Chapter 13
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“Buckle up, motherfu-” Pops eyes the kids standing around beside him, “fuuu-dgers, this is going to be epic!” The kids all cheer like he’s just announced that he’s buying them all unlimited milkshakes or some shit.
“Who is that man?” My momma asks, brows furrowed as Pops, Elio and Chewy stop to have a serious looking conversation next to some contraption they’ve made.
“That would be our grandfather,” Gus mumbles, running a hand down his face and scooping Jr up from the ground where he was about to eat another fistful of dirt.
“Isn’t he too old to be doing that?” Jules smirks when Gus death glares him.
“Just picked Gallows up on the cameras, he’s at the end of the drive.” My little brother murmurs, eyes on what's happening in the middle of the yard.
“Tadaa! She’s finished, and what a beauty she is,” Pops says proudly as Chewy holds it up so we can all admire it.
“Chewy, baby, put the fucking explosive down,” Rhodie growls, pinching the bridge of his nose. Gus backhands him in the gut and holds out his Tums which Rhodie takes. Immediately.
Chewy rolls her eyes and hands the giant jar with shit hanging out of it to Elio.
“Oh, yeah, that’s so much better. Give it to the kid to hold,” Tav grumbles.
“Is that,” my dad leans forward, eyes narrowed, “Is that a bomb in a pickle jar?”
“Never trust a man who builds a bomb in boring containers.” Pops winks before placing it down on the ground.
He plods up the porch steps to Mama Debs and asks for his safety gear.
“Well, that’s new,” Savage mumbles as the Tombs brothers grin ear to ear.
“Safety first,” Pops says, donning goggles, ear plugs, ear muffs over the top, a helmet and a poncho.
“What’s the poncho for?” Omen Landry asks, confused.
Pops looks at him like he’s an idiot. “It’s for the vibes, Omen. Shit.”
“Ah, kids, maybe step back from that.” Lovely calls out from her place on the porch, the women nestled around her.
“They’ll be fine,” Pops answers, “Just don't touch the red wire, kids!” Pops calls out over his shoulder.
At the kids looking at the bomb. The bomb that is a mass of red fucking wires in a glass fucking jar.
Pops claps his gloved hands once, then stomps off the porch, headed for his bomb.
Taking it from Elio he looks around, says something over his shoulder to the huge gang of kids milling about and then walks toward the treeline.
Squeals sound out and the kids scatter, beelining it to where we all stand on the porch, eyes on whatever carnage Pops is about to unleash.
“Do we need to be in the shelter?” Dad asks in his measured, quiet voice. I had forgotten how quiet he is, given how loud the rest of us are. It’s clear we take after Momma who is whooping and hollering at the kids to get a wriggle on.
Rhodie hands Laney-May off to Mad Dog and Willa and then storms down off the porch, striding toward his woman who is yelling instructions to Pops and doesn't look to be getting out of the way anytime soon.
“At least one hundred yards, Pops! So we’re outta the ball bearing blast zone!”
“Ball bearings! What the actual fuck?” someone yells and Rhodie’s stride turns into a jog.
If I’m honest I’m surprised he even let her down there. The bigger her belly gets the more protective Rhodie has become. I get it. If Joy was round with my child I wouldn't let her anywhere near my crazy ass family and their explosives.
The picture of Joy round with my child hits me like a bolt of lightning and settles into my gut with a warm feeling. Turning my head, my gaze meets hers as she stands with the women. She gives me a sweet smile and it settles something in me.
“Hereeee we goooooo!” Pops yells, hot footing it back to the house at a much faster clip than I would ever think a man his age could go.
“Help me count it down kids!”
The rag tag bunch of Big Littles and their friends from the Keep all bounce in place as they count down from five and then Pops hits the detonator in his hand.
Pause. Nothing can be heard apart from our breathing and I move to turn to Pops before flinching at the sheer noise of the explosion.
I spin back in time to see wild life scattering, fucking tree limbs and obliterated bits of bark flying through the air, some of it in flames.
“Huh. That was a little underpowered,” Pops says with a frown as the kids cheer, ignoring the shock on all the adults' faces.
“Fucking get off the porch, get the kids into the bunker! What the fuck are you all doing standing there?” A bike comes skidding to a stop, and my cousin Gallows storms up the porch steps, gun drawn. His sister and VP Mercy at his back. “Move, move, move, you’re under attack!”
We all stare at him, clearly still in shock over that fucking explosion.
“Another ginger?” Rider says, face screwed up.
Gallows turns scarily slow, glaring at Rider who holds his hands up in the air.
“Cousin, this is the DRMC.” I wave at my club family.
“Did. You. Not. Hear. Me?” he growls, and I see why Rhodie wanted him here. Probably to keep his woman in line.
“That explosion was Pops,” Momma says.
“What the fuck is a Pops?” Gallows barks, brows pulled low.
“That would be me, young gun. And you better watch your mouth, else I’ll have your ass.”
Gallows brows shoot up to his hairline as Mercy snorts behind him. “I need a drink and one of you better call Church and tell me why the fuck I rode 12 hours into a fucking dirty bomb.”
“Yeah cousin, I can do that.” I slap him on the shoulder before letting him go.
He hugs my parents and siblings, then gives a chin lift to the DRMC.
There will be time enough for him to get to know everyone, but for now we gotta brief him on what we’re dealing with, and what he’ll be dealing with while we’re away. And I don’t envy the poor fucker.
Joy
“Can I see your stump?” Chewy asks, staring at Gallows without an ounce of shame.
His sister, Mercy, snorts and then hides it with a cough.
She’s not nearly as scary as her brother.
She’s not ginger either which surprises me, because that seems to be a recurring theme in Reid’s family.
I look between him and his cousin, noting how similar they look.
Huge men, almost strawberry blonde shade of red hair, bearded, and loud.
That’s where the similarities end. Gallows is gruffer.
Harder. As if the horrors he's seen changed him fundamentally. He’s cold where Reid is warm.
“What makes you think I have a stump?” Gallows asks, raising a brow.
Chewy’s gaze flicks to him for a split second before her gaze settles over his shoulder. “You have the gait of someone with a below knee amputation.”
“And you think you would just ask the cripple if you could see his stump?”
“Yes. I just did.”
He studies Chewy for a long moment. Assessing her. “I was told in Church that you’re one of the reasons I’m here. Keep an eye on you. Make sure you behave.”
“In what way?” Chewy asks, head tipped to the side.
“Probably making sure you’re staying put," Lovely says with a smile.
“Or at the very least, not kidnapping anyone,” Ana adds.
“It was one time,” Chewy says in a bored voice, rolling her eyes.
“I’m pretty sure it was two,” Blanche adds.
“It doesn't count if I restrain the person in their own home.” Chewy scoffs, ignoring how wide eyed Gallows has become.
“Wait,” Mercy says, raising a hand in the air to stop the Ol Ladies from squabbling as the Keep women stare wide eyed. “We were only told you’re pregnant and you sometimes like to wander off.”
“Wander off to kidnap and maim people,” Vi coughs.
Gallows and Mercy stare at Chewy and I get it. She’s unassuming. Short, curvy, cute face, tiny hands that don’t look like they could do any damage. Even in my mind I don’t believe she’s as dangerous as some of the Ol Ladies have said she is.
“The first time I saw Chewy ‘work’ she melted a guys eyelid off with acid drip torture,” Ana says, with a shrug.
“I watched her cut body parts off one guy and dispose of it in another guy's butthole,” someone else adds.
“I was with her when she kidnapped a guy and then shoved a Batman bobble head up his ass. She stole his van too, still rides around in it,” Blanche says, patting her sleeping daughter on the butt.
“I watched her give a guy a Jacobs Ladder,” Kaia says.
Mercy and Gallows share a look before Gallows gets to his feet and beelines for Rhodie and the rest of the DRMC men. I don’t know why but it makes me burst into giggles and it’s not long before the rest of the women are joining me, including Mercy.
“Is it bad that I almost hope someone attacks us so I can see you in action?” she asks Chewy.
“Using the law of averages, these guys will be dumb and they’ll come after us. When they do we’ll be prepared. We are sheltering with Preppers. They have everything I need to run a successful interrogation.”
“While pregnant,” Lovely says.
“Of course. I’m a modern woman,” Chewy says, giving her the side eye.
“Babe, I’m going to take Kit up,” Reid whispers into my ear and when I turn to look at him over my shoulder my heart melts.
He has my little girl wrapped up in his big arms, safe and sound as she drools on his shoulder. I revel in my melted heart for one beat longer before my anxieties start to rise. I should have been looking after her. I should have been checking on her, she’s my responsibility.
“She was playing with the Big Littles in the other room, Annie-Bella came to tell me she fell asleep. Neither of us knew, babe, it’s just something that happens.”
I stare up at him. “How did you know?”
“How did I know you were beating yourself up?” He smiles softly. “Joy, I’ve spent the better part of two months learning your every expression. Learning your heart.”
Said heart jumps into my throat and steals my words from me. So, instead of replying I stand and take Reid’s free hand and let him lead me to the room his mom assigned. I’ve not seen it yet as Reid wanted to give me the tour, mentioning a surprise.