32. Butch
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
BUTCH
T hough the Aspen trafficking case is the highest priority assignment for our crew, the club still has other investigations to handle. The workload gets adjusted depending on the priority of the cases. There’s always an investigation underway or client looking for more security. The assignments can pile up, making work and social life balance difficult. But it keeps our pockets heavily lined, our bellies full, and our free time all that much sweeter.
Today is a busy day. We’re five days away from going undercover, meaning training has ramped up for all the crew. I spent the early morning hours with Candy and the team, going over scenarios we may encounter during the Aspen flesh trade operation, before leaving with Chase, Punk, and Ziggy to do a security install for some rich Denver client.
The customer—a real-estate investor—lives in a swanky new home near North Boulder. Flashy homes like his garner a lot of unwanted attention from shady people looking to make a quick buck. If you don’t have the top-of-the-line security system to go with your million-plus home, you’re fucking yourself over.
Mister Denver Investor learned the hard way what a poor security system does for you after his home was burglarized while he was away on a business trip. The guy was lucky he wasn’t home when the house was ransacked. Home invasions can go wrong when the homeowner is present, sometimes leading to unsavory interactions or death.
The fall weather is cool, but the sky is clear. Our days for decent riding weather were coming to a close.
Taking advantage of the weather, Ziggy and I decide to ride our hogs out to the site, while Chase and Punk drive in the Mercy Ravens Security van. I’m sure Chase and Punk wanted to ride, too—all bikers want to ride while they can. But someone needs to haul the equipment for the job.
With how tightly I’ve been wound since Candy came on the case, I think the guys knew I needed to ride more than them. They offered, and I didn’t turn down the chance. And since Ziggy is my best friend, he gets to ride, too.
The brief hour ride to Denver isn’t enough to chase my anxiety away. Though it will have to do. We have a security system to install.
And I’m already missing my woman.
The sooner we get this job going, the sooner I can get back to Candy.
As far as installs go, this was an in-and-out job. After a few hours of running wires, mounting security cameras, and monitoring the contractors installing all the new bullet-proof doors and lower level windows, our job is done.
Chase is talking to the homeowner, explaining how to access the security cameras from his phone, while Ziggy, Punk, and I haul our equipment back to the van. Once everything is loaded, Punk climbs in the van, waiting for Chase. I mosey on over to my hog, with Ziggy trailing a step behind me, talking my ear off about his plans for him and Jared this evening.
“The hubs gets worried before I leave for a mission—he’s cute like that. I like to help him relax by pouring him a stiff drink before giving him a stiffy. I plan on fucking him senseless tonight, chase all them worries of his away.”
“Sounds reasonable,” I chuckle, pulling my leather MC cut out of the storage compartment on the side of my bike.
We never wear our cuts on the jobs, opting to wear the Mercy Ravens Security logo Henley’s and tactical pants. It keeps our cuts protected from the dirtier jobs, as well as not scaring the clientele. Too many people fear bikers, thinking we’re all part of the one percent population. It’s whatever. You do what you need to do to keep the customer happy.
As I shake out my cut to unfold it, my marriage certificate to Candy falls out of the inside breast pocket onto the paved driveway.
Bending to scoop it up, Ziggy gets to it first.
Panicked, I yank the folded paper out of his hand. “That’s mine.”
“No shit.” Ziggy raises a blond eyebrow at me. “I picked it up to hand it back to you. It wasn’t like I was calling dibs.”
Ignoring him, I try to shove the paper square back into my pocket, only for my nerves to have my thumbs fumbling. It falls out of my hand again.
Ziggy snags it off the ground before I do. Damn him and his faster reflexes.
“Give me that,” I growl, lunging for it.
Ziggy stops me, one hand braced on my chest while the other holds my secret out of arm’s reach.
“Dude, what’s your deal? You’re acting weird—weirder than normal.” Ziggy eyeballs the paper with interest while fighting me off. “What is this?”
“None of your damn business. Hand it over.”
He holds up his hand with the paper, stopping me from attacking. “Fine, man. Chill.”
For a moment, I foolishly believe he’s going to give it to me. Ziggy sighs, shoulders slumping, putting me into a false sense of security. I, too, release the air in my lungs, my hand outstretched, waiting for him to hand it over.
Sensing I’ve let down my guard, Ziggy smirks. My mind barely registers he’s screwing with me before he shoves me away with his forearm. Ziggy takes off, running across the front yard, the marriage certificate in his hand. He cackles like a hyena as I chase after him.
Fucking juvenile shit.
We’re supposed to be grown-ass men, finishing work on a security job for some high-paying client. Instead, we look like overgrown children, playing a game of tag in a park. Atlas would chew our ass a new one if he saw how unprofessional we looked. Thank God he’s not here to witness us horsing around.
“ZIGGY!” I shout, my voice straining. “Give it back.”
He hollers over his shoulders, sprinting for his life. “You gonna tell me what it is?”
“No!”
“Then make me, bitch boy.” Ziggy kicks it into overdrive, heading toward a large oak tree.
Grunting, I increase my speed. When I get my hands on Ziggy, I’ll strangle him until he’s blue.
Ziggy makes it to the big oak before I can reach him. The two of us run around the tree like squirrels fighting over territory. Occasionally, I switch directions, trying to catch him off guard. My bro knows me too well, always able to anticipate my actions.
Panting like dogs, we’re both losing steam. I give up, resting my head on my forearm against the trunk of the oak. Ziggy gasps for breath on the other side of the tree, probably resting like me.
I’m grateful for the brief reprieve until I hear the distinct sound of thick paper being unfolded.
“Ziggy!” I warn with a growl, rushing around the tree.
But it’s too late.
Ziggy laughs with the paper unfolded in his hands. He jumps out of my reach when I make a grab for him. I brace myself for his reaction as he looks down at the certificate reading aloud, “This is to certify that the undersigned joined in lawful wedlock…”
Ziggy’s laughter slowly dies as he continues to read aloud, “Penn Lawson and…Leslie Williams…”
My best friend’s smile falls from his face, replaced with a frown as he squints at the marriage license, almost like he’s trying to make sense of the words on the page. He reads it over again, mumbling the words this time. When he’s done, his eyebrows nearly shoot to his hairline.
Unable to tolerate his judgy expression, I snatch the marriage certificate from his hands, stuffing it back into my cut.
“What the? You and Candy are hitched ?”
Flustered, I grab at my head with both hands. My secret is out before I’m ready to confront it. My back hits the trunk of the oak, sliding down its rough surface until my butt hits the leaf-covered ground.
This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. Ziggy should’ve never found out before Candy.
With the cat out of the bag, the news is bound to get back to my woman. And when Candy finds out from someone else that she and I are married, she’ll be mega-pissed I kept this from her.
Waving his hand in front of my face, Ziggy tries to grab my attention. “Earth to Penn Williams,” Ziggy taunts, switching out my last name for Candy’s.
It’s meant to be a dig. Though honestly, I don’t give a fuck if I take her last name or her mine. All I care about is her being okay with being my wife.
“Is this for real?”
Conceding to my fate, I release a lungful of air. “Yeah, it’s real, Zig.”
Acting like he stuck his finger in an electrical socket, Ziggy’s head shakes real fast.
“How? When? And why the hell wasn’t I invited?”
“It happened when we were in Vegas. We got wasted, went dancing?—”
Ziggy does a double-take, cutting me off. “You went dancing? You hate dancing.”
“Drunk, Zig,” I explain. “Neither of us was sober enough to know what we were doing. ”
Ziggy balks. “And you thought you should get married for shit, kicks, and giggles?”
“There was no thought involved,” I reply, annoyed with his pissy attitude while keeping my tone in check. My face falls into my hands with a groan. “Candy is going to be so pissed.”
“She’s going to be pissed?!” Ziggy gives an unamused snort. “What about your best friend? I’m learning you got married without me as your best man. We made a pact—to always be there for each other for big life events. Candy has no right to be angry when you guys were the ones hiding a whole-ass marriage. Why would you hide this from me? Why would you hide it at all? Did she talk you into keeping this a secret?”
He’s not understanding. This is too much to hold in.
I lift my head from my hands, looking at my brother as he continues to rant.
“Zig,” I say, loud enough to get his attention while not straining my vocal cords any more than I already have. “Don’t be upset with Candy. She doesn’t know either.”
Ziggy gives me a pointed look, his lips down-turned. “Do I look like I’m stupid, Butch?”
“Not stupid,” I placate, shaking my head. “Confused, though. You can’t be angry with Candy, because she has no clue we’re married.”
My best friend stares at me, his left eye twitching. “You mean to tell me your wife doesn’t know she’s your wife?”
“That’s the whole reason I was hiding the marriage license in my cut.”
Not following, Ziggy asks, “Please explain.”
Catching Ziggy up, I give him a rundown of the events from the night Candy and I tied the knot, and the morning after, when I questioned her about what she remembered from the night before.
After hearing my story, Ziggy sits beside me, leaning his back against the oak. “Damn, bro. I don’t know what to say. ”
“Me neither,” I confess. “If I knew what to say, I would have told Candy already.”
“I don’t get it.” Ziggy turns his head to face me. “Why the secrecy? You’re head over heels for Candy. You claimed her as your old woman and moved her into your suite at headquarters. Wasn’t your endgame being married to her?”
“Of course marriage was the endgame. The problem is, shit happened out of order prior to me knowing if Candy wanted a long-term commitment with me. She was acting distant the night after we hooked up—turns out she thought I only wanted her as a sexual partner, and not as my life partner. We cleared the air of that, and then the baby discussion happened?—”
Ziggy raises up his palm to stop me. “Hold up. Baby discussion? Butch, you can’t have kids. You’re snipped.”
“Thanks for the refresher on my anatomy,” I snark before continuing. “Candy was afraid to commit because she assumed I wanted kids, like all the others in the crew. She doesn’t want any. Don’t worry, I explained to her I didn’t want kids either, and how I was fixed. We cleared all those hurdles.”
I take in a big lung full of air and let it out slowly. “And then she joined the team.”
“Ah.” Ziggy nods, understanding. “And that triggered the argument between you love birds, and the spontaneous move.”
“Yes.” What a refreshing relief it is to confide in someone about my ordeal. “I tried to tell her after you all left our suite. But Flay came and told us we had church.”
“And ever since, the focus has been on the mission.”
“Exactly. There hasn’t been a good time to tell her.”
My brother gives me a small sympathetic smile, shaking his head. “Butch, there’s no such thing as a ‘good time’ when you’re dropping a bomb.”
I hang my head, looking at the ground. “I know. But neither she nor I can afford to go into this assignment angry with each other, not when we’re days away from going undercover. ”
“You think she’d be angry finding out you two are married?”
“No clue. I don’t want to risk it. Yeah, she’s agreed to be my domme, and I’ve claimed her as mine, but we haven’t even told each other we love each other yet.”
“Do you love her?”
I look at my friend like he’s stupid. “Do I need a brain to function? Of course I love her. I’ve been in love with her for as long as I’ve known her, and I’ve only fallen deeper for her each day since. Doesn’t mean she feels the same for me— yet .”
“Start there, Butchy boy. Express your feelings to her. It may make it easier when you confess your marriage.”
“Maybe,” I muse aloud, helpless.
“Look, bro. With everything going on, I understand waiting to tell her you’re her husband, even if I don’t agree with it. You know Candy best. I’ll keep my mouth shut as long as you promise to come clean to her after the mission is done. She deserves to know she’s attached to you—for better or worse.”
Weighing my options, I raise my face to the late fall sky, a pink and purple sunset disappears into the earth. Ziggy isn’t wrong. Transparency is vital in a happy and healthy relationship. Under any other circumstance, I would’ve told Candy already. At least, I’d like to believe I’d have told her by now.
The more I think about the reasons I shouldn’t tell Candy yet, the more convinced I am I should wait.
Confronting a past abuser is serious shit. I’m not willing to clear my conscience and possibly risk upsetting Candy prior to going undercover.
I close my eyes for a moment, committing to my decision before opening them again and looking at my friend with conviction. “I promise to tell her when this is all behind us.”
Ziggy pats me on the shoulder before standing to walk back to our bikes. “It’s your funeral, bro. I’ll make sure we bury you wearing your cut for the occasion.”