Jaded: (Beautiful Biker MC Romance Series), page 34
She got off my lap and slipped inside.
I leaned over and kissed my mother’s cheek. “Thank you, Ma,” I whispered.
Ma looked into my eyes. “You need to get back and no way are we leaving our girl alone with that woman. But this could be a long haul, my boy.”
“Yeah,” I muttered.
“Any insurance to get her a nurse?”
“Dunno. See what I can find out from G.”
She patted my hand.
Gigi was back with her purse. “Thank you so much, Fern and Archer.” She hugged my mother.
“When she wakes up, I’ll introduce myself. Tell her I’m the nurse you hired.”
Gigi bit her lip. “She might see the family resemblance though.”
“Do not worry. I’ve got this. Go, you two. Take a breather.”
17
I was back in Aberdeen without my girl. But my mind was at ease because Ma and Delia had met while I was on my way back and shit was already organized to the degree she and Arch could leave, even Gigi could leave; Francie would still have help.
Several club hang-around women and old ladies had volunteered to help, so Delia was putting together a schedule. Security detail would be split between Arch and a prospect, then three prospects would rotate shifts next week when Arch left. I told my mother they could likely go, but she wouldn’t be talked out of staying for the week.
I’d go back down on the weekend, but as the garage was beyond busy, the boys were relieved to have me back. As expected due to the press on the weekend, business was booming and the garage had tune ups, oil changes, tire rotations, and other maintenance booked for weeks out. Just today alone, Spencer sold three new and one used motorcycle at the dealership. In the past week, the gear shop in the dealership sold almost half its inventory of hoodies, t-shirts, ball caps, and shit like that.
When I got back, I was surprised at how jam-packed the parking lot was for a weeknight. People were coming to Deke’s Roadhouse for burgers, wings, beers, pool or darts, to catch a game. The brothers’ tails were wagging because every night since the car wash and news coverage, there’d been tables of women dolled up lookin’ to get attention. Seeing wet, shirtless, tatted bikers on the news had certainly helped business.
The Roadhouse had been so busy the last few days, Ella was organizing a rush supply order to re-stock the kitchen’s inventory. This was all good news for the club, but I didn’t get any of that out when I called because Gigi was overwhelmed and babbled at me for fifteen minutes about all that’d happened there since I left.
It all started when I’d texted Rudy to ask for a room for Ma and Arch before she and I even left the trailer to go get a meal and within five minutes, I had Delia on the phone, demanding to be put on speaker so she could ream me and G out for not calling her sooner, demanding G’s and my mother’s phone numbers.
We had our food and then a quick fuck in my truck in the woods before I took her back and packed up to go.
Now, just a few hours later, my girl told me Delia stepped up in a big way. Delia even had a friend in home healthcare that was connecting Gigi with a social worker to get Francie approved for full-time nursing care.
Until that was organized, the club had it all looked after. Meals would be cooked and sent over. Gigi would have help with the cleaning. At night, someone could be there to deal with Francie’s nighttime needs if Gigi needed, so she could sleep. And she wouldn’t be left unprotected. A prospect would be on site to make sure nobody fucked with Gigi to get back at the club.
She could barely talk when she was telling me this stuff, bawling on the phone. And that pissed me off. Because I could tell that this girl had been shown so little kindness in her life that she couldn’t wrap her head around all this. And I wanted to be there and hold her tight through the tears.
Francie had slept for a good five hours straight but while we were on the phone, G heard her in the bathroom, so had to let me go, telling me she was going to surprise her aunt with the wig.
I said, “Don’t let her give you any shit about the help, baby. The help is needed.”
“I don’t know what to do with all this,” she’d admitted.
“Accept the help, knowin’ they’re paying it forward for all the shit you’ve done for the club.”
“I never gave this much, Jesse.”
“Disagree since your intel saved three lives, but beyond that, soak in the knowledge that people give a fuck and be prepared to pay it forward again when you can help out. That’s what the club, your club now too, is all about.”
“I miss you already.”
“I’ll be back on the weekend.”
I only hoped that her aunt wouldn’t keep biting the hands feeding her. I’d filled Ma in on the situation on the phone the night before, so I knew she’d make sure my girl wasn’t on the receiving end of a bunch of abuse. Between Fernanda and Delia, I knew she’d be okay without me the next few days.
“I’m gonna be busy with work the next while. Garage is slammed, but I’ll check in on lunch hours, at night. And if you need anything, call me,” I ordered.
“Jesse?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll call you in the morning.”
“Okay. Sweet dreams, baby,” she said, and it was loaded with emotion.
“Be a lot sweeter if my sheets smelled like you, hostage, but I’ll deal.”
“Did I say I miss you already?”
“Bye, baby.”
***
“Good you’re back,” Deke said when I got to the table for church. “Gonna be hoppin’ at the garage.”
“So I heard. Good news.”
“All good?” he asked.
“It will be,” I replied, “thanks to the club. Delia’s stepping up.”
“She’s a good woman,” Deke replied.
“The best,” I agreed.
A few more brothers came in, Scott coming in last and shutting the door. I hadn’t seen him since the car wash. He didn’t stay long that day and I never saw him at all at the afterparty. That, coupled with the look on his face now, was concerning.
“Hey,” I greeted.
Scott was typically smiling, joking, making eye contact in greeting, but not today. And his eyes were hard, his mouth was tight.
“Wanna grab a beer after this?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Another time.”
“Brothers, let’s get this done. First up: Fork’s got the floor,” Deke announced.
Our gazes all swung toward Fork, who advised, “Sarge and Kylo were seen today in town.”
The room went wired.
“Who’s Kylo?” Bront asked.
“Kylo used to be the Prez in Pierre,” Fork replied. “Before that, VP in Sioux Falls. He’s fresh outta the joint after doin’ a dime.”
“Where were they seen?” Brady asked.
“Across the street and a coupla doors over from your place.” Fork’s eyes were on Rider. “Apartment above that convenience store.”
“Fuck,” Rider clipped. “The meth dealer’s place?”
“Yup. Larsen’s tight with that shithead,” Fork replied. “Didn’t know Kylo made parole until today. And he’s tight with my old man. My contact has heard my old man’s name a bunch. Think he’s up in Saskatoon with Larsen’s old lady’s family.”
“Where’s the intel from?” Nico asked.
“Paige.”
“Who’s Paige?” Nolan asked.
“Wyld Jackals sweet butt, and save your questions for after church,” Deke advised. “Prospects don’t speak in church until the floor is opened.”
Nolan’s face went red. “My bad, Prez. Wasn’t even allowed in church in the mother charter.”
“I do things a little differently here. We’re a smaller chapter. But there’s still protocol. Make sure you’re educated.”
“Sorry, Prez.”
“Brontosaurus, Scooter, would you take Nolan and Bick for a beer and make sure they know all they need to know after we’re done here?”
“Got it, Prez,” Bront replied.
Scott wore a scowl on his face. “Yeah,” he muttered.
Deke did a double take, then leaned back in his seat, and eyes still aimed at Scott, asked, “All good there, brother?”
“Bullshit at home,” Scott muttered. “Sorry.”
“Right. Been there. But need your head in the game, yeah, Scoot?”
“Yeah, Prez. I’m here.”
“Good. So Fork… floor’s again yours.”
Fork straightened and his eyes scanned the room. “So, I’m about to be playin’ a little game of remorse. Larsen has sent me a couple texts, feelin’ me out. Askin’ if I’m happy with the patch-over. Askin’ if Deke’s pissed that they’re still wearing their patches in public. Pokin’. You know. Long game or it’ll be too obvious, but I’m gonna act unhappy about the moves I’ve made. Make him think I might be open to doin’ somethin’ on the side with him to make some extra money before I leave town for good with that windfall.”
“They’d fall for that?” Spencer asked.
“Long game. Know how to play ‘em. Won’t trust ‘em for a second but I’ll let ‘em think they’ll get somethin’ outta me. Trust won’t be formed; I know how these guys operate. It’ll be a game of chess. They don’t know I know how to play chess. Know I’m here but have no idea the time and effort I took to plan their downfall. Played it off like Uncle Rob recruited me and Deke scooped me up knowin’ I was unhappy, but that I didn’t do much to help otherwise and that now that I’m here, the grass ain’t greener.”
“They’ll slit your throat as soon as look at you, Chris,” Rob warned. “It’s a bad idea.”
“I’ll be cautious. Not many left with any brains in their heads. They’re down to just a few. Far’s I know, it’s Kiddo. Unc. Larsen. Kylo. Then there’s Sarge. Alec’s pullin’ some strings from inside, but mostly Sarge is in charge. He’s not stupid but he’s also not real savvy either. Nobody beyond that until they recruit or team up and Larsen, Kiddo, and Unc maybe share a half a dozen braincells between the three of ‘em.”
“Long game. Baby steps. Eyes open. Ears open. Always,” Deke put in. “Love to have ‘em gone sooner than later but rather we took our time, did it right and minimized losses.”
“A hundred per cent,” Fork agreed.
“So, boys, next month we’ve got to return a favor that was owed for help during the patch-over and what they’re asking for is likely a job for Deacon and Ride or Deacon and Jesse. Some assistance may be required from you, too, Pudge. And maybe Nico or Brontosaurus. It’ll be a few days away in a couple weeks and some time’ll need to be spent on planning on how to free a hostage, steal back some property, and return both to them.”
“What? That’s wild!” Nolan chirped.
Deke shot him a look.
Nolan pulled his lips tight, but looked excited.
“I’m slammed with this build Spency and me are workin’ on; that’s on top of the garage bein’ booked solid for the next three and a half weeks,” Ride said. “If Jesse can lead on this, it’d be good. I’ll help where I can. We need him at the garage during business hours as much as possible so good he’s back. Can this thing happen with Jesse and Deacon when the garage ain’t open?”
“Possibly,” Deke replied.
“I’m pretty good with a wrench,” Nolan piped up.
Spencer scoffed. “Yeah, so’s our teenage sister. Mouth shut during church, dumbass.”
“My bad.”
“Right,” Deke cut in. “That’s all I’ve got tonight. Deacon, Jesse, Ride, you three get together with me tomorrow. Come by my office after the garage closes and we’ll make a plan for that. Deacon’ll get with either Nico or Brontosaurus when the plan is finessed. Any new business?” Deke asked.
Nolan’s hand shot up like we were in a classroom.
Deke blew out a long breath, eyes on Nolan. Then Deke lit a smoke, eyes still on Nolan who wasn’t breaking eye contact, A drag. Exhale. Another drag, exhale through the nose. And still direct eye contact.
Nico cleared his throat and half-coughed, failing at trying to mask how fuckin’ funny he thought this was.
Nolan waited. Smiling. Hand still in the fuckin’ air.
Finally, Prez rolled his hand. “Out with it, prospect.”
“I wanted to put forth a motion that we let prospects talk during church.”
Some of us groaned but most of us busted up laughing.
Except Scott. He was still stone-faced.
Needless to say that though Nolan came to us after working for three months as a prospect in Sioux Falls, the guy was a mimbo if I ever saw one. He’d get the attention of the girls with his looks, and he was ex-military, young with only a couple years of service under his belt, but skilled with weapons, explosives, and had a way with all things outdoors. Nolan was eager to live the MC lifestyle and so far made no complaints about any of the dirty jobs he was handed. I had the feeling Rudy offered him up as a prank. And a way to get him out of his own hair.
“Denied,” Deke smacked the table with his gavel, then we all filed out, the last word on that matter being Little John threatening to give Nolan an atomic wedgie.
Some of the guys headed out the gates and to The Roadhouse. A few went up the stairs to the clubhouse and some headed out either on four wheels or two, but in groups.
I found myself at Gigi’s rust-bucket car. After I fished the keys out, I pulled it into one of the loading dock bays to get some light on it and gave it a look over. It’d never pass a safety inspection. She needed to send it to the scrapyard. Not sure the scrapyard would even want it.
Though, it didn’t matter. When she got back, after things settled, she could use my truck when she needed it. I was on my bike as my first preference anyway and didn’t need to drive to work while we lived here.
I fired off a text before I crashed for the night.
Me: Things ok? About to crash here.
G: Things are ok. I’m itching to play my guitar but can’t do it here. She hates it. So I’m gonna write for a bit and then sleep. I miss you already.
I put my phone down on the dresser beside stacks of her clothes that she didn’t take with her.
My phone pinged again.
G: BTW, when Aunt Francie woke up, your mom handled her masterfully, giving her the lowdown on the plan for the next week while the social worker is working on getting home care arranged.
Me: Fernanda knows how to handle difficult people. She raised me, after all.
G: LOL. She did a good job. Night Jesse. Xoxo
Me: Night baby.
G: Oh. I gave her the wig. No tears of joy but I think she was pretty surprised. I think it made her feel a little guilty about saying she didn’t like my new haircut. Good night.
I put my phone down and flicked the light out as I pressed the button on the remote. She’d already gotten me into the habit of watching TV for a bit before crashing. There was a spare TV kickin’ around so Deke’d already told me to keep this one.
Ten minutes later, my phone dinged again.
Chantelle: Hey. Busy? Feeling like some company if you’re interested. Haven’t seen you in a while.
Time to end that. It was casual enough it didn’t need to be a big deal. Hadn’t seen her in weeks, but it didn’t feel right ending it by text. Not only because she was friends with a bunch of the girls that worked for Ma and Arch. Also because she was a decent person. It’d been all physical with us, never anything deeper than that, but I liked Chantelle. Not to mention she’d done a few favors for the club.
Me: Busy. Working tomorrow?
Chantelle: Unfortunately.
Me: I’ll pop by the bar.
Chantelle: Or you can meet me at my place at 2 instead.
Me: Can’t. Need to chat with you though. What time do you get your break?
I was about to put the phone down and crash after a good five minutes without a reply, when the phone chimed again.
Chantelle: Time to give me the brush off? Do it now so I don’t overthink for 24 hours.
Shit.
Well, she opened the can over text, so might as well spill the beans. But I phoned instead of texting back.
“Hey,” she greeted softly.
“I met someone.”
“Kinda figured.”
“It’s serious.”
She sighed. “If I’d known you were up for serious, I’d have thrown my hat in the ring.”
What did I say to that? I didn’t want to reply with something that might sting.
“Didn’t see it comin’,” I said.
“Ah.”
The line was silent for a second. And I didn’t want to be a dick, but didn’t need this to feel like a breakup. It wasn’t a relationship.
“I gotta go,” I said. “It’s been a slice, babe.”
“Hope she makes you happy. In case she doesn’t, don’t lose my number.”
“Take care of yourself, Chantelle.”
“You too,” she said with sadness in her voice.
***
It was a few days later and I was in the garage, replacing an alternator, when I heard the steady clicking of a set of high heels moving in my direction.
I peered around the hood of the car.
Sara Ford was strutting in my direction, all vamped out in a little black dress, sky-high heels, smoky eyes, and dark red lipstick.
“Jesse,” she greeted.
“You need your car fixed?” I asked, wiping my hands on a rag.
Deacon and Ride had quit for the day, and I’d do the same when this job was done.
“No.”
“Then I’m thinkin’ you don’t need to be here,” I replied and put my head back into the hood, dismissing her.
“My man loves the biker life. I’m guessin’ you do, too. Riding. Living life with little to no rules.”
“Your point?” I asked, straightening again.
“He made vows to me, and he broke them.”
“That’s got nothin’ to do with me.”
“He gets weak when he’s all liquored up. We’re in marriage counseling about it.”
