Chapter 1 #2
“Holy shit, holy shit!” Between Danger shaking him and hollering in his ear, the past shorted out while the present swam back into focus.
Fucking hell, daylight was beginning to fade, and Danger wouldn’t quit shaking the fuck out of him.
“What!” He roared, yanking his arm out of Danger’s grasp.
Kazzy jumped, wide-eyed and scooting away while Butcher scrubbed a hand over his face.
“Sorry,” he muttered, feeling his cheeks heat up. “Spaced off, I guess.”
“Well, space back in,” Danger demanded, not looking the least bit offended, in fact, he looked downright excited as he pointed towards the water. “Because if Ocean can catch another wave before the buzzer…oh shit…oh shit, he got it!”
Back to the shaking again, but Butcher let it go because all around him the rest of the club erupted into cheers, prompting him to join in on the celebration, despite having no clue what the fuck was going on.
“He shredded the fuck out of it!” Pope proclaimed.
“Yeah, he did!” Kazzy said.
Butcher was completely dialed in after that, because while he’d been lost in his head and could only remember flickers of what had taken place out on the water, Ocean had been busy winning a medal and a giant check.
Probably just a prop, though a little image popped up in the back of Butcher’s head, of a bank vault shelf piled high with giant checks that made him chuckle, because seriously, what the hell did they do with those things after the event?
He joined the rest of the crew when they surrounded Ocean on the sand, offering congratulations and wet hugs.
The show of support was as touching as the way Sunshine leaned in and whispered something in Ocean’s ear that made him throw his arms around her.
He’d heard a little of Ocean’s history with the club and the family he’d lost out on the other coast and couldn’t help but wonder if he hadn’t been riding today as a tribute to them.
Butcher had the whole ride back to the clubhouse and the walk to the beach that lay beyond to wonder if there wasn’t something he could have done to honor Stephen when they’d lost him instead of falling apart like the rest of their friend group after the man he’d loved was gone.
In truth, he’d never picked himself back up from that.
Never forged close ties again either, not with the way he’d hopped from place to place, staying three months in one spot and seven in another before moving on.
But he’d always given two weeks’ notice because jobs were hard enough to come by, let alone when you couldn’t count on having good references.
Carving meat was the skill he’d used the longest, but he’d picked up several along the way, enough to call himself a jack of all trades if anybody asked him.
Butcher wished they’d let him beg off after the surf competition, but apparently, bonfire nights were sacred, and his presence at this one was insisted upon, so here he was, crossing the sand, looking for a place to stand beside others who’d claimed a tiny portion of beach.
He accepted a beer when someone offered one and listened as Pope recounted highlights from Ocean’s spectacular day on the waves.
“All right you fucks, listen up!” Mark barked, bringing all conversations to a halt. “We’ve got a couple guests of honor on the sand that need to be acknowledged.”
Clapping and whistling followed, while Butcher sipped his beer.
“Ocean, you did this club proud with today’s victory.
Talk about a heart-pounding finish, kid.
What were you trying to do, make mine do backflips?
When you caught that last one at the buzzer, I knew you had it on lock, but seeing you tear it up that way reminded me of why I’ve always loved the sport. ”
“Man, where do I sign up to start hitting the amateur circuit?” Someone called out. “I want a shot at competing.”
“Good, I hope to hear more of that,” Mark said, “because we’ll be breaking ground on the new Surf ‘n’ Seafood shack come spring.
Cain is working with a couple club brothers to tweak their skills in shaping boards, and then they’ll be relocating down here and swapping to this chapter.
Kermit will be handling the graphic designs and air brushing, which will include t-shirts and board shorts in addition to anything else he decides to paint.
He’ll be looking for apprentices too; you know the score, so make sure you think hard about the person you suggest before you suggest them, then get him some names.
Ocean will be offering surfing lessons, so for those serious about signing up as amateurs and earning your stripes, get with him. ”
Lots of murmurs and nods followed that, but Butcher could feel the excitement too. Surfing was definitely a big deal to this crew.
“Joker will be running the shop, so lift your glasses skyward, and let’s toast our latest venture!”
“Whooo!”
One howl was followed by another as glasses and bottles were raised before their contents were consumed.
Butcher was more than happy for an excuse to swig the last half of what was in his bottle and snagged another from the cooler as it went past. He’d barely popped the top off when his name was called.
“Step forward!”
Oh shit. He hurried the fuck up, beer foaming on his hand in the process.
“We’ve got a new prospect!” Mark declared the moment Butcher reached him. “I hope you know what you’ve gotten yourself into.”
They’d talked about it, and he’d known it involved a vote, but Butcher was still blindsided as the cheer went up around him as Kat presented him with a kutte with the Joker’s emblem and a rocker reading “Prospect.” Excitement coursed through him as he pulled it on, more than he expected to feel over a piece of leather.
When the circle drew in tighter and arms wrapped around him, for the first time since Stephen’s death, Garrett felt like he belonged.