Wrath #2
“Maybe ask for another day. Tell them you might have something, but need more time. Make up a lie that the issue with the nephew’s apartment threw you off.
Then, you talk to Jalisa and work to get her consent before broaching it with her dad and his club,” Agony enthusiastically said.
He was right, and we were both on the same wavelength.
“I was about to say the same thing. Thanks for listening and bouncing ideas around with me. I’ve got it.”
“You’re welcome, and I’m always here. Hey, let me know what goes down when you ask her and so on.
I’ve got to know. Once you have officially claimed her and it’s safe, I’ll bring Eliana and the other old ladies to meet her and welcome her to the Pagan family.
She needs to know that she also has the Cherokee crew in her new family. ”
“Thanks, Agony. I’d love that. I hate to rush off, but I have work to do, and I need to contact Psycho about postponing until tomorrow evening. Again, thank you, and tell Eliana I said hello.”
“I will. Good luck,” he said before he disconnected.
Now that I’d made my mind up, I was ready to start. I hoped Jalisa wasn’t scared off by what was about to come at her. Fingers crossed that the president of the Pagan Souls of Oconee was about to be off the market.
???
I left a message for Psycho. I’d tried to call him, but it went to voicemail.
I explained what happened at Dylan’s apartment and used the excuse that it had taken a large chunk of our day to resolve.
Then, I told him I was working on a possible solution but needed more time to outline it.
I asked if we could speak tomorrow night at the same time.
I hoped he’d say yes, and his daughter would agree to become mine.
I held off on talking with her until after dinner. It needed to be private, and she was still in and out of the kitchen. It was almost 5:30 p.m. when I received a text from Psycho. I read it with trepidation.
Psycho: Not happy about what they did to D’s place or what they wrote & did to J’s bed & laptop. Tell her to pick out a new one. She can use my card to pay for it. As for postponing the talk, that’s OK. We’re working on an idea, too. We’ll talk later. Keep us informed of anything new.
I was pleasantly surprised by how normal his reply was. I sent back a confirmation.
Me: TY. I hate to delay, but I think it’ll be worth it. Will keep you in the loop. Talk to you tomorrow.
With that out of the way, I was one step closer. I wandered to the common room, waiting for dinner to be served. I asked if there was anything I could help with, but both Jalisa and Betty had said no and shooed me out of the kitchen.
The clubhouse filled up fast with my brothers coming home from work.
They’d been told when dinner would be served.
Jalisa had sent out a text via her cousin to let them know.
I had no problem with her doing it. They were muttering about how good it smelled and were complaining about how hungry they were.
There was mention of how good the breakfast was.
My stomach growled a time or two at the memory.
When it was a quarter ‘til six, I returned to the kitchen. “I’m not here to get in the way. I came to set up the bowls and stuff for the line. I figured you’d do it the way you did breakfast. That worked great,” I explained to the women.
“Thank you, but we’ve done it. All we have to do is take out the bread baking in the oven in two minutes, and it’s done,” Betty said.
Jalisa smiled at me and didn’t throw anything at my head, so I was happy. She was stirring the two massive pots on the stove, which we used for big events. The bowls, silverware, a tub of butter, a bottle of Worcestershire sauce, salt, and black pepper were on the long counter.
The stove alarm beeped. Jalisa stopped stirring, grabbed oven mitts, and opened the door to the double ovens.
She brought pan after pan out containing loaves and rolls of bread.
She flipped them over on towels so they were free of the pans.
Then, she wrapped the towels around the bread to keep it warm. I groaned.
“Damn, that looks and smells so good. I love homemade bread,” I confessed.
Jalisa held a finger up to her lips as if shushing me, then whispered, “Come here.”
I went to her. She reached under one of the towels and brought out a roll. She cut it open and slathered butter on it. The steam rose in the air. She handed it to me. “Don’t tell. I think the president should sample it to be sure it’s good enough for his guys,” she said, winking.
“Thanks, love,” I said before taking a bite. It was even better than it smelled. I moaned. As I chewed it, so I could tell her that, she took a bowl off the table, ladled it full of soup, and put it down in front of me.
“Here, you have to taste this, too,” she said.
I swallowed and then answered her. “The bread is incredible—better watch showing favoritism. The guys might get jealous,” I teased. I was lifting a spoonful of soup to my mouth to blow on.
“Let them. I can handle it. Can you cope with them giving you flak for it?” she asked, smirking.
“I can cope with it and anything you want to bring or throw at me,” I said softly. Her pleased smile gave me hope. I ate a bite of soup. I swore it was the best-tasting vegetable soup I’d ever had in my life.
“Shit, this is amazing,” I told her before scooping up another spoonful. I burned my mouth but didn’t care.
“You’d better move out of the way, Wrath. I’m calling them in, and your dad is at the head of the line,” Betty warned. I snatched up my bowl and bread and went to a far corner. Maybe they wouldn’t see me.
It sounded like a herd of cattle coming after Betty called out to them. Rage was first through the door as Betty warned, but he had several right on his heels. They formed a line like they had this morning. As they got their bowls and spoons, I was spotted.
“Hey, what the hell? Why does Wrath get to go first? We were told to stay out,” Chains complained. Eyes were staring me down.
“What does your cut say?” Jalisa asked sweetly.
Chains appeared puzzled but answered, “Pagan Souls of Oconee and Chains.”
“Andddd,” she prompted. He looked at his chest, where she was staring. “Secretary,” he muttered.
“That’s right. And Wrath is the president.
He does get preferential treatment occasionally because of that.
However, if he pisses me off, he can wait in line or even at the back.
He was good, so he got first dibs. He did it for all of you,” Jalisa informed them.
She was serving up ladles of soup as they came to her.
Betty fixed their bread and handed it to them after they got their soup.
“What do you mean he did it for us?” Rage asked.
“He had to make sure it was worthy of you and that it wouldn’t poison any of you,” she said, smiling.
Dad snorted. Those who had their soup didn’t bother to wait until they got to a table in the common room. They tasted it and then started moaning, which made those waiting impatient. The praise was thick.
It wasn’t that Betty never cooked for us, nor was it that what she did cook wasn’t good. It was that she didn’t do it often, and we didn’t expect her to. It was a huge job to cook food for all of us. I’d have to make sure Jalisa knew this wasn’t her job. Staying with us didn’t make her our cook.
Eventually, we all made it to the tables.
I made sure Jalisa was seated next to me.
The food disappeared like locusts had consumed it—or maybe pigs were a better analogy.
Most had seconds, and I swear Dad got thirds.
They didn’t stop praising both women for the food they had prepared.
When dinner was over, the ladies were told to relax, and we men cleaned up the dishes and the mess.
We were sitting at the tables, talking and enjoying a break. Storm was the one to remind everyone. “It’s almost time to call the Fiends.”
I sat straighter. “Crap, I forgot. With everything that went on today, I asked if we could postpone and do it tomorrow. I’m forming a plan, but it’s not ready to be presented. Still got parts to work on.”
“Is it ready for us to talk over?” he asked.
“No, not yet, but hopefully by morning. We’ll do it for sure before we speak to Psycho and his club.”
They seemed okay with the change. As they began talking, I leaned over to whisper to Jalisa.
“Jalisa, I’d like to talk to you. Would you come with me? It needs to be in private.”
She gave me a questioning look but nodded.
We were rising to our feet when I heard what sounded like the rumble of multiple bikes.
Without missing a beat, my guys and I came to attention.
We went into action. Guns were removed from waistbands and a cache behind the bar.
We had more throughout the clubhouse, but those weren’t as handy.
“Go with Betty. She’ll show you where the safe room is,” I ordered Jalisa.
“But I can help. Give me a gun,” she insisted.
“I said go. If that’s who I think it is, they want you. Stay out of sight. Do as I say,” I snapped.
I saw she didn’t like it, but Betty grabbed her arm, and they left.
With them secured, we could focus on taking care of whoever was outside our gate.
We hurried out the door and then split up.
Ryder, Storm, and I were in the front. There was no one at the gate at the moment.
Sometimes, one of the prospects was, but it depended on what we had going on.
Today, they’d been inside with the rest of us.
Our gate wasn’t one that you could easily see in or out of.
It was sort of like a garage door with small windows toward the top.
Those had bulletproof glass in them. The gate itself was AR 500 steel, bulletproof steel.
We had a motor to open and close it because that fucker weighed what felt like a ton.
Before we bought this land, it was owned by a recycling company.
They’d spent the money to build a twelve-foot steel wall around their extensive property.
I guess recycling was a target for thieves.
Regardless, they eventually went out of business, and when this place came up for sale, we snatched it up.
The prebuilt wall and gate were a huge savings.
All we did was change out the glass to be bulletproof.
The steel was treated so it didn’t rust. It would stand for decades.
Periodically, we would respray it to keep it sealed.
As we got close, there was a loud metallic pounding. The sound of bikes had gone silent. What the hell? After the pounding faded away, I heard a voice yelling.
“Hello, is anyone there? Open the fucking gate. We’re sitting out here with our asses exposed. Wrath, are you there? This is Panther. Psycho is about to scale the goddamn wall if you don’t let us in. The crazy fucker will do it.”
I shook my head as I finished making my way to one of the windows.
Looking out, I saw a large group of bikers sitting there.
Panther was by the door. Right behind him, pacing, was Psycho.
This was a historic day. The day the Hell’s Fiends and the Pagan Souls were in one place and not fighting.
Or at least I hoped it didn’t end in a fight.
“I’ll go out and see what they want. You all stay here. If I come running, make sure I can get back through the door. If I signal you, seal it down,” I told my men.
We had a regular door for entering and exiting. I wasn’t ready to open my gate and allow a one-percenter club inside our compound. I needed to know what they were doing here. If I gave my guys the signal to lock it down with me outside, I’d be dead, but I’d protect my club no matter what.
“We’re not sending our president out there. It should be me. You stay here,” Ryder argued.
“No, I’ll go. I’m not an officer. If they kill my ass, I’ve lived a good life,” Rage added.
“I’m not hiding like a pussy,” I argued back.
We were doing it in low voices, but still arguing. There was another loud pound.
“Open the fuck up!” It was Psycho’s voice.
“We’ll go together. You, me, and Rage,” Ryder demanded.
I knew they would keep fighting me, and we didn’t have time. Giving in this time, I rolled my eyes and nodded.
“Storm, you know what to do,” I reminded him.
“Got it,” Storm said.
I unlocked the door in question. I walked out with Ryder on my left and Dad on my right. Storm staying behind made sense. If I went down, he would be in charge of the club. Panther, Psycho, and another guy came to meet us.