Chapter 44 #2
While Flinch rants, Jude’s eyes turn to me. His arms are crossed over his cut, jaw locked. When our eyes make contact, they’re unreadable. Almost an apology or sadness.
With a curt, loud “Fuck no,” Jude storms back, murder on his face.
Jude wraps his arms around my waist and scowls at my drink. I try to pacify by taking a long sip and shooting him a pointed look over the rim, as if to say it’s a virgin margarita, then offer, “It’s fine if you need to go somewhere. The boys are going to have a blast running around.”
He pinches his lips. “It can wait.”
Braxton runs up to me, half knocking me down as he uses my legs to stop. It’s the first time I’ve seen him happy all weekend. “Mr. Solomon is gonna let me ride a pony.”
“Is he?” I ask with wonder in my voice.
“Will you come with me, Uncle Dude?”
Taking his hand, Jude says. “Of course. We can take pictures for your mom.”
With a killer smile, Braxton tells me, “The pony’s name is Easy Rider.”
I choke back a laugh. What other name would a biker give a pony? As uncle and nephew head back to the outbuilding, Jude places that steadying hand on Braxton’s shoulders. He is going to be an amazing father to our little one.
Presh is walking outside with an ice cream maker just as Odin, Folgers, and Mudbug are nailing down a roof tarp with lawn stakes.
“Did you get that out of my emergency box?” she demands. “You know just as well as I do that it’s peak hurricane season.”
Mudbug holds his hands up in surrender with a beer in one and a hammer in the other. He gives Presh an adorable lopsided grin, “I’ll replace it tomorrow, swear.”
She puts her hand on her hip, “These men. Those three will always find some mischief to get into. They’ve been like this since they were knee high.”
Mudbug enthusiastically squirts dish soap over the tarp, while Odin rests a hose down on one end. “They aren’t going to do what I think they are…”
Presh snorts. “You underestimate bikers. If there’s a good time to be had, they’re gonna find it.”
They add a second water hose with a sprinkler attachment farther down the tarp, and then their cuts start coming off.
Boots next. They’ve clearly planned whatever this is because Mudbug starts to blow up an extra-large rubber duck floatie with the help of Darcy’s sister.
I recognize her from the coffee shop. I search mentally for her name…
Delia. I remember now because it was so close to Delphine.
Every other time that I’ve seen Delia, which is often as we both come and go, she’s worn an ankle length denim skirt and elbow length top. I’d assumed it was for religious reasons, but today she’s wearing a pair of blue jeans that look new and a pretty floral top that’s see through in some places.
“You know Fern told me Delia was the prez’s sister-in-law but it didn’t click until just now that she’s your younger sister,” I tell Darcy.
“You haven’t exactly seen us together either,” Darcy answers. She leans forward as if telling me a secret, “I don’t know if anybody's mentioned my family yet, but it’s best not to ever mention seeing Delia at a club event or with me. Our parents are kinda… strict.”
“Okay,” I answer cautiously. I wouldn’t have anyway, because Jude’s basically told me not to discuss anything about the club, and I’ve put party attendance in that no go bubble.
“Our parents forbid us from seeing each other,” Darcy continues. “Of course, it probably doesn’t help that they blame me for Dad being in prison.”
Darcy’s mentioned her family is weird before, but what the actual fuck? “So you sneak to see one another whenever you can?”
“Yep. Sometimes more often than others.”
Even while talking, her attention stays focused on Odin.
He sits his bulging frame down inside the inflated duck first. With a running push from his brothers, he begins to glide down the length of the tarp.
The brothers crowd at the starting line, cheering Odin on until he makes a smooth landing on the other side, all without spilling the liquor in his plastic cup.
He throws his fists up in the air and whoops while Mudbug runs down to collect the duckie so someone else can have a turn.
Grinning like the devil, Odin struts up to Darcy and lays a big kiss on her lips while she’s still sitting down. “Have fun?” she asks with a laugh.
He has this twinkle in his eyes when he shrugs and says, “Someone’s gotta be the one to try it out. Who better to take the risk than the Prez?”
“So that’s how you convinced Mudbug to let you take the first go?” Darcy deduces.
With no shame, Odin answers, “Yup.”
She shakes her head in a way that somehow approves of his mischief.
With care so tender, Mudbug helps Delia into the duckie next. She goes sliding down the tarp much less gracefully than Odin, landing haphazardly at the end. Mudbug runs behind her, helping her stand at the other end. Her bottom is drenched with soapy water when she stands.
Muddy is one of my favorites of the brothers.
With a boyish charm, he has this energy that draws you into his orbit.
Especially women. There's nothing more alluring than a confident swagger. He has shoulder length hair of a rock god and a full beard that makes his baby blues even more prominent. He’s not my type, but I can certainly understand the appeal.
I often go for a quick breakfast or for an Italian cream soda at Hickory Chicory.
There’s a good chance Mudbug is in there, buried in his phone.
Delia’s visibly flustered, the shy woman unnerved at the presence of a hot biker.
While Mudbug gets a lot of shit for being a manwhore, he’s nothing but respectful to the women around him.
He’s leading Delia towards where the cars are parked.
“So it was fun?” he asks as they pass us.
“Yes, but now I have to wear your gym clothes for the rest of the day.”
“They’re clean!”
“Says you. I’ve seen your room at the compound. I’m not impressed,” Delia quips.
It’s strangely quiet for a moment until the next reveler speeds past us.
Watching them is much more entertaining than attempting the stunt myself, but the crowd of women around me thins as they all line up for a turn.
An old timer named Yogi tucks his grizzly beard into his shirt, then cruises down the blue plastic runner. He ends up crashing, face first into the grass. He stands up, red-faced, brushing himself off to the sound of feminine laughter.
“Well, that’s one way to stop,” I say. Looking around, I realize I’ve been left alone with Odin.
His attention is on Delia and Mudbug. They’re in front of the sunflower field, Delia changed into an oversized cotton tee and shorts.
She lifts up the hem of the top to knot it at her waist, showing off a line of her belly.
Mudbug scowls and adjusts the fabric so it hangs lower, covering more of her skin.
Odin’s face is hard. “Has anyone told you the story of the sunflowers?”
“No idea. I mean, they seemed a little out of place…”
“My dad planted them for my mom a long time ago. He keeps them now in her memory.”
“I’m sorry, I assumed your parents were divorced or something.”
“We don’t divorce. My mom died at the hands of a rival club. She caught a flat in enemy territory, while we were…when there was a lot of shit going down. A rival club found her. Dad keeps them in her memory, but also as a reminder for us to protect our women.”
“I’ve never even seen any other clubs around.”
“They stay on their turf, and we stick to ours.”
“I don’t understand how Solomon was at fault.”
“He thinks he should have kept her safe. Truth be told, I don’t blame Dad, but there’s no way I’d let Darcy drive off to God knows where without a bodyguard when things aren’t safe.”
“That’s sad.”
“It’s our world.”
Two figures appear on the horizon. Solomon is giving Aiden a piggyback ride, and Jude’s holding Braxton upside down, slung over his shoulder while tickling him.
Turning to Odin, I study his face carefully. Why is he telling me this? “I thought the club kept its secrets to itself.”
“They’re need to know, and this is one you should remember.”