2. Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Revenant
The wind blows through my hair as I ride through Winlaw.
I don’t know how or when I ended up with a standing appointment with Pastor Richards.
What I do know is that he is everything I thought I was.
Raised Southern Baptist in a home that believed God would always have my back.
Even after my first and second deployments, I still believed.
I believed when I lost men in battle, I believed when I lay suffering in a military hospital bed, and I believed when I felt my humanity slip away.
But now? Now I’m angry. I’m angry that God sat back and watched the suffering.
I’m angry that the prayers and promises I made to my brothers in arms went unanswered.
And now, in the aftermath what do I have?
A standing appointment with a man who survived the trials God sent him with his faith intact.
Pastor Richards sits silent as he listens to my ramblings.
Swinging between “why did God forsake me?” and “what the fuck is my purpose here?” He never answers.
Never really says a word, just looks at me with eyes that see too much.
Truth be told, I have no fucking clue why I keep coming.
He never has an answer for me. Much like God these days I guess.
I turn onto the long gravel road that leads to the clubhouse.
There are two ways on to the property. The main entrance, filled with pot holes and barely maintained, making the farm look like every other slightly run down property in Winlaw.
And then there’s the club entrance. Hidden from the road, blink and you’d miss it.
Smoother. Wider. Better for our sleds. It loops around the back of our clubhouse, an old barn that sits in the middle of the land that belongs to Gallows’ family.
His mother Vera still lives on the property, in a big old farm house a ten minute walk away.
The place looks like any other farm in these parts. Until you look a little closer. Until you notice the satellites on the roof. The solar panels. The various ephemera that only preppers have the imagination to come up with and the knowledge to use.
My brothers’ bikes glint in the sunlight, lined up, facing the club’s road as if waiting for us to ride out at any moment.
Backing in, I shut off my engine, tip my head back, close my eyes against the sun, and take a deep breath.
Judging by the number of bikes here it looks like a full house, and I’m not sure I can be fucked facing everyone.
Today’s session with Pastor Richards was particularly draining, even if the fucker hardly said a word.
“Shitty session?”
Mercy’s voice rolls over me enough to crack an eyelid open. “No worse than usual.”
“But no better either, huh?”
Tipping my head up I stare at her. She’s Prez’s older sister and a complete and utter bad bitch. An army medic with a story of her own, she isn’t one to back down from, well, near as fuck anything.
“You know how it goes,” I shrug, swinging a leg over my bike.
“Don’t I,” she mutters, leading the way into the clubhouse.
The sun outside is forgotten as we step into the dark, moody common room.
As with all MC clubhouses there is a bar running across the back, pool tables to my left and couches and shit to my right.
Let’s not forget the stripper poles that sit pride of place on a small raised platform just past the pool tables.
The cut sluts are already working the room even though it’s only early afternoon, sniffing for cock like it’s their next meal.
I watch as Mercy stomps off upstairs, my gaze only leaving when someone’s heavy-ass hand lands on my shoulder.
“It’s June 21st,” Gallows murmurs, watching his sister's back as she disappears.
“Shit.” I groan. “I thought she seemed a little lighter when she got back from your trip to the DRMC,” I mutter.
“Change of scenery will do that. But the shit you left behind is still waiting for ya to get home.”
“Ah fuck, I should -”
“Leave it brother. She’ll be fine. Just needs the day to drink herself into a coma.” He slaps me harder than need be, before his booming voice calls Church.
It’s the last fucking thing I need, listening to brothers bitch and moan about the state of our businesses.
But shit, I’m not Mercy who has this date off every year to sink into her darkness before coming out the other side, her trauma buried deep.
No, unlike Mercy I have to face my shit all day every day and it’s not like I can tap out because I had a rough session.
No matter how much I want to be holed up in my room, choking my cock to thoughts of Sunny Richards.
I hang back, trying to get my shit together before following my brothers into Church.
The room itself is nothing special. I guess being vets we’re not used to anything nice.
Fuck, Gallows could have set a tent up in the backyard and told us it was Church and none of us would have questioned a fucking thing.
Instead, he gave us some creature comforts.
A plain, dark room. No windows and no decorations except for our patch painted on the wall by Gallows’ mom.
A scarred, worn wooden table sits in the middle of the room, big enough to seat us all on the mismatched shitty chairs that have all seen better days.
“Settle the fuck down,” Gallows growls, eyeballing everyone for a moment.
“The Callahans called, they have cargo ready to go.” Prez puts his hand in the air, “I don’t wanna hear shit about it.
I know we prefer moving other cargo, but we got families to feed.
It’s on us to move the shit through our mountains.
I don’t give a fuck if rednecks in Chattanooga shoot each other.
As long as Winlaw is safe, I don’t fucking care. ”
We all nod. None of us like some of the shit we move, but that’s the business we’re in.
Winlaw is tucked deep in the Georgia foothills of the Appalachians and well, you need something to disappear for a while then come out the otherside safe and sound, you call us.
Sometimes it’s guns. Sometimes it’s stolen car parts.
Antiques. Cash. Shit sometimes it’s a woman trying to get away from an abusive husband.
Whatever the cargo, we’ll get it through the mountains. For a fee.
“The Mullins also have cargo ready to move.”
“How much?” Hush asks, loudly, his eyes scanning the room. Brother has hearing loss from being too close to an IED going off. It’s been years now and he’s learnt to read lips well enough, but still needs to be facing whoever is talking.
Ledger brings his shaky hand to his mouth, licking a finger, then slowly moving to turn a page in his ever present treasurer's notebook. “Enough to keep us in payroll for a month.”
Coyote whistles low, shaking his head. “The Mullins outdid themselves.”
“Plenty more where that came from too,” Gallows agrees.
“We need a truck to run the car parts, Hollow you’re driving.
I’ll have Fog and Sleet on you.” ‘Yes Prez’ sounds out around the room.
“Coyote, I’ve got you driving the guns. Rev, Cedar, Jubilee and Brake are on your security.
Leave early so Rev can be back in time.”
I nod, appreciating Prez’s thoughts. He knows where I disappear to every day. Much like Sunny knows when I’ll be arriving at her family’s cozy church. Sunny. Too perfect. Too pure. Too clean. Too young and not mine.
“Good. Vera is on dinner tonight; bunnies have been asked to fuck off and come back at 9pm.”
“Good call. Can’t have Momma beatin’ any more of their asses. Two of them never came back after the last beat down.” Coyote smirks. Vera hates the cut sluts with a vengeance, and the feeling is mutual.
Gallows nods, knowing what his momma is like. “Any other business?”
Ledger looks down at his notes, finger moving along the page. “Funeral home is booked out ‘til early next week.”
Gallows leans back in his chair. “The heat causing problems?”
“Hollis doesn’t seem to mind it,” Ledger snorts.
“Send over one of the prospects as an extra pair of hands.” Ledger nods at Gallows words, making note. “Anything else?”
“Yeah,” Sleet says, sitting forward. “Bumped into Sheriff Barnes. Said a couple of his boys asking questions about the warehouse.”
This has everyone sitting up. Barnes isn’t a threat. He knows what we’re about. We know what he’s about. As long as we keep the shit off the streets he doesn’t make our jobs any harder.
“I’ll have a beer with him come Thursday.” Gallows grunts.
“What’s Thursday?” Hollow asks.
“The day his Mrs. heads to Atlanta to visit the grandkids and the Sheriff takes his side piece to dinner.” We all snort at Prez’s words. In a town like Winlaw it’s hard to keep secrets. “Brake, HVAC?”
“Booked solid. County’s got us booked in for Wednesday. The jail air-con shit itself.” Brake grins.
“Think they’ll frisk ya on the way in? I heard Brenda there gives handjobs if you’re pretty.” Coyote grins.
Gallows jabs a finger at Brake, “Just fix the air-con. I don’t need county crawling up our asses cos you got your dick out.”
“Yes, Prez.” Brake grins.
Gallows looks around the table, leaving the floor open.
I hope to hell no one has anything else to say.
I want to get out of here. Maybe get my dick sucked before going for a ride.
No one says shit so Gallows nods once, slams down the gavel, then pushes back his seat.
Palm flat on the table, he gets his legs underneath him, checking to make sure nothing is in the way of his prosthetic before he moves to leave the room.
The brothers start filtering out, but I linger a little longer. Enjoying the peace.
“Rev!”
Gritting my teeth, my peace shattered, I get up from my seat, storming in the direction of the shithead that yelled my name.
“Rev!” the prospect, Split yells again. “Got a visitor here for you.” He grins before his gaze moves to Sunny and her ample tits in that dress.
I don’t even think, just charge his way, hand outreached ready to gouge out his eyes for looking upon something so perfect.
Sunny
Uh oh. Revenant looks fit to tear the prospect apart and I kind of like that.
Perhaps my daddy is right when he says that I love trouble.
Not the best thing for a pastor's daughter to like, but, well, my momma always tells me to be true to myself. Seems being true to myself means stepping in front of the prospect at the last minute and trying not to moan when Revenant’s large, rough hand lands on my throat.
He freezes in place, the callouses on his hand burning the skin at my pulse point. “Fuck, Sunny,” he tears his hand away like I’ve burned him, eyes wide, but I didn’t miss them darkening for a split second. “You shouldn’t be here,” he growls low. Low enough to hit deep in my belly.
“Oh, I know. I figured you’d say that, but, well, I’m not easily scared away and I had extra of these so thought you might like them.” I hold up the basket in my hands, trying not to laugh when Revenant stares and blinks at it like I’ve just pulled a bunny out of a hat.
“Sunny -”
“Oh hey, Gallows,” I wave at the SOMC Prez as he walks past with some of the MC brothers. Because I’m friendly. And I needed to cut off Revenant before he says something that’ll piss me off.
Which could be a number of things. All of them boiling down to “I’m a bad man, you’re a good girl, we can’t be together.
” I know what Revenant thinks. I can see it written all over his face when he stomps into our little church everyday to seek counsel from my father.
I’ve heard his deep voice seeping through the walls from my spot on the worn pew.
I’ve seen men like him come and go through our church doors.
I can read that man like a book, but unlike a book I can’t skip straight to the good part.
I have to do the work to make him feel worthy of me.
Which means inserting myself into his life whether he likes it or not.
Creepy, maybe. But hell, I’m the eldest child.
I didn’t make it this far in a family of five kids without playing dirty.
“Sunny, what brings you to the clubhouse?” Gallows asks, coming to a stop. His eyes dart to the basket in my hands.
“I had a wild hair and baked too many cupcakes. Thought Revenant may want them.” I wiggle the basket in the air, daring Revenant to make a move before one of his brothers does.
“Aw shit, if he doesn’t want them I’ll gladly -”
“Fuck off, Ledger,” Revenant growls before gently taking the basket from my hand. I make sure our fingers brush just a little.
“Is that any way to talk to the man that pays you?” Ledger asks, throwing me a wink.
“I don’t give a shit who you’re treasurer for, get away from Sunny.”
Ledger backs away slowly, palms up with a grin on his face.
“Thank you,” Revenant says gruffly, trying to avoid all eye contact.
I stare up at him, taking in the tattoos that peek out of the neckline of his shirt. He doesn’t say a thing, and nor do I.
“Well, this is fucking painful to watch,” Gallows mumbles, high tailing it somewhere that isn’t where we’re standing.
“You shouldn’t be hanging around here, Sunny.”
I let my head tilt, my brow raised. “Why not?”
“It’s not safe. I’m not safe,” Revenant spits, blue eyes blazing.
I wait for a moment, searching his gaze, an involuntary smile starting to grow on my lips.
“Huh, that’s weird because I’ve never felt safer.
” I place a hand on his shoulder, watching out for any flinching.
When he stands solid, unmoving I roll up to my tip toes to whisper in his ear.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, Revenant. Enjoy the cupcakes. "
I spin on my white sneakers then head out the door, adding a little more sass and sway to my hips as I leave. I also throw a wave over my shoulder to the rest of the SOMC brothers who are hanging around. Operation Make Revenant Mine has officially begun.