Chapter 32 Lucy
LUCY
“What’s going on in there?” Catfish asks, his fingers drumming on the wooden bar top as he looks over his shoulder to the closed door of Grudge’s office.
He arrived shortly after I’d taken the coffee in there. I pour him a mug from the second pot and slide it to him. “What did Grudge already tell you?”
Catfish grins. “I see what you did there.”
“And what was that?”
He takes the mug from me. “A very lawyerly sidestep instead of actually answering the question. I asked what’s going on, and you asked me what I already knew so you don’t say more than you should.”
“Far be it from me to get in trouble with Grudge.”
Catfish laughs. “Doll, I think you’ve already proven you could do just about anything, and he’d forgive you for it.”
I know that Catfish is only having some fun, and that, one day, I’m going to have to forgive myself for my part in what happened in our past, but today doesn’t feel like the one. I still feel like I have more to do to prove to the man how sorry I am. Perhaps his vindication will prove it.
Jackal and Shade walk into the clubhouse, and from where I’m standing behind the bar, I catch the whisper-like brush of Shade’s hand against Jackal’s lower back as he helps him with his jacket. Shade seems surprised to see me, and they separate quickly.
As I lawyer, I rely on evidence from anywhere I can get it. Video. Eyewitness testimony. Written statements. And body language.
If I saw what I think I just saw, I need to keep it to myself.
I was shocked to see a Black biker in the room with Grudge.
From everything I’ve seen or read about motorcycle clubs, they are inherently racist organizations.
I know Grudge isn’t racist or homophobic, but he’s a brand-new president, and changing the minds of old-timers to accept two men together will be tough.
I don’t know if Grudge knows, but I’m going to follow the only rule that matters, the one of common decency, that you don’t out someone else.
Ever.
“Anyone know what’s going on?” Jackal asks.
Catfish shakes his head. “Just that we have to wait out here until they’re done.”
“If you made coffee, Lucy,” Wraith says, stomping his boots on the mat, “I’ll love you forever.”
Smoke follows him in, brushing snow off the top of his head.
“I did.” I grab a few mugs in each hand. “Let me pour you all a cup.” It doesn’t feel weird, serving these men. I thought it might. If they harbor any ill will against me for what I did to Grudge back then, they don’t show it.
Maybe they don’t care. Maybe they’re following Grudge’s lead. But I find myself hoping that there’s a path to earning their trust, and maybe even respect.
Atom blows into his hands as he walks in before hanging his Stetson on a hook by the door. “Fucking cold out there, today.”
“The guy on the radio on the way in said it’s going to stay below freezing for the rest of the month,” Jackal says. “Might get six inches of snow, this afternoon, too.”
Catfish looks around the clubhouse. “Can’t decide if it would be better to get snowed in here or at home.”
Atom hops up on the barstool next to him. “That’s because you don’t have an old lady. I’d take being snowed in with Ember over having to deal with you snoring, farting, degenerates.”
Catfish thumps him in the arm hard enough that he rocks on his stool. “I take offense to that. I’m more than willing to let you be big spoon.”
“Don’t,” Smoke says. “Sturgis, four years ago, that great elephant lumbered into my fucking tent, drunk out of his mind, and tried to cozy up behind me like I was some kind of human blankie.”
Atom laughs. “In my defense, I was very drunk.”
“Yeah, well, hope you hug Ember more gently than you hugged me,” Smoke says. “You gripped onto me like I was an out-of-control hay bale.”
Their banter makes me chuckle.
Taco rounds out the rest of the group, slamming the door shut as he steps inside. “Someone needs to go talk to Babyface after this. He’s shitting a brick at the gatehouse because he tried to photo ID King.”
Karlie and some of the club girls arrive. Given it’s mid-morning, they are glammed up to the nines. Thick red lipstick, low-cut T-shirts. and short skirts. They hang their thick puffy coats on the hooks by the door.
I’m makeup free, have stitches in my forehead, and am relatively certain that my hair is a mess. But I’m confident as I face them, secure in my fledgling relationship with Zach.
“Wraith, you wanted us to make breakfast for some visitors,” Karlie says.
Catfish points to the closed doors of church. “National president and some of his men.”
Karlie grins. “Any of them single?”
“Knowing the New Jersey crew, unlikely,” Jackal says. “But you’re still making breakfast.”
Karlie runs her hand over Jackal’s shoulder. “Spoilsport.”
“Where’s Isla?” Catfish asks.
“Oh,” Karlie says. “You don’t know the gossip, do you?”
Catfish mimics her stance: The excited clap. The pout. “No. Because I don’t give a shit about it.”
Karlie swats his arm. “Asshole. She’s thinking of stopping hanging out here.”
I’m desperate to know more, but I don’t say anything. I just pour another cup of coffee for Taco.
“Aren’t you going to ask me why?” Karlie asks.
Catfish shakes his head. “No. Because, again, that would imply I gave a shit.”
“Urgh,” Karlie groans. “Her nana died, and she was fed up with waiting for one of you. So, she got a job as a receptionist at a veterinary clinic and is going to fix up her nana’s house, since it was left to her.”
Jackal raises an eyebrow. “The girl struggled to lift a finger to help around here. How does she think she’s gonna renovate her house?”
Karlie shrugs. “I don’t know. But she said she was gonna turn her life around and that it starts with that house.
She’s not made a definite decision, yet, but I think you can see it when someone has fallen out with the life.
” With that, she leaves for the kitchen with some of the other girls, but not before I see them pointing and whispering about me.
I feel like showing them the red stripes from Grudge’s belt across my ass that burn deliciously as I walk. They can point all they want, because nothing they can do will scare me off.
The doors to church open, and Grudge waves the men in before curling his finger to me.
We meet in the middle of the bar, where he bends down, grabs both my ass cheeks, and squeezes over the belt marks while he kisses me. My clit immediately aches as I suck in a breath at the burn.
“Fuck,” he mutters against my lips, swallowing my gasp. “Can’t fucking think straight in there because I keep thinking about last night.”
“It’s very hot watching you be all business-like.”
He squeezes my cheeks, watching me intently as I hiss. “Yeah?”
I nod as he releases me. “Guess you can’t sneak away for a quickie in a storage cupboard or something, can you?” But I smile while I say it, knowing full well he can’t.
He glances over his shoulder. “Wish I could. But I need you to come in with me.”
“You do?”
He takes my hand and leads me to church. “Yeah.” But just before we reach the door, he puts his lips close to my ear. “But rain check on the storage cupboard.”
Grudge pulls the chair from behind his desk and puts it next to his at the table. It takes a moment for introductions to be made, and while most people roll with Wren’s appearance and pronouns, I notice Catfish glancing at them through the corner of his eye.
Wren’s pretty. And their thick dark hair is something I’ve wanted my entire life, instead of the curls I was born with.
Plus, the combination of black and green is striking.
Grudge fills us in on their conversation so far, so everyone is up to speed, including how money has been stolen from the club. There’s understandable anger and confusion, but an overwhelming sense of gratitude that the New Jersey Outlaws want to help.
Grudge turns to me. “I want you to work with Wren. Give them the phone you can’t unlock. Your father’s laptop, if you can get it. Whatever you can find from the law firm.”
I don’t know what I thought would happen when I was nineteen and idealistic. Me, pursuing a career in law. Grudge, pursuing a career in…this. But I never imagined him trusting me with club business or our worlds overlapping like this.
“Of course. My father’s laptop is with him at the hospital, so I’ll have to think about how to do that. Where can we set up?” I ask.
“Not here at the clubhouse,” King says. “It’s too obvious. We used Calista’s jet to get here. No one knows who was on it beyond the pilot. But it’s a trail because the flight is on record.”
“I have an idea,” Grudge says. “In return for Wren’s help, we need to help keep them secure.”
“Who from?” Wraith asks, immediately turning to Wren.
“Yeah,” Atom says. “Would be good to know who we’re looking out for.”
Their cheeks turn pink, and they look to King.
“Everyone,” King answers on their behalf. And the tone of his voice gives no room for questions or misunderstandings. “And I’m thinking it shouldn’t be remote. Makes a large assault too easy.”
“Understood,” Wraith says.
“What about the apartment above the bakery with you?” Grudge asks me. I barely have time to process the request before Smoke replies.
“Prez,” Smoke says. “Given we don’t know what we’re dealing with, and how Lucy might already be in trouble with the Rebels, I don’t like this all happening above my old lady’s bakery. Her place has already been set on fire.”
“Here’s my thinking,” Grudge says. “Atom, you and Em could move in above the bar for a little while, putting you within thirty seconds of the bakery. Lucy and I could move into the bakery with Wren. Smoke, we could set up a rotation, keeping an eye on the cameras you installed around the bakery.”
King shakes his head. “I want someone on Wren all the time. If there’s a problem, your first thought will be Lucy.” The president looks straight at me. “No offense.”
“None taken,” I say.