Abraham
Polly was being aggravatingly mysterious about the Christmas “surprise” she had for me, even though she was the least sneaky person in the world and I was aware it was a quilt she was making for me.
After all, I could hardly avoid seeing some of these little scraps she squealed and stuffed under the covers as soon as she saw me.
It was like a shy little rabbit trying to hide from a fuckin fox.
Although spanking her sweet little ass until it was nice and red had pleased the hell out of me, I was still feeling irritated about her looking up my mother.
If I knew Polly, she hadn’t forgotten about it. And I was the kind of bastard who couldn’t let anything go.
What the fuck had made Polly even wonder about my mother? Let alone start looking for her?
If my mother had wanted to be found, she would have made that clear.
It was ancient history now. No longer concerned me.
Wasn’t it just like Polly, coming in and trying to meddle in things that didn’t concern her?
Why couldn’t she just keep it to dick-and-pussy stuff? That’s what I wanted in the first place. No one told her to go around baking cookies, hauling a tree in from the woods for Christmas, playing carols all damn day.
And ever since Polly had invited her aunt over, Fizz had been at me to have a damn Christmas Party as another attempt to see her.
In my irritation, I ignored that Polly had said she would never try to contact Ma or do any more looking for her unless I agreed.
I also ignored that her cooking made me feel better than I had in years. I’d even tested my blood sugar and it was in the normal range.
And hell, even matcha lattes weren’t that ass.
But I had made it very clear to Polly that this would never be a relationship. So why was she engaging in relationship activities?
All the same, I couldn’t quite bring myself to send her away, like I should have.
She’d been here almost three months now. Usually time I wanted to clear out the club bunny room and start again with fresh pussy.
And I’d called her my old lady in front of her ex. That hadn’t been intentional at all.
But I wasn’t in the mood for someone new. I’d deal with it after New Year’s.
Would I have just put off sending Polly away forever. . .
And then. . . we had an unexpected visitor.
My brother Grease arrived at the Clubhouse right after dinner, just as Polly was decorating an apple pie to go in the oven, cutting out little motorcycle shapes and wheels to put on the top of it.
Had watched as she spelled out Legends MC, and crafted the tiny wheels, but when she huffed in frustration when one tiny motorcycle broke apart, I said,
“Don’t fuss. It’s fixable.”
And when my brother came in, I was sitting with her at the table, carefully laying the last motorcycle on the pie.
“Yo, Grease,” Vladdy said, and I looked up.
My brother was staring down at me, his arms crossed. We had always looked similar, both always bigger and stronger than everyone else in the room, only his hairline was now receding and the braid behind his back was thin and lank.
“Grease,” I nodded, and was conscious of a slight embarrassment as I stood up to shake his hand and it was covered in flour.
The Prez didn’t cook.
He was wearing his old cut, and I wondered if that meant he’d want to be active with the club again. For a long time, he had been doing his own shit, and last I’d heard he’d been doing time.
“Bones.”
“Polly, this is my brother Grease.”
And she hopped up, covered in sugar, and looking nothing like a MC ol lady, sweet as honey and pushing her glasses up her nose with a messy hand.
Grease eyed her up and down.
“What is this shit?”
“It’s a pie,” Polly said after a moment when I didn’t say anything.
He snorted. “Bones. Want to talk to you. Club members only.”
“Oh—yes, well, I’ll—just do the pie later. Does—that sound good, Abraham?”
Her eyes looked almost beseechingly at me, but I wasn’t in the mood.
“None of your shit now. Go in the other room. Club business.”
There was a little flash of pain in her eyes as she left, but I turned away. I ran this club.
“What the hell have you been up to?” Grease asked, crushing the beer can in his hands and throwing it on the ground.
He picked up one of the little motorcycles on the top of Polly’s pie with dirty fingers, rolled it into a little ball, then flicked it back on top.
“Same old,” I said as we settled around the table.
Uncle shot me a disgruntled look, while Vladdy’s face looked like stone. What the hell was up with them?
Grease grabbed a cigarette, but Vladdy rapped his knuckles on the table.
“No smoking indoors.”
Grease looked like he wanted to throttle him, but it was Vladdy, so even he had to pause.
“I can’t fuckin smoke inside now? What the hell has happened to this club?”
I shrugged. “Nothing’s changed. Haven’t seen anyone try to piss me off recently and we’re still making plenty of money. All good on my end.”
Mac slowly brought out a deck of well-worn cards from their drawer, his eyes darting between my brother and I.
“What the fuck are you doing here with this ol lady?” Grease asked.
I stilled.
“She’s not my old lady.”
Grease grunted. “Sure seems like she thinks she’s your old lady. You let her ride your bike?”
I could feel everyone looking at me.
“Why the fuck do you care who I let on my bike?”
“Because Dad left you this MC. He chose you to run it. And your woman is a reflection of you, Bones. You know this.”
Grease set his chair legs down with a thump.
“There’s some out there who think you’ve gone soft, brother. Who think you’re vulnerable. You won’t take on new recruits. You don’t use any technology. You’re old and set in your ways. People think your territory is ripe for the picking.”
No one said a damn thing. Because the MC Prez was the one who had to defend the honor of the club.
Did anyone agree with him? Mac, Unc, Fizz, Vladdy? Did they think I was weak, too?
“I beat the shit out of the last MC that came around thinking they could encroach on my territory. They can’t.”
“I heard you had a woman sleeping in your room. Not in the whores’ quarters. In your goddamn room, Bones.”
There was irritation crackling up and down my spine. Had I been way too lenient with Polly? I had let her do shit no woman would ever have dared before. No whore had ever dared to even move a fucking chair in the Clubhouse before.
Now there was a latte machine on the counter, sewing on the couch, a painting of a cat on the wall. Evidence of a woman everywhere.
“I want easy pussy. Who doesn’t?”
“Are you sure you aren’t the pussy here, little brother? Sounds to me like you might be a little bitch in love.”
Prickly cold heat was breaking out all over me.
Love Polly? Of course I didn’t love her.
Being the Prez of Legends MC had always meant not showing a single moment of weakness.
“Polly means nothing to me. I’m planning to send her away soon anyways. Bitch is annoying as hell. I only keep her around for that fat, juicy pussy. She’s just a series of wet holes for me to stick it in.”