ELEVEN
Splice
“Have you had any issues with Bryce since you paid him a visit?” Asked Axel.
The Prez was resting against the clubhouse bar, Splice at his side. It was early the next morning, and few people were there.
“Nah, he paid up, but it’s his last warning. If I have to deal with him again, I say we find someone else to manage his dispensary.”
“I talked to Devil, and he agrees with you. Of the ten dispensaries we invested in, Bryce’s has the lowest turnover. Give it four weeks and see where we’re at then.”
“Got it.” Agreed Splice.
“How are the two new bars looking?”
“Steady customers through the door. Hellfire’s Bar and Grill is bringing in more traffic, especially to the coffee shop part. Scar suggested we do some local advertising. Radio and online.”
Axel smirked. “My little genius. Talk to the Devil, see what funds he can free up to do that. Coordinate with Primo; he should know what shit is needed to advertise online.”
The one-on-one meeting with the Prez lasted a while longer.
“Did Vince catch up with you yesterday?”
“He’s got an idea for that dilapidated strip mall over by the airport. He wants the club to collaborate with him. Anything that big, we gotta take it to the council first, but it’s got me interested.”
Vince had an eye for spotting locations that would make money, and he always brought them to the MC first.
“I can take a ride over, look around, and see what state the place is in. A strip mall would take a sizeable chunk of change even to get it up to scratch. Where do we stand with building permits since the mayor retired?”
“Chains has had a few meetings with the new mayor. She’s a tough cookie; not sure we can get her on the books to cut through the red tape.”
“I heard she’s cleaning up faster than Kylie,” half-laughed Splice. Reno’s funeral director, Old Lady, was the go-to for making crimes vanish, no questions asked.
The new mayor, Caroline Keper, was in her late thirties and trying to make her mark during her tenure as the local power.
So far, she’d left the Diablos alone because their club didn’t leave calling cards on anything they did.
Every business they owned was legitimate.
What those businesses did under the counter was always done carefully.
Fielding, their sourced police officer, informed them about departmental investigations into the MC and warned of raids.
The club hadn’t faced the Riot Brothers in months, but Axel learned they had returned from Alabama once more. No attempt had yet been made to hit the club again.
“Wonder if this mayor has eyes on the Riot Brothers.” Pondered Splice. “Harvey is likely to strike a deal with Keper if he can.”
“Harvey is a nobody,” rumbled Axel, his eyes switching to the right when he saw his old lady waddle her little pregnant self into the area. Splice was about to lose the Prez’s attention because no one else existed once Scarlett was in his orbit.
Sure enough, Axel beckoned his wife forward with a two-finger motion, and the woman grinned, making her way over.
“Hey, you two. Having a secret meeting so early? Is it about my birthday party?”
“Wildcat, your birthday ain’t until next year,” Axel said, roping an arm around the tiny pixie-haired woman.
“That’s just details and something someone would say who wanted me off the party scent.”
“If you want a party, you can have a party.”
“You’ll spoil her, Prez,” remarked Splice.
Scarlett pointed a finger. “You keep your nose out of it!”
Splice, knowing not to cross a woman, held up his hands. “Sure thing, First Lady. You’re his brat to deal with.”
Every biker in the club respected Axel’s wife and treated her like a baby sister.
“What’s this I hear about you being territorial over a woman recently?” Scarlett teased.
“Are you listening to gossip again, Scar?”
“Absolutely. So, who was it?”
“No one.”
“Ha,” she scoffed and then yelled out. “Hey, Mouse! Come over here, please.”
That mouthy turd rolled off the couch and ambled over. Splice rested his hands against the bar behind him. Never believe a biker who says they don’t gossip. His MC was like the Golden Girls if they latched onto a bit of news about any member.
Looking tired, Mouse scrubbed at his messy hair. “What’s up, Scar?”
“Didn’t you say Splice was being possessive over a woman recently?”
“Ohhhh,” laughed Mouse and met Splice’s stern eyes.
The thing about Mouse was, he had no filter and no sense of what death he was looking at if he dared open his trap.
“So, picture the scene: Denver, Primo, and me were eating at the Grill, and this stunning babe came in. Splice went at her like a missile.”
“Fuck off, I did not.” He scowled.
“Should’ve seen you through my peepers,” smirked the smaller man.
Splice was about to hang the asshat upside down by his laces.
“Then he moved us all to her table. The lovely Lisa, wasn’t it?
Softly spoken like an angel and pretty as could be.
He even walked her out to her car. She’s friends with Nina, but I never saw her at the club before. ”
Scarlett’s shocked face whipped up to look at Splice. “Are you talking about Lisa Wolfe? That Lisa?”
Three faces were looking at him, and Splice didn’t know why he felt obstinate about talking about Lisa. Discussing his hookups was never something he bothered with before.
But Lisa wasn’t a hookup.
“The claim is they know each other through Nina, but they gave contradictory answers.” Smirked Mouse, loving tattling.
Splice was gonna knock his teeth out.
“Small world. I didn’t know you guys knew each other. She comes to all of our girl dates.”
“And our boy here didn’t like it when pretty Lisa was speaking Italian with Primo. She made Primo swoon his ass off.”
“Fuck off, Mouse,” warned Splice with a growl, and the youngest biker backed up.
Before Scarlett could activate her nosy gene, Splice pushed himself off the bar.
“Axel, you’ve gotta control your woman!” he clipped. “I’m out.”
“Wait, Splice.” Called out Scarlett. “Are you trying to date Lisa?”
Mouse’s idiotic laughter followed Splice out of the clubhouse as he ignored her question.
Lisa was his business; his chest burned with... what? Protective instincts? Maybe. But it felt like something else. Something stronger, a long-since dead sensation, now awakened. Possessiveness. He didn’t want to share how he knew her or what she’d once meant to him.
Fishing out his phone as he took slow steps across to the open auto shop, he noted how Lisa hadn’t replied to his last text.
Turns out she was the only woman who wasn’t bombarding him with texts.
Stepping into the building, Tomb was working under a car. Splice hooked up a metal chair with a foot and plopped down on it by the door.
Splice: What’s up, babe?
Seeing the dots move on the screen instantly gave him a thrill.
Lisa: The ceiling. The sky. Airplanes. Balloons. Birds.
He snorted at her immediate sarcasm.
Lisa: Do you mean what I’m doing right now?
Splice: Yes.
A picture came through this time, showing a plate of toast and a coffee cup.
Lisa: I’m having breakfast. I can’t keep up with all the youngsters’ new vocabulary these days.
Splice snorted. She was a cheeky little thing.
Splice: 29 is hardly young.
Lisa: You’ll always be younger than me.
Splice had so many thoughts about how she’d enjoyed his youthful self. But he reckoned she’d stop replying to him if he got saucy right off the bat.
Contacting her wasn’t even about flirting. That was the truth.
But flirting had always been Splice’s second language, and if he wanted to reconnect with Lisa, he’d have to curb that habit.
It was true: those old clichés about her not being like other women. She was the one woman who’d always been able to put him in his place, and he’d fucking loved it.
Reconnect, first.
And then?
He’d see what then.
Splice: My skateboarding days are behind me now.
Lisa: Don’t give up, champ. Maybe try an electric scooter to keep your bones in the juvenile game.
Oh, sweetheart. She was saying stuff that made him want to say something naughty back, but he bit his cheek and stopped himself.
Right then, Tomb climbed out from under the car, oil streaked over his cheeks and hands. He spotted Splice and came over.
“When did you get here?”
“Just now. I was about to hang Mouse from the rafters, so I came over before I broke the brother-on-brother laws.”
Tomb scoffed. “What did he do today?”
“Running his mouth, as usual.”
“You rarely bite.”
That was true. He was usually the one leading the charge for ribbing any brother.
“You wanna give me a hand?”
“Nah, I gotta head over to the car wash soon. What’s for dinner at your place? Am I inviting myself over?”
“I’ll grill some shit.”
“Cool. Add some shit for me.”
While Tomb talked, Splice glanced at his phone, reviewing the notes he’d made on all of Lisa’s ideal man qualities. He’d intended to delete it, but since that night, he must have looked at her wish list a hundred times, cementing it to memory.
His eyes scanned it, and he chuckled, seeing “No gray eyes.”
It wasn’t as though he could pluck out his eyeballs. And sticking contacts into them was out; he was a squeamish motherfucker about putting anything near his eyes.
He rolled with his instant idea and typed a text.
Splice: Do you have time to meet for coffee today?
He watched the dots dancing.
Then they stopped. Restarted. And stopped.
If he were text-savvy, he’d know what that shit meant. But suddenly there were no more moving dots, and no reply came. Frowning, Splice waited, holding his phone like a teenage girl excited for a response.
Scoffing at what he was doing, he rolled to his feet and shoved the phone into a pocket.
“Later, bro,” he told Tomb, raising a hand to Devil working in the far bay.
He took a stroll to his bike. He felt his phone buzz halfway to the car wash, but Splice had to wait twenty minutes to check it.
He should be embarrassed for how fast he pulled out his phone, or for the sloppy way he grinned seeing Lisa’s name on the screen.
Lisa: I have a lot on my to-do list today.
He kind of expected that answer, and it didn’t discourage him.
Splice: I’ll call you sometime later.
Lisa: What for?
Splice grinned. He bet she was frowning at her phone right now. He liked the idea of keeping her guessing. So, he left the texting there for now.
Ten minutes later, as he walked through the car wash, making sure everyone was doing what they were paid to do, a new text arrived.
Lisa: Ryan?
Lisa: Why do you want to call me?
Splice: Because you want to talk to me.
Lisa:
It wasn’t a denial.
On Splice went with his day.
There was only one hiccup when he had to play the hard boss with one arrogant prick who wasn’t pulling his weight and harassing the female manager. He fired the guy on the spot and waited around until he left.
“Get hold of me if he comes around causing issues, yeah?” he informed the girl.
“Thanks, Splice. I didn’t wanna bother you with it.”
“It’s what I’m here for.” He told her and went to his next check-in.
Throughout the day, he sent Lisa random messages, and she responded to each one.
More text messages than he’d sent all fucking year. And here he was, sipping a black coffee in the diner, while he waited for his lunch to come out, trying to write something to make her send him those laughing faces again.
Splice: I’m having dinner over at Tomb and Nina’s later. Have you told Nina that you know me?
Lisa: .....
Lisa: Not yet. I wasn’t sure how to bring it up since I hadn’t mentioned it at their wedding.
Splice: I’ll let her know.
Lisa: Noooo, Ryan!
Splice: Are you ashamed to admit knowing me? I’m crushed as fuck. Is it because I can’t skateboard anymore?
Smiling into his cup, he thanked the server for the plate of food appearing in front of him. He was several bites in when Lisa replied.
Lisa:
Lisa: I’ll tell Nina soon.
Lisa: I’ll make it casual.
Jesus, she was cute as fuck.
He didn’t mind her keeping him a secret.
So he told her so.
Splice: I’ll be your dirty little secret for now.
As he’d known, no reply came after that.
Splice was pleased with how his day had gone. He’d established a connection with Lisa again, and she hadn’t rejected it.
There was no game plan; he’d rarely gone into dating any woman with a plan, but this was Lisa Wolfe, the woman who’d once ruled over his heart, the woman who’d broken it, too. There were no lingering hard feelings on his part. However, he’d been curious why she’d dropped him the way she had.
But something had brought her into his world once more.
He’d be a fool not to act on it.
Even if it was only to be friendly with her.
Remember how you jotted down her wish list and stared at it like a goof, trying to figure out how to make it happen? A voice mocked in his head and Splice shoved food into his piehole to shut the voice up. He wasn’t lacking in self-awareness; he’d known what he was doing.
All he knew was that Lisa had been difficult to forget.
And now she was back.
Splice paid attention to his gut feelings.
His instincts urged him to get close to her again, by any means and in any form she might accept.