Chapter 9
BOLT
I wake with a groan as my stomach twists, and I’m sure there’s a man in my head pounding drums in time with my heartbeat. I peel my eyes open—well, one of them. For some reason, the other one stays closed.
“What the hell happened to me?” I groan as I slowly sit up and look around. Everything is familiar. I’m in my home, in my bedroom, but I feel like I got run over by a truck.
“Here a ghrá,” Jeanie says. Blearily, I look up.
She looks both amused and sympathetic at the same time.
Holding out a bottle of water with one hand, I spy the pills in the other and hope they’re painkillers.
Taking them, I drink down the water like I haven't had any for days, as Jeanie tells me why I feel like dog shit. “As to what happened to you? You were initiated into the O’Shea family.”
“Holy fuck, sweetness. I think your dad and uncles poisoned me.” I moan pathetically as I lean back in the bed only to have her catch my hand and pull me back into a sitting position.
She’s laughing as she does this, it makes me wonder when she developed a sadistic side. I mean, can’t she tell I’m dying?
“No, they didn’t,” she reassures me, her voice full of amusement. “But they did give you some of the homebrew which has a really high alcohol content. Sadly, you can’t wallow. Coal called Church. Apparently, sometime yesterday, you told him that you needed it to be called.”
‘I did? Fuck maybe I did….I don’t remember that though.’
“Okay...” I gulp as nausea rises, and I give myself a pep talk. “I can do this.”
“Yes, you can. Let’s get you in the shower and to the clubhouse for breakfast.”
That’s what we do, but not before I lose my stomach. I feel better after that, but fuck me gently. I am never drinking with the O’Shea men ever again.
Jeanie is sympathetic, but I also know she is laughing at me, even if she isn’t doing it to my face.
It is a slow walk to the clubhouse, my head pounding with every step, but the fresh air makes me feel a little better.
Opening up the door, the noise hits us like a tidal wave, and I groan.
“Come on; let’s get some food into you. You’ll feel better; I promise.
” Jeanie cajoles as she pushes me towards the table, and I collapse into my chair with a whimper, my head falling onto my arm as if my neck muscles have lost all their function.
I’m well aware that my brothers are laughing at me, and I can’t say that I blame them. Weakly, I lift my hand and give them the finger, only to have them laugh louder.
“Fuck, brother, who did you piss off?” Cross asks.
“Adam,” I mutter into my arm.
“Oh shit,” Blue murmurs, chuckling. “You had to pick the daughter of the deadliest out of the bunch.”
“Hey, my dad’s an angel,” Jeanie snickers, “unless you knock up one of his girls.”
“Does Sam look like that too?” Thea asks with amusement. Lifting my head so that they get a good look at my face, she winces in sympathy.
“No,” I mutter grumpily, wondering how she knows about Sam and Ally’s news. I’m not firing on all cylinders, though, and I know she’s in contact with Moira and Butcher. Makes me wonder how many more know of my initiation.
“Here, a stór,” Jeanie shoves a bacon sandwich under my nose and a cup of coffee into my hand. “Eat, you’ll feel better.”
“Thanks, sweetness,” I say, taking a tentative bite of the sandwich.
And when it stays and doesn’t make its way back up, I wolf it down.
Wondering why the table has gone silent as I eat, I look up and bite back a grin when I note Jeanie looking at each of my brothers with a deadly eye as if daring them to say something about my state.
I love that she’s not scared to stand up to them.
I’m feeling a little more human now that I have some food in me, but that doesn’t mean that I don’t feel the pain when Coal bellows, “Church!” right by my ear.
“Fuck,” I groan, holding my head, wondering if I am too young to die. He did that on purpose, the dickhead. Standing from the table, I move to follow my brothers to church. They all seem to make ten times more noise than usual.
“Take this,” Jeanie pushes another bottle of water into my hands, ordering, “drink that while you’re in Church.”
Kissing her forehead, I say, “Thanks, sweetness.” Opening the bottle, I drink half of it by the time I’m at the door to church.
Finding my chair, I sink into it and wait for the meeting to start. Only remembering just in time to block my ears with my fingers as Coal hits the table with the gavel.
“Fucker,” I mutter as he smirks at me.
Nickel punches my shoulder. “Show your pres some respect.”
“Fuck off, Nickel. You know as well as I do that, he wasn’t being my Pres right then; he was being an annoying older brother.”
The brothers are laughing at us, but mostly at me. Wankers! I love that word. That’s what they are: a bunch of wankers, the lot of them.
I’m brought out of my thoughts by Coal clearing his throat. Cross nudges my shoulder.
My gaze roams the table in confusion to find them all looking at me.
“What?
“You tell us, Bolt,” Coal states. “You’re the one who asked for this meeting.”
“I did?”
Coal nods. “Yep.”
I’m thinking hard, but for the life of me I don’t remember shit. This hangover is like a fog, and none of these fuckers are giving me a clue. Wankers!
Tilting my hips, I ease my phone from my pocket and bring up my messages.
'Huh, he’s right; there is a message.'
I squint as I try to make out what I wrote. I must have been drunker than a skunk when I sent it because it’s confusing as hell.
ME – nee cl church.
PRES/PIABB - ?
ME – CALL chur 2mr
PRES/ PIABB – Fucksake Bolt. Are you drunk? Why do I need to call church tomorrow?
ME – Jean OL
PRES/ PIABB – You want me to call church so you can make Jeanie your old lady.
ME – What I say.
PRES/ PIABB – Jesus Christ, okay. I hope you’re safe. Call me if you need me.
ME – Love u piabb. I good.
That was it. It’s coming back to me now. I look up from deciphering my messages.
“I remember now,” I tell the brothers. “I want to make Jeanie my old lady.”
There’s a beat of silence when Brass asks, “Do we even need to put this to a vote? I mean, we kind of figured out you would anyway.”
“We vote same as always,” Coal says. “Anyone have an issue with Jeanie becoming Bolt’s old lady?”
I’m not sure why I’m nervous, but I am. And the fuckers know it. Because they make me sweat by waiting to pass their votes.
“Fuck’s sake; vote already,” I growl when I can’t wait any longer. All I want to do is get out of here and go sleep away this hangover from hell. I don’t care what Jeanie says, I’m sure her dad tried to poison me.
Laughter rings out when I lose it, and the votes come in. It’s unanimous. They all voted yes.
“Congratulations, brother,” Coal says, putting a box on the table in front of me. Taking the lid off, I stare at it in surprise and pride when I see Property of Cobalt on the patch.
“How?” I ask. I mean, it’s only been two days.
“Mom did it yesterday while you were out having the scan. She knew you’d want it sooner rather than later,” Coal explains.
“We all knew, Bolt, as soon as we saw you two together that first night. All of us could see your connection. And with you announcing the pregnancy and then you both going to see her family, we knew you’d want it. ”
“Plus, son,” Dad starts as I turn to him, “only a man serious about his woman takes a beating like that from her dad. I don’t say it often, but I’m proud of you.”
“Fuck,” I say, blinking so the tears that prick my eyes don’t fall. Clearing my throat, I look down at the cut one more time before lifting my head. “Thanks, Dad. In fact, thanks all of you. I know I haven’t always been the best brother, but I promise I’ll keep working on changing that.”
“We know.” Nickel squeezes my shoulder. “Now how about you give that to your woman.”
“Before we do that,” Coal says, picking up the gavel. “Tell me, little brother, what does PIABB stand for.”
Standing, I pick up the box and tuck it under my arm before replying with a cheeky smirk, “Pain In The Ass Big Brother.”
“You little fuck,” Coal shouts, banging the gavel to dismiss church and lunging for me. Laughing at the look on his face, I run out of church and into the common room only to be taken to the ground by Coal tackling me.
The box holding Jeanie’s cut goes flying and ends up under the Christmas tree as the two of us wrestle much like we did as children.
Finally, when my hangover gets too much for me and not wanting to spew on the clubhouse floor, I call uncle.
Coal and I lay laughing and panting on the floor under the Christmas tree lights while my niece Shea climbs over us, using us as her own personal climbing frames.
Not that either of us mind. Our family crowds around, laughing at us.
Few motorcycle clubs would see their president messing around like this.
I know the US chapter definitely wouldn’t, and it makes me happy that we were given this chance to have our own.
Our club has more of a family feel to it than the US chapter. I prefer this.
If anything, messing around today reminds us that not everything is about finding traffickers, worrying about a brother who’s undercover, and the danger that brings.
And it’s good to let off steam. It helps remind us that our brotherhood is much more than just a brotherhood. We’re also a family. I was lucky in the family I had been born into and even luckier in the men who chose to be part of our brotherhood.
We’ll protect our family always.