Chapter 37
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Grinder
“Your girl is killin’ it at the shop.”
I raise my chin at Shade, taking his words in and letting them fill my chest with pride.
Parker’s been working at the new tattoo shop for almost three months now, and people are going nuts for her art.
Of course, I never doubted her talent, I’m just happy that the whole of Rockford Beach is onboard, too.
“Not my girl. My dolphin.” I raise a brow to hammer my point in before taking a swig of my beer. We’re waiting for Hoops to start Church and for Psycho to get his lazy ass here.
“I’m not calling her a dolphin, that shit’s weird.” Shade leans back in his chair, shaking his head like he wants to be anywhere but involved in this conversation.
“It’s wank, Grinder. You’re basically saying my sister’s a fish.”
“Mammal, you degenerate. Bottlenosed dolphins are fucking mammals. Did y’all even go to school?
” Just as I start laughing at this ridiculous conversation, Psycho walks in with Hoops hot on his heels.
“And where the fuck have you been, dude? We’ve been waiting for like, twenty minutes.
” There’s no venom in my tone but definitely a hint of irritation.
After all, I can think of fifty things off the top of my head that I’d rather be doing with Parker and Spence right now instead of waiting around doing absolutely nothing for shits and giggles.
Although, ever since we had the talk about Parker killing the fireman, Spence has been a bit cagey, not to mention holed up at his apartment studying for his MCAT so he can go back to school for four years.
I get it, I do. Spencer feels guilty on some level. The guy was his colleague, and on the surface, seemed harmless. For Parker, however, it was about protecting what’s hers, and Doc is definitely ours. He’ll eventually come around, and when he does, we’ll make it up to him.
“Fuck off.” Psycho’s response is like an ice bucket on sunburnt skin.
To be clear, banter in this club is the equivalent of oxygen.
So much of the shit we do is soul crushing—for some—that talking shit alleviates the oppression of stress.
Again, I’m lucky to not carry that burden.
If we kill someone, it’s usually to protect the club and its members.
Every single one…from the actual riders to the Khunts to the women who mother us better than anyone from our pasts.
You fuck with us, we fuck right back. Except when we do, it’s permanent.
“Who pissed in your Wheaties?” I flick a bottle cap at him but he doesn’t even react.
On any given day, we’d be throwing insults at each other, one-upping until Hoops bangs the gavel for order. To say Psycho’s acting weird is a gross understatement and I don’t like it.
As he sits down, Bandit crawls out of his hoodie and goes around the table sniffing at everyone and nibbling on some carrots that Bear always keeps in a baggy, just in case. Something’s wrong with this picture but I just can’t put my finger on it.
“Not now, Grinder.” My head swivels to the left as my gaze collides with Hoops. Something’s happened and it’s not good.
“Is someone hurt? Who do I need to kill?” With my palms against the arm rests of my chair, I’m shifting my weight so I can stand and…do something, when Psycho takes the wind from my sails.
“It’s Ninja.” From the way he’s just choked out our mascot’s name, I brace myself for the worst. My chest feels tight and my pulse is hammering, anticipating his next words. “I don’t think he’s gonna make it.”
Silence falls in the room, a dark cloud that affects even Bandit, who’s now curled up in Bear’s hand chewing with very little enthusiasm.
We’ve had Ninja for so long, it’s hard to imagine this club without him.
“What happened? Is he sick?” Axel is the only one brave enough to break the silence.
“Nah, he’s old, man.” Psycho shrugs, then leans back in his chair, his eyes covered in a slight sheen.
Fuck, if he cries, I cry. That’s a fact.
“I mean, most ratties don’t live past four years so we got almost a year more out of him.
” Rubbing his palms over his face like he’s trying to erase his urge to cry, Psycho gives himself a full-body shake then clears his throat.
“All right, Church in session.” Hoops bangs the gavel, clearly taking Psycho’s cue that this conversation is over before everyone starts bawling.
“We’ve got a few things we need to touch on.
First, we gotta make sure this stupid cult thing isn’t rebuilding.
I’ve heard things around town these last couple of weeks and I’m not liking the intel. ”
“Yeah, Stoney at the Surf Shack down at the beach said a couple of kids, no older than twenty, were making the rounds with flyers and shit. Looks sus to him, but then he thought it was just the shrooms.” Axle’s playing with his lighter, flipping it on and off as he speaks.
“Same for Maribel’s. A group of young men stopped by but she put an end to that shit real quick,” Bear adds, just as Bandit stretches then runs to Psycho, speeding up his arm and hiding in his hoodie.
“I say we blow up all of their houses in a Die Hard kinda way.” I make a motion with my hands like an explosion and mimic the sound for good measure. Just in case someone wasn’t following my train of thought.
Psycho chuckles and I mentally pat myself on the back for that feat.
“Subtle.” Sledge shakes his head. “You and my sister truly are a match made in Heaven.”
“And Spencer. Don’t forget the third side to our triangle of love.” There is zero sarcasm in my comment, just straight up facts.
“Anyway, let’s keep an eye out and if anything starts ringing alarm bells, we’ll reconvene.
Now, it’s that time of year, boys. We’ve got Kincaid and Jonesy outside waiting.
” Hoops lifts his chin, pointing it to the entrance like we don’t know where it is.
“They think we’re about to go riding into town, you know, to make our presence known to anyone who wants to fuck with our people. “
I rub my hands together like an evil jokester and grin like the devil.
“Can I make them sweat a little?” I excel at this part. Our pups are becoming full fledged Khaos. Nothing says party like making them think they weren’t voted in. Is it cruel? Absolutely. Do we do it anyway? One hundred percent.
“You’re such an ass, G. Plus, they’re too intelligent to think we voted them out. We need them and we already consider them family.” Oh, sweet, na?ve Teddy Bear.
I stand, hold out my hand, and let a sinister grin play out on my face. “Wanna bet?”
My words barely out of my mouth before I’ve got twenties flying across the table. Because he’s on board, Sledge takes the bets and the money, keeping track of who says what. Bear just shakes his head, defeated by our lack of maturity. It’s overrated anyway.
“You’re insane.”
“Aw, you big ol’ cub, why you gotta whisper sweet nothin’s to me?” For my troubles, I get a massive slap to my head before I head to the door.
Showtime.
Opening the door that separates our church meeting room from the rest of the world, I put on my angry daddy mask, hiding my amusement like a fucking pro, if I say so myself.
Before I can even scare the will to live out of our prospects, I’m the one who stops in my own tracks, mouth hanging open, eyes wide and watery.
“What? Don’t I even get a snarky comment?” Shaking my head and trying to get my brain to start working again, I launch myself at my best friend but both Kincaid and Jonesy latch onto my arms on either side to hold me back.
“Easy, brother. I still have stitches.” When I narrow my eyes at our prospects, they immediately let go and this time I hold up my hand for a bro hug.
“Fuck, it’s good to see you.” My voice cracks as I give two side punches to Boner’s back making sure I’m gentler than usual.
“Can’t get rid of me this easily, man. I’ve got shit to do, women to fuck, and bikes to ride.” Fuck yeah, he does.
As soon as we let each other go, I wheel around and point an accusing finger all these assholes at Church clapping like fucking seals.
“None of you motherfuckers thought it’d be a good idea to tell me he was getting out, today?” Goddamn, I would’ve gone to pick him up.
“And ruin the surprise? We had the prospects do their jobs and pick him up.” Hoops blesses us with a rare, genuine, grin then points his index finger at my face. “Wouldn’t miss that for any fucking thing.”
My frown is deep and judging from the chuckling all around, I’m guessing I’m the butt of this joke.
That’s when I feel them. Twin tears tickling the sides of my cheeks and running down my neck. I wipe them away and rub the back of my hands across my jeans.
“Har har, don’t mock me because I’m in tune with my emotions. Y’all can get all the way fucked.” I grin, winking at Hoops, who nods right back to me. He gets it.
Boner settles in his seat at the table, and fuck, it’s good to see him where he belongs.
Back to the problem at hand.
“Prospects. Get your asses in here.”
Kincaid narrows her eyes, searching mine like a fucking x-ray machine. Poor Jonesy immediately snaps his head up from his phone, eyes wide with the fear of God swimming in them as he first looks at me then at Kincaid. Neither one of us is giving him any indication of what the fuck is going on.
“There a problem?” I fucking love this woman. She’ll be a perfect addition to our club with that kind of fearless attitude.
“Since when do prospects ask questions? Get your asses in here and shut your fucking mouths.” Okay, I may be putting it on a little too thick here.
Jonesy is the first to move, scuffing his feet on the floor like he’s walking to his death. Kincaid tilts her head to the side, still staring at me like she’s digging into my soul, then a hint of a smile plays on her mouth and I know I’m caught.
Fucking Kincaid ruining all my fun with her witchy shit.
She follows Jonesy without uttering a single word. But I know she knows. And she knows that I know that she knows. We’re all fucking knowing here, except for Bear. He can’t figure this out or I’ll lose my money, and that ain’t happening.
“Kincaid, Jonesy, stand in the back.” Hoops is all professional and shit, sitting in his chair like a fucking king.
I cross my arms over my chest, making Jonesy feel really fucking uncomfortable while the other brothers avoid all eye contact. Pussies. Those motherfuckers will break out into a laughing fit if their gazes so much as cross each other.
All a bunch of amateurs. Except Boner. He’s lighting up a joint and avoiding eye contact with me at all costs.
“Do you know why you’re here?” Prospects don’t come into Church unless it’s necessary for planning an attack and we need all hands on deck, so Hoops asking this is vague as fuck.
“No, Prez, I got no idea.” Jonesy’s entire world is crumbling at his feet with Hoops’s clipped tone. In his mind, we’re about to boot him out for something he can’t even remember doing. I know this because we’ve all gone through this shit. It’s a stupid tradition, but tradition nonetheless.
“Maybe.” Fucking Kincaid is going to ruin this, isn’t she?
“What are you thinking, prospect?” Bear is the one to ask because he’s too smart for his own good. Dammit.
“Nah, it’s not my place to say. I’d rather Prez tell us.” She makes eye contact with me, brief enough that nobody suspects anything, but I know. She’s probably sniffed out all of the things, including the bet. If she thinks I’m going to split my earnings with her, she’s got another thing coming.
“Fair enough.” Hoops stands, voice grave, face somber.
“Give us your cuts, you’re done here.” Jonesy recoils like he’s been physically hit but doesn’t argue.
With hunched shoulders and a face that makes me regret half of my life choices, he shrugs off his cut and places it on the table.
Bash takes it and brings it to Hoops, who flips it over and rips off the prospect patches in front and back.
Everyone turns to Kincaid. With her eyes narrowed just a fraction and her head tilted slightly to one side like this whole thing just became a mathematical equation, I can tell she’s got doubts. Her spine isn’t as straight and her posture is lacking her signature confidence.
Silly wabbit. As if kicking them out was ever an option.
Finally, she pulls her shoulders back and lets her cut fall before catching it with her hand and placing it where Jonesy’s was a second ago. No one speaks. We let the moment weigh down on us like we’re sorry to let them go but have no choice.
Once Hoops repeats his earlier action, he holds his hand out to Sledge without saying a word. Jonesy and Kincaid follow his movement like even the thought of blinking is too much for them.
As soon as Sledge places two new patches in Hoops’s hand, they both breathe out in relief. It’s collective, which means I win the bet because Kincaid really did think, at the end, that she was about to be kicked out of the Sons of Khaos.
“You’ve paid your dues as prospects for this club.
Proven your loyalty and given everything you have to us.
We are proud, Jonesy, to call you our brother.
” Poor kid does a little whining sound like he’s fighting not to break down and cry when Hoops hands him his new and improved cut.
“Kincaid, we are proud to have you as our first sister member. Hopefully the first of many.” He hands her the new cut, and for the first time since I’ve met her, I sense a lot of fucking emotions in her. Like…a lot.
Is she…having a moment?
“This is more than a job, more than a marriage contract. This is for life and this club chooses you. Ride, die, and bleed for speed. Welcome to the Sons of Khaos.”
We all cry out our motto and welcome our new members with slaps to the back and a couple of bear hugs.
“Pay up, motherfucker!” I hold one hand out to Bear and the other to Sledge for my payday.
“She knew!” Bear shakes his head as he points to Kincaid.
“She suspected, not the same thing, brother.” Narrowing his eyes at me, he huffs out a breath, then slaps a twenty in my hand. Cheap fucker. Meanwhile, Sledge gives the other brothers their money back.
“What the fuck, Sledge?” Why am I not feeling the weight of the cash in my hands?
“They all bet against Bear.” My grin spreads wide across my lips as I watch our big, bad, Bear deflate and distribute his money to all the brothers. Good thing we only bet twenty bucks or else this guy would be broke.
My work here is done.
“Now, to be clear, you lazy fuckers, I’ve jumped off the choo-choo cum-train but…
” I stare down all the single members and point an accusing index finger at them.
Boner grins, knowing exactly what I’m about to say.
“You motherfuckers need to keep the dream alive. So, let’s party and someone better get the cum-train to the station. ”