Chapter 3
CHAPTER
THREE
Riptide
With war on the horizon and the other shit that’s gone on in the last eight plus months since Gage took a bullet for Rio, we’re finally nearing the time for his send off. The Onyx Dragons have kept themselves underground for the most part.
Outside of some annoying vandalization and petty teenage pranks—like sugar in our gas tanks, we haven’t seen any evidence that they’re still in town.
Unsurprisingly, we were fined by the city council for the clubhouse going boom even though that was out of our hands.
It’s not like we wanted to spend the astronomical amount we did to fix it up.
But with the Onyx pussies having a connection to the officials in town, I’m surprised we didn’t end up eating more bullshit than we did.
We are still riding around in no less than groups of two, more if we can pull it off, and with Gage’s sendoff happening in the next week, we’re going to split our forces so some of us stay put to watch over the club and business while the rest of us ride off to pay our last respects to a man who was like a brother to some of us.
Primarily those of us who grew up in Rio’s chapter.
Indiana wasn’t raised with us, but he came in during his teenage years and had a connection to Gage that matched ours.
Nova is sticking around because his women are batshit crazy and don’t do well if he’s gone for an extended period of time.
Sphinx will be staying back as well because when he came home with one less eye and traumatized from the torture they put him through, he’s suffering from a form of PTSD, and so far, with his outings that’ve taken him away from the clubhouse, he hasn’t done well in large crowds.
Even with us surrounding him on all sides he’s paranoid and twitchy.
He won’t talk about his experience being a captive of the Dragons, but I have a feeling it’s worse than what my imagination can conjure up.
“Riptide, I think that with things so squirrely and up in the air, only a handful should head to Rio’s,” Slayer recommends.
I glance around the table, my head swiveling from one of my brothers to the other.
We’re having a last minute church meeting because there’s been conflict on who’s being left behind and who isn’t.
“That’s where my train of thought was leading me, too,” I convey.
“I know we all want to go and show our last respects to one of our fallen, but I have this feeling that with the majority of us out of town, it gives the Dragons the opening they need to destroy everything we have.” Gage may not have been a patched member, but once upon a time, he was an honorary one, and that means just as much to us as a man with his name stitched onto leather.
“I wouldn’t put it past them to do exactly that,” Indiana sneers, smacking his hand onto the top of the table. “They’re a gang of weaselly motherfuckers.”
“Nobody’s debating that, Indiana. We know they’re sly and will take advantage of our numbers being next to nonexistent. Right now, we need a head count of who’s going and who’s staying,” I address.
Icer crosses his arms across his chest and declares, “I’m going.” I nod my head because I know that him coming along is for more than saying goodbye since he could care less that someone he considers a traitor is gone.
“I’m going, too,” Indiana declares. “Zoey and Elodie are coming with me though and they’ll be driving the SUV. I’ve already had it detailed and looked over. The oil has been changed along with the filters and the tires have been rotated. It’s good to go and they’re already packed.”
“It’s safer if they’re with us anyway,” I add. “Who else?”
Rebel and LoneStar hold up their hands so I glance over at our secretary, Sketch, to make sure he’s marking their names down as he summarizes our meeting.
When I see the pen in his hand moving ninety to nothing, I know he is so I twist my head back to the men and watch for who else raises their hands.
Only two more pop theirs up and I nod my head at Scripture and Shade to let them know I saw them add their names to the pot.
“That’s seven of us leaving alongside Zoey and Elodie.
It eases me knowing that there’ll be enough of you around to keep things running.
Slayer will be handing out assignments so that you know who is covering our jobs while we’re away.
” My eyes zone in on Icer, waiting for him to insist Letti is going to be joining us, but he keeps his eyes averted and I know better than to ask any questions about something he’s not voluntarily speaking about.
“We’ll be riding out first thing in the morning, make sure you’re all out in the lot no later than seven. ”
I bang the gavel but stay glued to my seat and wait to see who needs to speak with me privately. It’s something I’ve always done because not all of my men are comfortable talking about what’s going on in their life with an audience full of nosy as fuck brothers.
Indiana pats Icer on the shoulder but follows everyone else out of the room. Once it’s cleared, Icer turns his head and opens his mouth, telling me, “Letti wants more.”
“More what, brother?” I ask him, wanting him to expand on his thoughts because I could come up with a plethora of things she may be wanting from him that he’s not ready to mentally give.
His childhood, from what I know of it, was horrible.
His dad got his kicks by beating his son, and I’m not talking a belt swat here and there, I’m talking full fist to his being where he suffered several broken bones.
He was a brutal man. Icer wasn’t his only victim, though I have to admit even if it’s only to myself, the club was kept in the dark and my paps knew nothing of the barbaric abuse taking place behind closed doors or he would’ve put a stop to it.
I have zero doubts about that because if there’s one thing he didn’t tolerate it was a bully, especially one in his ranks.
And since Icer’s dad was an officer, it would’ve been nixed and there would’ve been a price to be paid.
“Of what I can’t give her,” he says, leering at me. “I’m not relationship material, Rip. Everyone knows that. I have… issues.”
“We all do, brother,” I reiterate. “Do you care about Letti?”
“Almost more than anything,” he admits. “But that doesn’t mean I should make her my old lady, Rip.
A woman and kids aren’t what I want. Not now.
Not ever.” I don’t miss the way he emphasizes almost, but I decide not to broach on that because if he’s talking, I want him to get this shit off his chest, not have a therapy session with him.
He doesn’t deal well with someone trying to psychoanalyze him.
“Are you sure about that?” I ask, steepling my fingers and placing my elbows onto the table to stabilize myself.
Getting him to admit anything is a new experience and I’m trying not to fall out of my seat from him having a willing conversation and bruising my ass from landing on it. “You treat her like she’s yours.”
“I do?” he asks, looking at me as if he doesn’t recognize me. “That’s not possible.”
“Icer, do you take her on rides on the back of your bike?”
“Yes. She likes it,” he answers.
“Let me break this down for you in simpler terms,” I tell him, raising my fingers and ticking the things I say off.
“You take her out to eat. You buy her things because she told you she likes them. She comes to club events and gatherings with you. You take her out with you and Elodie whenever y’all go shopping or to the zoo, and she’s even included in y’all’s movie marathons.
You ask her opinion about things and seek her guidance when you don’t know what you want to say or how you should react when someone makes you mad. ”
“Holy shit. I have a girlfriend,” Icer says, his breath coming out choppy and full of panic. “What do I do? What do I do?” he asks, rocking back and forth while yanking at his braids and nearly ripping them off his scalp.
“You ride, brother,” I comment. “You hold on and see where things go. Don’t jump to conclusions and assume this will end in disaster.
You and Letti are not your mom and dad. Things may get bumpy, as a matter of fact I’m sure they will be, but you hold on tight because even as crazy as it is, Letti likes you just the way you are. ”
“But why? I’m not nice and I don’t like people,” Icer asks, confused. “I hardly tolerate you and I’ve known you my entire life.”
“Thanks for that reminder, asshole,” I tease.
“See! Even you know I’m a dick,” he points out. “I just want to be her friend. I can’t lose her, she grounds me.”
“Which is why I think you should give her a chance, Icer. Don’t put labels on things, wait and see how it plays out. You can do this, brother.”
“Can you tell her that I don’t want to do that?” Icer asks me.
“Do what? Put a label on what y’all are?” I probe.
“Yeah. That,” he says, jabbing his finger at me.
“No. It’s not my place. Icer, you can do this. I believe in you,” I encourage him.
He huffs at me before crossing his arms over his chest in a sulking manner unlike his usual pissed off one. “Nobody’s said that to me before. I don’t know what to make of it.”
“Seems like you have a lot of soul searching to do, brother,” I state. “Talk to Letti, let her know where you stand. She may be wanting more, but unless she knows where your head is at, she can’t help you through it.”
“I don’t like talking about feelings and shit,” he grumbles.
“No, you like grunting but that won’t work in this situation, Icer. You have to man up and let your balls drop,” I taunt him. “You’re gonna have to use your words.”
Icer scowls at me and grinds out through a clenched jaw, “My balls dropped before yours did, asshole.”
A smirk crosses my face when I ask him, “Are you joking with me, Icer? Letti’s better for you than you think she is.
I’m rooting for her and for you. Get out of here, you need to pack up and let her know you’re hitting the road in the morning.
This may be good for the both of you, it’ll give you time to screw your head on straight before you two have a heart-to-heart. ”
“Whatever. You’re not my boss,” he harrumphs as he stands and starts shuffling his way toward the exit.
“Actually, I am,” I say, mocking him while pointing at my president patch that sits over my right shoulder. “Remember?”
“Screw you, Mr. President,” he calls out over his shoulder, getting in the last word.
Slayer pops his head in through the door and smirks at me. “Seems like our little boy is growing up, huh?”
“He’s catching a case of the feelings and he’s not sure what to do about it,” I remark.
“Do any of us?” he asks, patting the jamb.
“Fuck no,” I snort. “It’s why I’m still a one man show.”
“I hear that, brother. Catch you in the morning,” he tells me, sending me a salute as he turns around and walks down the hallway.
“Later,” I call back, picking up the phone and dialing Rio’s number so I can give him our itinerary. Then, I have to pack my own bags and make sure things around here are settled since we’ll be gone for a couple of weeks. At least, that’s the plan.