Chapter 16
CHAPTER
SIXTEEN
Doc
We’re all sitting around the common room, drinking beer and waiting for dinner to be served when the door to the clubhouse opens and Mongrel walks in, saying, “Big Daddy and a bunch of his brothers are here, pres.”
Rio, Abyss, and BamBam stand like a well-oiled machine and head to the doors, with the rest of us filtering in behind them. Riptide, Indiana, and Icer are close to the front as well. I’ve never met Big Daddy, but with him being the national president, his reputation precedes him.
“Big Daddy,” Rio says, his hand already up. Instead, he’s pulled into a hug, his back pounded so hard I think he might need a chiropractor, before he steps back.
“Sorry to hear about Pokey,” Big Daddy says. “He came out to the rally for quite a few years, back when Paps was alive. A good, solid brother. Just gonna say this much and leave it be, but cancer fucking sucks.”
“You got that right, brother,” Rio replies. He then tugs Issy forward, her hand firmly in his and says, “This is my ol’ lady, Isla, although she won’t answer to it so just call her Issy.”
Big Daddy chuckles as he reaches behind him and out pops his ol’ lady. “This is my Gwynee.”
“Anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, please let me know,” Issy says to Gwynee.
“I will, thank you.”
“Now that the women have been introduced, here’s my VP, Hero, my chaplain, Soulless, and my road captain, Wicked. Oh, and his daughter, Sissy, who we prefer not to leave to her own devices,” Big Daddy states, giving Rio a look.
Rio must understand what he was saying because he nods. “Issy, if you’ll show Gwynee where they’re staying, I’m sure the brothers would like to wash the taste of the road outta their mouths. I know you brought a cage, but if y’all have your bikes, we can take a ride later.”
“Would like that,” Big Daddy replies, walking to the bar. He turns to Sissy and says, “Behave.”
She rolls her eyes at him and flounces off behind Issy and Gwynee.
I see the other ol’ ladies are surrounding them now and know that by the time we sit down for a meal, all of them will be cackling like they’ve known each other for years.
It takes a special woman to live with men like us, and when they come into the fold, they tend to keep to themselves unless there are other ol’ ladies around.
Sure enough, as Mongrel and Mutt work to pass out drinks, I can hear laughter and giggles coming from the tables that have been pushed together so the women can talk.
I notice that little Gage is actually with his mother, then I bite my grin back when I notice that Icer is standing behind her, glaring at anyone who gets too close to him or Elodie, who is enthralled with all the attention she’s currently getting.
“How was the ride?” I ask Wicked. Since he’s their road captain, I figure he’s the one who mapped out their route.
“I swear to Christ that every fucking state has some kind of massive construction project going,” he grumbles as he tosses back a shot.
“It wouldn’t be so bad, but the bikes don’t do as well since they’re not built to idle.
So, I was constantly checking to see if we could lane split, because the last thing I wanted was for any one of us to get pulled over, y’know? ”
I nod, then say, “And then you got to Texas, and found that not only the major interstates were jacked up, but so were the service roads.”
“I think all the detours and shit added about three hours to our trip. Plus, when Gwynee found out we could go to Buc-ee’s, we had a stop there that lasted another hour.
At least we got some pulled pork sandwiches while we waited.
I think she’d still be there if Big Daddy hadn’t put his foot down,” Wicked adds.
“We’re stopping for the rest of the shit she wanted on the way back,” Big Daddy interjects, grumbling, causing us to laugh. He shrugs then states, “We’ve got room in the cage, so why not? It’ll keep Sissy entertained at least.”
Constance and Maria go all out for our guests, putting on a Tex-Mex spread that I would put up against the most well-known restaurant that serves the same food on their menu.
Homemade guacamole, burritos, enchiladas, soft- and hard-shell tacos, queso with and without spicy meat, three different salsas with their own heat factors, and to top it all off, cheesecake stuffed sopapillas.
“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Soulless groans as he wipes his mouth. “I wonder if I can talk either one of them into coming back to California with us.”
“They both come with husbands who’ve worked this ranch for so long, I wouldn’t mess with them,” BamBam replies. “And yes, their food is divine. We’re used to it and when you see what the women have planned after the funeral, you’re gonna go back to Cali about ten pounds heavier.”
“Good thing my bike’s rated for my weight plus about another two hundred pounds if memory serves,” Soulless retorts. “Because I’m going to enjoy whatever they make.”
“Have you tried the sopapillas yet?” Gretchen asks. When he shakes his head, she hands him one from her plate. “Go ahead but be prepared, you’ll be going to fill up a plate for yourself.”
He immediately bites into it and makes a sound I’ve never heard outside of a bedroom. When Wicked cuffs him, he glares at him and yells, “What? This thing is fucking orgasmic!”
“Sissy’s here,” Wicked hisses.
“And? She lives around bikers, she’s not stupid or blind, regardless of what you guys may think,” Soulless jeers. Looking around, he spots Sissy, who doesn’t even have the faintest blush on her face at his antics. He points at her and adds, “See what I mean? She’s unfazed.”
Wicked shakes his head and grumbles, “I’m going to get something else to drink. I think I need it to deal with your nonsense.”
When he walks away, Soulless grins at me. “That shit makes my day,” he admits. “The fucker’s too serious most of the time, so any time I can, I pull his chain.”
I chuckle because several of my brothers will do the same thing. “Eh, he’s family and we’re allowed to pick on family, right?” I ask.
“All day, every day!” Soulless exclaims. “Now, I’m off to find my own plate of sopapillas.”
Gretchen does her best to hang with us, but I finally take pity on her and send her up to bed.
With brothers from two different chapters here for tomorrow’s funeral and wake, the alcohol is now flowing after we went on a ride once dinner was done.
I’m trying to pace myself because I’ve found that the older I get, the harder it is to recover from a hangover, but then I realize I have the means to make myself a ‘banana bag’ in the morning if I have to get rehydrated quickly.
“Remember the time we had to stop at that truck stop to work on Cue’s bike?
The brother’s our fucking road captain, yet it was his bike that broke down on a run,” Preacher asks, before he bursts out laughing.
“There we were, four of us crouched around his bike as we tried to figure out what was going on and Pokey was standing watch since several of the other brothers were inside grabbing drinks. All of a sudden, a lot lizard comes over and tries to hit on Pokey.”
By now, several brothers who were on that run are laughing so hard, they’re slapping their thighs or the table in remembrance.
I was working a double shift at the hospital at the time, so I missed out on the live version.
Still, the story is funny, so I continue listening, sipping at my latest whiskey.
“He looks her up and down, then does it again, before he asks, ‘Why the fuck would I pay for the likes of you, when I’ve got girls who look a shit ton better waiting on me at home?’” Preacher says.
“Well, she took offense to what he was saying about her looks and started hitting him with her purse, which was more like one of those tote bags. So there he is, ducking and dodging her swipes while trying to keep her away from all of us and our bikes, when Rio walks out and sees what’s happening.
He yells for her to stop, then proceeds to tell her that she’s taking her life in her own hands by trying to fuck with the Kings.
The chick nearly pissed herself as she scuttled away, still cursing at Pokey but doing it a lot more quietly than she was.
By the time the brothers got done fixing Cue’s bike, we were somewhat surrounded by the truckers.
Seems the lot lizard had a lot of friends who took exception to what Pokey said about her looks. ”
“What happened then?” Soulless asks. “I mean, I assume you guys got out of there safely.”
Big Daddy, who’s been listening and laughing along with the others, points at Rio and says, “That fucker called me, told me I was on speaker and to go along with it, then he asked if I had the electric chair ready or not because they were going to be heading that way with a few test subjects!”
At this point, everyone’s laughing as Rio shrugs.
“Hey, it worked, didn’t it? Paps always told me that if I ever got in a position where I needed to prove who had the bigger balls, to make that call.
Those fuckers ran so fast back to their trucks it shook the ground.
We didn’t waste any time either, and got back on the road as quickly as humanly possible. ”
“Nobody fucks with the Kings!” Abyss exclaims, causing a round of shouts from the brothers who have been steadily drinking.
“You got that right,” Big Daddy roars.
As the night drags on, more stories from the road emerge.
Some are funny, others not so much when it comes to times where brothers were arrested for little to no reason.
Since some of the chapters dabble on the grayer side of the line, everyone in a Kings cut is earmarked as a potential suspect for something, even when they’re out on a simple drugstore run for their ol’ lady, as one brother shared.
Still, despite the solemnity for why we’re all gathered, it’s good to be able to see brothers that we otherwise don’t unless we go out to the rally in Anarchy, California. We obviously see Riptide and the East Texas crew far more often, of course, but there’s never a lack of things to discuss.
It’s about three in the morning before I finally give in. Looking at Rio, I say, “Gonna try to get a few hours of sleep since it’s going to be a bit hectic later on.”
“Good thing shit won’t kick off until I’m up,” he retorts. “Well, me and the other two presidents, that is.”
Snickering, I head to the stairs, waving at the brothers who call out their good nights.
I finally make it to my room and grin when I see Gretchen splayed across the bed, her hair a messy tangle across the sheets.
While I want nothing more than to crawl into bed beside her, I smell like a fucking brewery thanks to Richie Rich spilling a mug of beer on me.
So, instead, I take the quickest shower known to mankind and soon, I’m slipping beneath the sheets to wrap myself around her.
“You’re here,” she mumbles.
“Yeah, baby. Go back to sleep,” I reply, kissing her temple.