Chapter 18
TRUCK
Knocking on Pres’ office door, I wait for the “Come in,” or “Fuck off,” to be heard. Lucky for me it is the first that is shouted, and I open the door and step inside.
“Morning, Pres. Can I have a few minutes to run something past you?” I ask quickly, and when I get a nod and his finger pointing to the chair in front of his desk, I take a seat. All this without Pres lifting his head from a sheet of paper he is studying.
I wait patiently for Tracker to finish what he is doing and think about date night with Rory.
I hope we are going to like each other, past the initial, shit she’s fuckin’ stunning reaction.
If her personality is shit, which I’ve not seen in the time I’ve spent with her, I’m going to be very disappointed.
Placing the paperwork onto the desk, Tracker looks up and leans back in his seat. Giving me all his attention at this point. “Okay, Truck, what can I do for you?”
“I’ve been speaking with Xero, Collins, and Mitchell and Pres, they would be more than happy to become full brothers.
They do not, however, want to be prospects.
I can understand why they don’t want to be prospects as they’ve not that long since left the service.
They came here to help us out, and they have been fuckin’ awesome.
Worked alongside me without a complaint.
They want to stay on and keep working at the gas station.
They’d cover the security from Mrs. Ambles' place with it being the closest point. They just don’t see themselves as prospects and being told to do all the shit jobs.
I wanted to know your feelings since you were not against them joining the club.
” I spit it all out as quickly as I can and wait for Tracker’s response.
“Well, it’s what I hoped would happen. You, along with the others, know how many we had to cull from the club.
The number of brothers who were corrupted was staggering.
I’ve never had to do anything as distasteful as removing brothers for the evil shit they had been doing.
Drugs and trafficking are something I won’t allow in this club.
” Tracker takes a deep breath before continuing.
“Yes, I am and would be happy for the three of them to be club brothers. I’m trying to build a better club, one with respect for the name of the club and each other.
I know, as I’ve said, cleaning out the scum was necessary, but it left a gap we needed to fill.
The eight brothers who went to the Satan’s Guardians MC are never coming back, and from the whispers I’ve heard they are thinking of branching out and creating a new chapter.
Good for them, I’m happy for them, but we need to move on ourselves, too.
Let’s bring it to church and if I’m honest, Truck, I don’t see a brother having an issue with them being full brothers. ”
“Okay, Pres, that’s what I thought, too.
The brothers know what it is like to be former military and to need somewhere to plant roots.
We’ve all done it at one time or another.
I’m thankful you took us out of the contract with the government.
They were using us as collateral damage, and expendable waste,” I say the last with a nasty taste in my mouth.
Tracker nods as he replies, “Yeah, it was needed. What we earned in the few years we worked for them gave us a bank balance to work with. The extra that Georgie gave us has been a safety net, which we’ve never touched until now.
But saying that, Truck, we are only using the interest that money has earned.
We can create more businesses as the club grows.
We are only covering the businesses we have at this point, and we’d have to employ townies if we take on more, and from experience that’s not a good thing.
” Taking a moment before continuing, I wait for him to speak again.
“Let’s bring it to church tomorrow evening, Truck.
I don’t think we’ll have a problem with the three getting brother status. ”
Nodding, I get to my feet, give Pres a chin lift, and leave his office. Next on my agenda is finding Cilla who is usually here on a Saturday. I’m sure Pres will get his hands on Ayla at some time during the day, or we’ll be seeing him sulk, and that is a sight I can assure you.
Stepping into the common room, I’m delighted to see Cilla sitting at a table with Ayla in her stroller sleeping soundly. I walk over and take a seat at the table and give Cilla my full attention, which is unusual for me, but gets her to look at me questioningly.
“I need you to speak to Bono and the others.”
Cilla frowns and cuts in before I can say more. “Why is that Truck?”
“I am heavily relying on Rum helping me at the gas station. He’s not a young man any longer, as you know. I don’t want him to drop dead and leave me to cope with everything. So…”
Cilla laughs, “So? What do you expect me to do, or Bono for that matter?”
“Well, if he dies, I want Bono, Tank, and Pyro to push him back into his body. Not allow him to cross over, as you call it. I need him here, and I want them to make sure he doesn’t go over there,” I say all that quickly and with such force that Cilla stares at me with her mouth hanging open.
Cilla suddenly gets that glazed look, which means she’s speaking with her ghostly friends. I wait patiently, well, not so patiently if I’m telling the truth, but we all know to leave her alone when she’s in this mode.
Finger appears and takes a seat next to me. He studies Cilla before looking at me. “What’s going on?”
I explain what I’ve asked of Cilla, and he smirks so broadly that it’s unnerving. “You want Bono and the boys to push Rum’s soul back into his body if he dies?”
“Yeah, I do. I don’t want left in charge of the gas station not knowing what the fuck I’m doing.
Besides that, he’s brilliant company and I like him.
He’s a great man and deserves some companionship.
You know he’s been alone quite a while now, and he was sitting staring out the window bored, before he started helping me.
He’s like a father figure, and you know I never had that.
Now, I’ve got that I’m hanging onto it.” I turn my attention back to Cilla who is watching my conversation with Finger.
She has a soft, yet sad look on her face.
“Bono said he’s not sure if they can do that, but they’ll do their best. They are going to check out if they can do it by practicing on anyone else they find newly passed.” Cilla grins, and I know she’s finding this amusing. Me! I’m grateful they are going to try.
“Thank you, Cilla. Thank you, Bono.” I look down when Ayla, who is now awake giggles and says loudly enough for everyone to hear. “Ono.”
I look around quickly in case Tracker is within hearing range. We all know he’s doing his best to get Ayla to say Tracker before she says Dada or another name. But Bono’s name is one she’s said already, and he’s not happy about that.
Tracker is such a complex man, one who loves the club fiercely, takes people into his circle and would defend them to the end.
But he also would end anyone that crossed him in a traitorous way, and has done that to clean up the club, so we all have a decent place to call home.
We would all die for him without thinking twice about it.
He is the one who holds everything together with bravery, honor, and strength.
He’s a brother in every way you can imagine, but he’s got this thing at the moment about Ayla saying his name before Finger’s, and they have a bet running on who will win.
Black jeans, a black henley and my cut which is clean and sitting proudly on my body. I’ll not hide who I am or where I belong for anyone, and if that doesn’t suit Rory then we are not meant to be.
I pull up outside Rory’s house and stay straddled on the bike for a few moments.
I’m about to get off and head to her door when it opens, and she steps out looking fuckin’ hot.
She is wearing tight jeans, a yellow top and a black leather jacket, finished with Doc Marten boots. Yeah, she’s a biker's woman I reckon!
“Good evening, Truck. Is this okay?” Rory asks, pointing to her outfit.
“Perfect. Let’s get to the steakhouse and eat. My stomach thinks my throat's been cut. Climb on,” I lean forward, giving her space, but quickly ask. “Have you been on a bike before?”
“I have, years ago, mind you. I love it I have to admit, and I’ve been looking forward to riding tonight.”
Now, I don’t tell her that riding behind me is me making my claim. Some see it as choosing an old lady, but our club sees it as stamping our claim for everyone else to stay away from the woman I’m interested in. Everyone knows an old lady as they have a cut with ‘Property of’ on the back.
“Hold on, Rory,” I say with a huge smile on my face. She clings to me like a baby monkey, and I’ll tell you it feels great.
Parking the hog outside the steakhouse, I lay our helmets on the seat and grab her hand. I lead her inside and give my name to the server at the door.
“Okay, Mr. Whitestone, please follow me.”
Now, it’s a higher-end steakhouse, which I hadn’t realized as I’d not been here previously.
We are getting some looks from people because we look like the bikers that we are.
I don’t care, but I don’t want Rory to feel embarrassed.
I give two or three diners a nasty look, which has them looking down at their plates or anywhere but at us.
Rory giggles, but it is so low I nearly miss it. I hold out her chair as she sits before taking my own. “Are you okay, Rory?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. I’m amused at the looks we are getting.
We are in a steakhouse, not some top-tier restaurant.
People make themselves look like idiots,” Rory says all this loud enough for most of the dining area to hear.
I note many of them look away, or give Rory a nasty glare, which doesn’t bother her at all.
Yeah, she’s a biker’s woman but doesn’t know it–yet.
We place our order, noting the server was polite and shows no sign of worry that we are bikers.
I order a hickory-smoked steak with mushrooms, served with rice.
Rory orders grilled combo, which is steak and chicken marinated in a spicy garlic and herb butter.
She forgoes anything along with that which surprises me, but when she tells me she had a phase of not eating I understand why she’s choosing a smaller plate of food.
“How are things at the gas station?” Rory asks while we wait for our food.
“Good. We are opening on Tuesday of next week. Well, that is what we have planned, but you never know what can happen between now and then.”
Rory takes a sip of the soda that she had ordered, and I take a sip of the beer I ordered. It’s the only one I’ll have tonight. That is always the maximum I drink when driving.
“I passed by this morning, and the front of the station looks nice. You’ve all done a great job on the landscaping.
I know it wasn’t easy, but to only clean it up it has made a vast difference.
I don’t even think you need any more bushes or shrubs added,” Rory places her chin on her hand as she leans her elbow on the table.
I’m not sure she knows, but that has brought her significantly closer to me.
“We will keep it weed free, and the grass short, but apart from that we need nothing else. It’s a gas station, not a house yard,” I lean forward slightly, and it places us much closer.
“Here we are, your meals,” the server is standing with an amused look on her face. I’m sure she sees we were getting quite close to each other.
“Oh, thank you,” Rory quickly sits back, allowing her plate to be laid in front of her.
I give a nod of thanks and look at my meal, which looks appetizing. We eat quietly for a few minutes before I ask what could be the elephant in the room. “You are a widow, Rory, is that right?”
“I am.” Rory places her cutlery down and looks me square in the eye.
“I’m moving forward with my life. My husband always told me if he left me I had to live my life.
I’ve moved here and am starting a new chapter in my life, and I’m grateful that I was able to be Terrence’s wife for the short time that I was. I will always treasure that.”
“Was he sick?” I ask, trying to find out what actually happened without being too pushy about it.
Sighing, Rory takes up her fork but doesn’t spear any food, she looks up at me again. “Terrence had a heart condition, and we were waiting for him to have an operation. Sadly, his heart let him down before that happened.”
“I’m sorry for your loss, Rory.” I reach across the table and take her hand in mine, giving it a small squeeze of comfort. “He was obviously too young to die.”
We speak of her husband for a few minutes, and after she tells me a few things about him that were highly amusing, I tell her about Rum and my conversation with Cilla.
“You did not ask her to get a ghost to stuff Rum back into his body?” Rory giggles.
I chuckle, “I did, and Cilla told me they’ll practice as a just in case.”
“No! Oh my, that is too funny. I’m not sure I believe in ghosts, but your story is amusing.”
Knowing she’ll meet Cilla eventually, I chuckle. “You’ll meet Cilla eventually…”
Rory interrupts. “Oh, I’ve met Cilla. I liked her. But she'd best not tell me Terrence is talking to me, or I’ll lose my shit.”
I don’t inform her that Terrence has already reached out. I’ll let Cilla do her thing, if and when it’s needed.
The rest of the evening was spent smiling and enjoying each other's company.
When the evening ends, I leave Rory at her door. I make no effort to enter her home. But I lean toward her with my hands on the door, on each side of her head. Lean forward and hold my mouth an inch from her own. “Can I kiss you, Rory?”
“Yes,” she replies, and I don’t wait for her to change her mind.
I lower my mouth over hers, not fast, not hard, not demanding.
I tease her with my tongue until she opens enough to allow me entrance.
I can taste the meal she has just enjoyed, and the sweet noise she makes as she grips the front of my Henley.
I run my tongue over the entirety of her mouth, and I can’t describe the feeling that washes over me.
I pull back slightly, and am surprised when Rory nibbles my bottom lip, sucking it into her mouth. I smile at the sensation and feel her mouth smile, too.
Rory leans into me more, and I move my hands to one behind her head and one on her hip. I pull her gently into me but keep them from wandering even though I would like them to.
Pulling away, Rory looks at me and her eyes are misted. “That was a great kiss, Truck. Maybe we can have a next time.”
Before I can say anything, Rory quickly moves away from me, unlocks and opens the door before giving me a bright smile. “Night, Rory,” I grunt before she giggles and closes the door.