Chapter 1
RED
The need to ride out with Maestro, Cash, Kyle and Buck rode me until I couldn’t ignore it anymore. I’d lost my love of riding when Ruthie and Chains had passed. The only time I got on my sled now was if we were doing a charity or club run.
This time, though, this was different. Ruthie had insisted. ‘Time to ride, lover.’ She whispered in a breeze.
It wasn’t the first time I’d thought that I’d heard her voice, but it was the first time she’d been so insistent. I’d got on my sled and done as she’d told me.
I’m sure there would be some who thought I was nuts if they knew that I spoke to my deceased wife on a regular basis. Not that I cared much about what anyone thought. If it gave me comfort, who were they to say anything?
We rode into the trailer park on the other side of town. It was run down, and while a few trailers looked like they had tried to keep things tidy, the rest looked broken down and on the edge of falling apart; the one we were looking for was one of the worst in the park.
Stopping our sleds, I waited as Maestro and Cash got off their sleds and took a look around.
I’m sure that Maestro and I would be on the same page given what this boy had done for Rosie.
There was no way we’d be leaving the kid here.
We’d make other plans. He was sixteen, so he was old enough to make up his own mind.
Dismounting from my sled, I leaned against it and waited as Maestro knocked on the trailer door.
You could have knocked me over with a feather when I got a look at the boy in the doorway.
It was like looking at my boys when they were that age.
From the eyes to the olive skin, and the same black hair that all the men in my family had.
I knew he wasn’t mine, and I was pretty sure he wasn’t Maestro’s, which only left Chains.
I didn’t care whose he was; he was one of mine, and he’d be coming home with us today, no matter what.
Pushing away from my sled, I walk up to where Maestro and the boy were talking and introduced myself. Holding out my hand to the shaken, slightly agitated boy, “Ford. My name's Red.”
Ford shakes my hand and says to Maestro, “There’s nothing I’d like more than to get out of here, but I can’t. It’s not just me.”
He’s no sooner finished speaking than a baby started crying from within the trailer. ‘Well fuck me, looks like I’m going to be a great-grandfather.’
With Maestro, I walk into the trailer. Even though everything is old and worn, it’s clean and tidy. Our boy has obviously got his shit together, and there’s no way I’m leaving him in this trailer park; they’d both be coming home with us.
Turning to Maestro, I quietly order, “No matter what, he’s coming home with us.”
Maestro nods his head in agreement as Ford walks back towards us holding a gorgeous baby girl in his arms. Like all the men in my family, I’m a sucker for a baby, never mind that it’s a little girl. We haven’t had nearly enough of them in our family.
I’d been so busy studying little Poppy that I hadn’t been paying attention to Maestro and Ford until Ford handed Maestro a bottle and he started to feed her.
Cheeky fucker. As her grandfather, surely I should have got first dibs. Maestro smirks at my glare. “You can have her next.”
He’s not getting away with that. He’s the Pres now, and he has other responsibilities.
I waste no time reminding him of them. “I should have her now and you can sort Ford out; you need to get a prospect here with a cage so we can get them home. You need to phone your Old Lady and let her know we’re bringing two kids home with us. ”
He knows I’m right. “Fine,” he grumbles, transferring Poppy to me. Ford is watching us in disbelief. I’m sure this is a shock to him. He’s gone from being alone to having a family that has no qualms about taking over.
I’d never been more proud of Maestro than I was watching as he reassures Ford that both he and Poppy are welcome at the club.
And my heart that’s just started to heal from all the loss we’ve endured breaks again when I realise that Chains won’t ever get to meet this fucking fantastic boy that he fathered.
And it’s brought home when Ford asks Maestro, “Is my dad going to have an issue with us coming with you?”
The disappointment that crosses his face when he learns that Chains is dead brings a lump to my throat. He’s an Ivor through and through though, because he rallies when he finds out he not only has us but he has Lizzie and her family.
Maestro again gives him a choice. “So, son, are you coming with us or are you staying?”
Ford studies Maestro and me seriously before saying, “Check with your Old Lady about Poppy; if she says it’s okay, then we’ll come.”
‘Oh, hell no I’m not having any of that.’
I tell him so in no uncertain terms. “Boy, even if Stace didn’t want you in their house—which I know won’t be the case—my grandchildren will always have a home with me.”
He only solidifies he’s a good brother when he asks, “What about Poppy?”
Deciding he needs to learn what being an Ivor and a Queens Wraith means, I ask, “Is she your sister?”
Ford nods and answers, “Yes, sir.”
“Then she’s my granddaughter,” I tell him before continuing. “Blood doesn’t make a family, son, but love and loyalty do. If you ask anyone, they’ll tell you I had three children: two boys and a girl, when in fact I had five.
“Four boys and a girl because I considered Tinman and Cash both my sons. They’re waiting outside to meet you.
Tinman was closer to your dad than Maestro was.
Cash is closer to Maestro than Chains. It doesn’t matter, though, because when push comes to shove, they’ll be there for each other, and not because they share blood—because they don’t.
No, they’ll be there for each other because they’re a brotherhood, and if you come with us, you and Poppy will be part of that.
“And Ford,” I tell him in no uncertain terms, “there’s nothing better than knowing the people at your back will do anything for you, as long as it’s earned. You earned it yesterday with what you did standing up for the girls.”
Holding Poppy to me with one arm, I clasp Ford’s shoulder with the other and give it a little shake.
“Go pack bags for you and Poppy. Maestro is going to call Stacey, and while you’re all doing that, Poppy and I are going to go across the way to the swing I saw there, and we’re going to spend some time getting to know each other. ”
Walking out the door with my newest grandbaby in my arms, I leave Maestro with Ford, knowing he’d make sure that he’d be coming home with us.
I fully intended to take Poppy and to sit in the shade with her, then the fuckers I treated like sons stole her from me. ‘Cheeky fuckers.’
I had clocked the woman on the porch opposite the trailer Ford and Poppy lived in, long before either Maestro or Cash had. She came out onto the porch as soon as I’d brought Poppy out, shading her eyes to look over at us.
This was not a nosy woman; this was a concerned one. The tense way she was standing and her unwavering attention spoke for themselves. You didn’t run a one-percenter club for as long as I had without learning to read body language.
What’s taken me by surprise was the stirring of interest I felt at the first glimpse of her.
The first sign of interest I’d had in another woman since Ruthie had passed, three, nearly four years ago.
The thought had no sooner crossed through my mind when a gentle breeze blew and a soft voice whispered in my ear, ‘Told you. She’s the one…. she needs you.’
Startled, I looked at the brothers I’d ridden with to see if they’d heard anything—her voice had been so clear, but Tinman and Cash were busy playing with Poppy. Not sure why I thought they’d have heard Ruthie when she only ever spoke to me.
When Cash brings her to Maestro’s attention, and Ford goes over to speak to her, I know my time’s up. My life is about to change again, but this time I’m not worried, not with Ruthie’s voice ringing in my ears.
I watch as Ford walks her over to us, explaining who we are.
She’s very different from my Ruthie, who had been a petite blonde.
This woman is of medium height, slim, with firm arms. She’s probably a few years younger than my sixty-six, dressed casually in jeans, boots, and a purple t-shirt, with a long, thick braid of silver-grey hair hanging over her shoulder and stormy grey eyes.
Eyes that didn’t show any trepidation at approaching a bunch of bikers. They do show determination, though.
This is not a weak woman. And her voice.
‘Jesus Christ.’ Her voice hits me right in the cock.
Deep and husky, sounding similar to the Janis Joplin records that Ruthie loved so much.
She shakes Maestro’s hand, introducing herself.
“I’m Emily. Ford tells me he and my Poppy girl are moving in with you.
Other than you’re obviously related, tell me why I should trust my grandkids to a motorcycle club. ”
Nope, not a weak woman—just the kind that I find interesting. And Emily was interesting in spades and becomes even more so when I brush Maestro aside and introduce myself. “My name’s Red, darlin’, but you can call me Deck.”
Not that she’s easily swayed by my charm. And if that doesn’t make me want to know everything about her. All the reasons she’s so wary. Wary but not scared.
“And why would I do that?” she queries, brow raised. “Only Old Ladies get to use your government names.”
Oh, yes, very interesting. I know that Maestro or Cash will already have Hard-Drive looking into her. As far as I was concerned, she was coming home with us no matter what. But I’d find out what I could first.
Taking Poppy from Cash, I hand her to Emily and thread her free arm through mine.
I turned us back towards her trailer, saying, “It seems you’re not a stranger to MCs, darlin’.
Why don’t we go and sit on your porch and have a cool drink while this lot finishes packing up my grandkids?
And before you ask, we didn’t know about them before today, or they’d already be living with us.
You can tell me how you came to be here and look after them. ”
Emily sends a narrow side-eye glance at me. She’s not fooled at all about what I’m about. She knows I want information, but that doesn’t mean I can’t get it while we sit in the cool shade having a drink and watching the youngsters pack up the trailer.