Chapter 17
Lola stood behind the bar of the clubhouse serving breakfast. The party the night before had lasted until shortly before midnight when the grounds cleared, and the club brought the festivities inside. Now, the kids were waking up hungry, and it was his job to handle that. Good thing he was efficient with a microwave. Pancakes and eggs, he could handle, and coffee was a necessity that he kept fresh.
He placed another juice box on the bar. “Good morning, pretty girl,” Lola greeted as Sunni and Chasity eased onto a bar stool in the commons.
“That best be meant for Chasity,” Cowboy barked, storming toward the bar behind Sunni.
Ignoring his comment, Lola grinned and leaned onto the bar across from Sunni. “What can I get for you this morning?”
“You can still disappear,” Cowboy snapped as he dropped his hand onto the bar between them with a thud.
Lola barked a laugh and cocked his head. “I’m family. Like it or not, I’m not going anywhere.”
Cowboy’s chest rumbled with what sounded to be a low growl but said nothing as King jumped in. “I believe it’s time you two had a little chat.”
“For what?” Cowboy demanded.
“I hear you’re good with numbers, is that right?” King asked Lola.
“Yeah.”
“There you go. You can bond over math. He could possibly be the next club secretary,” Lola noted the humor filling King’s eyes when he glanced up from cutting up his daughter Kingsley’s pancakes.
“Like how many times I can shove his face through a wall before he passes out?” Cowboy growled.
“That’s alright. Because once I pass out, you don’t know whose face I’m dreaming of,” Lola came back with a smirk.
“You son-of-a—”
“Hold on now,” Rash cut in. “Just because he’ll be thinking of you, Cowboy, it’s no reason to go over the edge.”
“Y’all can kiss my ass,” Cowboy shouted to a laughter-filled room.
Lola leaned onto the bar top with a smirk. “Really?” He wiggled his brows.
“I should have died when I had the chance and not dealt with you.” Cowboy narrowed his eyes toward Lola.
“Don’t say that!” Sunni yelled, punching Cowboy in the stomach.
Lola grinned. “Then I could have been there to pick up the pieces for you,” Lola said to Cowboy.
Lola’s head slammed against the wall with the last word rushing out on a breath. Cowboy’s hand pressed against his throat pinning him in place. Pain radiated down his neck and throughout his body. Lola forced back the natural desire to fight and forced a smile as his breath became shallow.
Sunni, with Chasity in one arm, ran around the bar in a panic. Her fingers twisted in Cowboy’s sleeve, tugging.
“Adrian. Stop it. He can’t breathe.”
“Good,” Cowboy spat out.
Lola’s eyes blurred, but he kept them locked on Cowboy’s. His brothers were rolling with laughter. Uncontrollable laughter. Lola, although he thought he must be turning blue, he never wavered his grin.
Lola noted the instant something clicked in Cowboy. Cowboy eased his hold but didn’t release Lola as his breathing slowed.
Cowboy’s shoulders dropped as did his hand. Lola stood, still against the wall, rubbing his throat. “I was your challenge,” Cowboy guessed.
Sunni’s eyes grew as they darted from Cowboy to Lola and back. “Is everything okay?” she whispered.
Cowboy and Lola both nodded without looking her way.
Cowboy turned again toward the room. “Y’all can all kiss my ass.” He whirled back toward Lola. “Except you. You stay away from me and my ass.” The room erupted once again even louder this time.
“Nothing has ever gotten under your skin,” King admitted, moving to stand next to his secretary and friend, “Remember the first time you brought Sunni around was the first time Lola joined us for a cookout. Both new and same age. You fumed when they spoke to each other. We couldn’t resist.” Then, he turned toward Sunni. “No offense, darlin’.”
“You’ll get used to their unsavory style at times,” Avery, King’s old lady, told Sunni. “Just overlook it and move along. They’re nothing but a bunch of overgrown kids.”
“Who’s up for some excitement this fine morning to begin our new year?” Rash shouted, breaking the tension of the room.
“I’ll take bets that this one can’t hang with you,” Cowboy challenged, signaling toward Lola with a thumb over his shoulder.
“I’m in,” Mac announced. One by one, the brothers chose sides until all bets were in.
“What are we doing?” Lola asked.
“Son, your dirt bike still behind the building?” KO asked Theo.
“Yes, sir,” the boy replied. “Mine and Zane’s are back there.”
“King?” KO asked as a request of permission.
“Loser repairs the bikes,” King announced.
“Oz and I will set up a course,” Nova said pushing from the table where he and Ruby had finished their morning coffee. Oz tossed his paper plate into the trash can and headed toward the door with Nova.
***
The first obstacle course wasn’t bad. Lola aced it with the small dirt bike over ramps and through mazes. Each challenge grew more intense, and now, Lola wondered if he’d survive the day.
“You sure you guys aren’t stringing me along just to see what kills me?” Lola asked, standing next to Mac, his focus on the ladder being secured next to the roof of the second floor.
Mac replied without looking his way. “No. You’ll be fine. You’re young. Bones heal.”
“I guess I know now how Rash ended up with so many scars,” Lola said under his breath, bringing Mac to cock his head toward him. “What?” Lola asked.
“He lived, didn’t he?”
“Well, you’re no help,” Lola told Mac and headed up the ladder with Rash.
“You’ve done this before?” Lola asked Rash as they stood on the roof, gauging the leap they were about to make.
“It’s been a while,” Rash said, smirking. “And it was with a bike.”
Lola cut his eyes toward his brother.
Rash laughed. “Yeah, brought up a bicycle and jumped it down to various levels.” He looked at Lola. “That one didn’t go too well.”
“Let’s go then,” Lola said.
Rash ran, leaping from the roof, catching a rope, and swinging toward the trampoline strategically placed in the open yard. He landed, hitting the black circle and pressing it into the ground before bouncing back to its intended height. He rolled to the edge and dropped to the ground.
“I’m haunting every single one of you if I die,” Lola shouted. Then he ran just as Rash had and leapt through the air. The rope seemed to bite and gnaw at his palms as he swung away from the building. He squeezed harder then opened his fingers wide. His stomach whooshed from his body as the target came closer, and he sucked in a breath. “Oh, shit!”
He had less momentum and weight forcing the swing out and the springs of the trampoline pinched his back as they broke the fall. He rolled onto the ground afraid to move. Lying on his back, he stared into the clouds, coaching the feeling to return to his legs.
“You’re still breathing,” Mac observed, standing over him, soon joined by everyone.
“Barely,” he forced out.
King dropped to a knee next to him. “How you feel? Anything broken?”
“Crap. I feel like Death threw me on a skillet to take me like a pancake, then laughed and said, no, let him live in pain.”
King barked a laugh along with the faces around Lola who the pain kept his eyes from focusing on. “Good to know nothing is broken. I’d hate to see you show up for work tomorrow in a cast. That could make things tough.”
Like things are not tough enough as it is. Lola closed his eyes a moment as the nerves in his lower body came back to life.
“Ready?”
Lola opened his eyes to Mac standing above him, holding out a hand. Reaching up, he gripped his wrist and slowly gained his feet and made his way inside. Thankful the antics were over, and that he was breathing as Mac put it, he ignored the pain that lingered.
He not only lost the bet but also his dignity today. He longed to do nothing but fall into bed and sleep for days.
Finally, Lola threw his leg over his bike and eased onto the seat. He lifted a hand toward Oz and Ghost who were standing next to their bikes nearby and nudged up his kickstand. His body felt as if it had aged seventy years in a day, grimacing at each bump in the clubhouse drive.
The moment he was positive he was out of sight, his shoulders dropped, and he lifted his face toward the welcoming cold air rushing over his windshield. He relied on pure muscle memory to carry him home.
***
“Well, must have been some party. You look like warmed over death,” Amber commented from the stairway as they passed—he on his way to his room, she on her way out.
“Death, yes. Warm, not yet,” he replied. “I’m going straight to the shower and bed. I’ll see you guys tomorrow.”
Amber came to a stop, whirling toward Lola. “What? No shower comments for company? You really are out of it. What happened?”
“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you. Just trust me when I say, I don’t have wings.”
“Must have been quite the day.”
“That’s one way to put it,” he said.
He shot a quick smile toward Mia standing by the railing and disappeared into his room. His ripped and dusty clothes marked his path straight into the bathroom. The hot spray scalded his skin and seeped deep into his bones easing the pain a bit. A quick dry-off and a towel around his waist, he limped toward the bed, ready to call it a night before the sun did. He paused. A tray sat in the middle of his bed. A tall glass of iced tea, a ham and cheese sandwich, and a couple of pills. His smile was faint from fatigue. He downed the pills first, with half the sandwich right after. Tossing the towel to the foot of the bed, he moved to pull open a drawer for underwear. Pulling them on, he finished the last of the food in a few bites and threw back his head until the glass was empty.
That hit the spot. His day was done. He turned and fell into bed.