Chapter 15
The past week has been stressful for everyone.
When Marshall didn’t show up for his parole appointment, we were pissed.
Then we had to wait to see if his parole officer would do anything about it, like go to his home or send the police to check on him.
Steven Bauer did neither. According to Outlaw, he hadn’t entered an appointment change in the system for later in the week.
All that was noted was that the meeting was missed.
Outlaw kept eyes on Marshall’s home in case he snuck back there for some reason.
Nothing. As for our suspicions that something was wrong with Jess, those hadn’t been substantiated or disproven.
Without being able to get into his actual laptop or PC, Outlaw had no way to say for sure that there hadn’t been some kind of communication with Webb.
His phone records showed no new calls between Jess and the burner number.
But that didn’t mean anything. There could be face-to-face meetings.
All we knew was that Jess hadn’t contacted any of his family, nor had the cops paid us any more visits.
Stalker and I hated keeping our suspicions from Daya, but why worry her for nothing? As for Daya and Breezy, they’d been extra quiet. We did our best to distract them when we were home.
The one positive was that Daya was healing wonderfully. The wound was resolving fast. Zara was more than pleased with it. Our woman said she barely remembered it. She was moving without visual signs of pain.
It was Saturday night, and we were going to join the club at the clubhouse. One reason was that we needed it. We hadn’t been there throughout the week. The other was that Stalker and I had a special presentation to make. We were psyched. Daya’s property cut had come in.
We’d asked Jessica and Madisen if they’d bring a bunch of their pastries from the bakery to the club tonight. They said they were more than happy to do it. Everyone was always happy to have some of their sweets.
We waited until eight o’clock before going over to join.
It gave everyone time for dinner and cleanup, and to arrange their evening so they could come to the clubhouse.
I watched Daya’s ass sway as we entered the common room.
She had on a tight pair of jeans that molded to her ass like a second skin.
My cock was trying to come to attention. I caught Stalker’s gaze and shifted mine to our woman’s fine ass, then back to him. He grinned and mouthed, She’s killing me. I nodded in agreement and bit my knuckle.
The room was buzzing with activity, but the absence of children was noticeable.
The other old ladies were there, but the kids weren't. As our names were shouted and calls to join various groups rang out, we joined the closest one.
It had Gears, Joker, Slash, and Iceman with Raina, Aria, and Meadow.
Breezy waved at us before hurrying over to join Aspen and Sage.
As the women hugged, we shook hands with the men. Stalker asked the obvious question.
“Where are the kiddos?”
“We all decided to get Kamila, Lolly, and their nieces, Sami and Tabby, to babysit. The girls are in their late teens but are very good with kids. We gave them a go at our various houses over the past month to see how they do,” Raina explained.
“We all thought we needed a night of just being adults. We love them, but a break is nice,” Joker added.
“I can imagine,” I said.
“You might not have to imagine long now that you have Daya. Are you thinking of kids soon, or wait a year or two?” Iceman asked.
“Don’t rush them,” Meadow chastised him.
“I’m not rushing them, Killing Frost. I’m curious,” he defended.
“We’re waiting for a few things to happen first, and then we’ll decide. We do want kids. I’ll be thirty next year,” Daya confessed.
“Thirty isn’t old. You have time. Just be warned, if you haven’t been yet. These bikers like to get us knocked up right away,” Aria told her in a stage whisper.
“I heard,” our old lady replied, winking.
And that was what launched us. We talked only a smidge about our workweek, sharing anything unusual or funny.
We claimed drinks at the bar, and, though we suggested sitting down, Daya wanted to circulate.
We went from bunch to bunch, stood there talking for a bit, then moved on to the next.
She did take a couple of short rest periods, but that was it.
Stalker and I kept a close watch on Daya for signs of pain or fatigue, but so far, none.
We’d been there for about forty-five minutes when Player gave us a chin lift.
Taking that as the signal that all was ready to go, we excused ourselves and steered Daya toward the bar.
She assumed we were there to get another drink.
When we reached it, I slid my arms under her shoulders and lifted her.
She cried out in surprise, causing others to laugh.
I would’ve held her waist to do it, but I was scared of pulling at her wound.
I sat her ass on the bar. When she was seated, Stalker and I swung around to face the biggest part of the room. Everyone had gotten quieter.
“What’re you two doing?” Daya asked.
“Just relax. We’ll be done in a minute,” Stalker said to divert her. Stryder and Breezy had moved closer.
“Over a week ago, Predator and I asked our brothers a very important question. We wanted to know if they would approve Dayanara as our old lady. They voted, and then we kept the result a secret from her. We didn’t want her to worry about anything else. It’s been a bitch to hide it.”
“For sure, and we’ve almost slipped up more than a couple of times.
However, thankfully, we no longer have to hide the answer.
And we’re thrilled to have our family here tonight as we reveal the result.
Dayanara, our hailstorm, there is nothing more we want than to have you be our old lady.
And we’re blessed that our brothers saw this and agreed.
So your days as a semi-unattached woman are gone.
You are one hundred percent a claimed old lady.
And to make sure everyone knows it, we have something that belongs to you,” I tacked on.
Stalker took the cut that was passed over the bar by Player.
He was behind it. As murmurs and claps started, he held up her cut.
Daya grinned happily and did a little butt wiggle on the bar.
Stalker held onto one side of it, and I had the other.
We let her see the back and then turned it so she could read the front.
To loud cheers, we slid it over her arms and then leaned into her. We each gave her a passionate kiss.
The joy that ran through me when I read Property of Predator & Stalker on the back was immense.
We’d worried that with both our names on it, they might not fit.
And I smirked when she read her nickname, then shook her head and smiled.
Right there for all to see was Hailstorm.
Breezy and Stryder were the first to come up and offer congratulations.
While they did, Madisen and Jessica got Ivan and Keenan to help them carry out huge bakery boxes. They put them on the bar but warned everyone that the guests of honor got first pick. There were playful boos and hisses. We took our food, especially sweets, seriously.
Eventually, we made it through the hugs, congratulations, and handshakes. We helped Daya down from the bar. We went through the boxes, grabbed what we wanted, and then found a table.
“Daya, I love your new name. Hailstorm suits you,” Breezy told her, giggling.
“Hey, brat, keep it up, and I’m stealing your pastries,” Daya told her, pretending to lunge toward her plate. Breezy shrieked and yanked it away, hunching over it like she was protecting gold.
“Get back, or I’ll bite. No one does baked goodies like Angel’s Delights. Mine,” Breezy mockingly snapped her teeth at her older sister.
Stryder had joined us. He laughed.
“Better watch it, they’ll draw blood when it comes to their sweets. Have them sync up at the same time of the month and see what happens. I always just threw chocolate in the house if I had to visit and waited for them to get distracted.”
This remark put him on the receiving end of their verbal abuse. They were hilarious, and everyone within earshot was having fun. When they calmed down, he got a serious look on his face.
“Cousin, you look damn good wearing that property cut. I’m happy that you found these two. And they know if they don’t treat you right, they’ll have to answer to me.” He bared his teeth menacingly.
“Hang on there, Stryder, no need to get feral. We know how fortunate we are. We won’t fuck it up,” I swore.
“That’s right. We need our hailstorm like others need oxygen,” Stalker added.
“Aren’t they sweet?” Our woman stated.
She was leaning toward Stalker first, no doubt to kiss him, when there was a loud buzzing.
We froze. We knew what it was. It was the buzzer at the gate.
It rang in the common room, since it was most logical that at least someone would be here, of all the places on the compound.
It would also send out a text to our phones.
It was like a phone tree where if someone didn’t pick up within thirty seconds, it would go to the next person in line.
The monitor for the main camera at the gate was visible behind the bar. Payne was the one to get to it first.
“Son of a bitch, we’ve got company.”
“Who is it?” Bull asked.
“It’s the cops again. Looks like it’s Talbot, and I can’t see the other one. Shit,” Payne muttered.
“Christ, what do they want now?” I snapped.
“Will someone go and escort those assholes in here?” Bull requested.
Instead of it being one of the prospects, Payne and Tank headed for the door. The uneasiness in the air kept everyone from speaking above a whisper as we waited. The seconds dragged by. It was less than five minutes, though it felt five times as long before the door opened and in strolled Tank.