?”
Mongrel starts laughing but I shut that shit down with a glare worthy of my position. “No, my mother was a Dark Shadows fan. My last name is Collins.”
Her eyes widen before she starts to giggle.
“You mean… you mean your first name is Barnabas?” she whispers.
“That’s priceless. Wanna know what my last name is?
” Before I can hazard a guess, she blurts out, “Benson! Yeah, my mom loved Law and Order: SVU so when she found out she was having a girl, she decided to name me after the character because, in her words, I needed a badass name.”
Chuckling, I close the back door then heft myself into the driver’s seat and buckle up. “My road name came because of the teasing I got in school,” I admit. “I was in more than one fight and because they always got hit twice, my dad said my new name was gonna be BamBam.”
She’s about to reply when she starts yawning. “I’m sorry,” she mumbles, a light blush filtering through the bruises.
“Why don’t you try and get some rest?” I ask. “It’s gonna be another hour or two before we get to the clubhouse. I’ve already sent a text to my president so they’re getting a room ready for you and Theo.”
“That sounds like a good idea. Thanks for getting me some wipes and Tylenol, Mongrel,” she says.
I glance in the rearview mirror and see her take several of the pain killers and swallow it down with the soda that Mongrel got for her.
He also got drinks for the two of us since our cooler was pretty much empty.
“I think you should wait to clean off the blood,” I tell her when she opens up the wipes. At her questioning glance, I continue. “It could all start bleeding again. I’d feel better if you waited for Doc to check you over because some of them could need stitches or something.”
“Good point,” she murmurs, grabbing the fuzzy throw that was not on the list and covering herself.
I glare at Mongrel who merely shrugs. “She looked dead on her feet and my mama always said a woman couldn’t have too many throws. If it makes you feel any better, I picked those few things up with my own money since they weren’t on the list.”
While I was initially ticked that he added things without talking to me first, now I’m angry because for whatever reason, Livy’s mine to take care of.
Instead of yelling at him, I nod because he’s right.
Issy may not be the stereotypical female, but she enjoys her throws and they’re all over the place at the clubhouse now that she’s at the ranch full time.
Granted, they live in the big house, not the physical clubhouse, but her influence has spread everywhere.
Hell, I’ve caught a few of the brothers using them when they decide to nap in the common room, for fuck’s sake.
Shaking my head, I keep my thoughts to myself and with the satellite radio on low, continue the journey toward home.
As I drive, I run over what I think Livy’s going to need to fully heal from the hell she’s been living with.
She definitely needs therapy, and while that’s not something we’ve ever dealt with, if I know Issy, I’m sure she’s already doing research on how best we can help her.