Chapter 3 #4
Enter retired Sergeant Jesse Bell, 91B Wheeled Vehicle Mechanic, U.S.
Army. Quiet, reserved, and a tendency to grunt rather than reply with words, Grumpy became the club’s first prospect, and with his expertise, the club’s first business, an auto garage, was built.
As the club grew, and the residents of Mount Grove learned to trust the new MC that had taken up refuge in their small town, they soon outgrew using the garage that the club had inherited when they bought the property they now called home.
Being a small town, there was only one other auto shop in the immediate area, and it was run by a money-hungry middle-aged man, who had a reputation for gouging his female customers and creating non-existent “required” maintenance to drive up the bill for everyone.
But when you’re the only business in town, people have no choice but to go to you.
He knew that, and he exploited that fact for decades.
So when the club quickly took over his business, the man tried to intimidate his customers into paying him more.
The VDMC might not be outlaws or thugs, but they certainly were not going to put up with that bullshit.
One visit from Scar sent the fucker packing in the middle of the night, and several months of navigating red tape later, the mechanic’s shop was theirs.
They even paid full price for the land, the building, and the equipment.
By this point, Ghost and Ranger came on as prospects, followed soon after by Cage, Pumpkin, and Angel.
The idea of creating a bar that was clean, and safe, intrigued both men, who decided to bring the idea to the officers for approval, even knowing the club had already shot down the idea once.
While Pumpkin chose to work in the auto garage, getting his CDL so the club could add towing to their list of services, Cage brought up adding a construction business to the club’s roster.
Angel had no desire to work for a bar, an auto garage, or a construction company.
Instead, like Lucky, she went into business for herself and created her tattoo studio.
From the moment Steel had given them the green light, Ghost and Ranger had poured everything they had into the bar.
Ranger had thought it had been devastating when, nearly six years ago, the roof had caved in during a bad snowstorm.
It was nothing compared to when he’d seen it charred and barely standing two weeks after the explosion.
Now, three and a half months later, Demon on the Rocks was still being reconstructed.
There’d been insurance, and the police investigation, and things Ranger was sure he didn’t even know about because he hadn’t been in a state to know them.
Ghost had dealt with all that. Alone. Oh, he was sure Ghost had had help from Keys, Demo, and especially Susan Brown, the club’s business attorney, but Ranger, his partner, had not been there to assist him.
There was a lot that still needed to be figured out, and Ranger planned on being here for it.
He didn’t know with his sobriety if he’d ever be able to work in the bar again, but he had no intention of giving it up.
This place was still Ranger and Ghost’s.
He would not allow Ritchie and Cameron’s selfish actions to take this away from him, too.
Holding a pair of very tiny ear muffs, Cage came out of the front frame where the entrance door would one day be.
He had a tool belt around his waist, where his cat, Sledge, perched in the pocket, and his one-year-old daughter, Ophelia, strapped to his chest. Both the little girl and Cage had yellow hard hats on their heads.
“Hey, guys!” He lifted Ophelia’s hand to wave at Ranger and Ghost in greeting. “Here to see the progress?”
Ranger, though, shook his head. Seeing the skeleton building was hard enough. He didn’t think he was ready to see the gutted interior. “Not yet.”
Cage nodded his understanding. “What’re you in town for? Not trying to show off that pathetic tiny dick of yours to my wife again, right?”
Ranger snorted. His tattoo was healing nicely, having already taken off the second skin Angel had placed on him. “There are impressionable little ears around,” he reminded the man.
“I have to pay for her college fund somehow,” Cage said with a wide smile. Ophelia wiggled her tiny arms and legs like she knew they were talking about her.
When Angel had adopted Bree, she had established the club swear jar.
Any time one of the club swore around one of the club kids, they owed money to the jar.
The lack of incentive failed, and soon the swear jar became so full that it was renamed Bree’s college fund jar.
Additional donations found their way into the jar, too, and some were even known to drop off a fifty or hundred dollar bill first thing in the morning to cover themselves for the full day.
Scotty was also very good at telling on the members when they hadn’t paid up, his own father included.
Ghost booped Ophelia’s nose with his pointer finger. “We’re on the way to the garage.”
Cage made a face. “You haven’t been there recently, have you?”
Straightening, Ghost frowned. “No. Why?”
“Grumpy’s mom decided to take over in his absence. It’s been, um, interesting…over there.” From Cage’s wide eyes and pulled lips, “interesting” was not a good thing.
Ghost groaned, cracking his neck. “Why is Mrs. Bell running things?”
“Honestly? Because Demo is too chickenshit to insult a woman by telling her that she’s running the business into the ground, and she keeps showing up regardless of how many times Grumpy tells her to go home.”
Ranger’s eyebrows lifted, and he suddenly had an intense need to go back to Becks and Ghost’s house to hug his mother. She was overbearing and was trying to smother him with revenge pies, but she wasn’t pushy or manipulative.
Ghost scratched a ginger eyebrow. “Well, I guess it’s a good thing I have no experience with mothers and have no issue insulting one.”
“You love my mother,” Ranger argued.
“Your mother is easy to love,” Ghost countered. “I have no problem kicking Grumpy’s mother off club property. What happens at his home is on him, but the garage is mine and I won’t see it in ruins because this woman doesn’t know how to cut the apron strings.”
“She calls him ‘baby boy’,” Cage added with a grimace. “Grumpy hates it. You can see it in his eye—the real one,” he unnecessarily clarified.
Ranger shook his head. “I’m no mechanic, but I worked the tow truck while Pumpkin was in the hospital. Probably need a refresher course, but I can see about pitching in over there to give Grumpy a buffer between him and his mom.”
Ghost turned to Ranger, crossing his arms over his chest. “You want to work at the garage?”
“I made it a week,” Ranger reminded him. “Cross said to wait to get my footing before I job hunted.” He waved a hand towards the bar. “Clearly not working here anytime soon. Grumpy has enough shit going on in his life right now, and doesn’t need to see his business fail, too.”
Ghost watched him for a heartbeat before he nodded. “Jumper’s been picking up hours, and we hired two other mechanics in Grumpy’s absence. Let’s head over there and see what we’re walking into before you start searching for an Employee of the Month mug.”
Cage chuckled. “Good luck. Between you and me, that woman scares me.”
Ranger frowned at his club brother. “You just called Demo a chickenshit for not standing up to her, like you would in his place.”
Cage frantically shook his head. “Just wait until you meet her. The Chickenshit Club is growing fast.”
Ranger and Ghost exchanged a look before Ghost cracked his knuckles. “Let’s go.”