Hyde: Northern Grizzlies MC Next Generation Book 1, page 2
“There’s no one I’d rather throw in the air and catch a couple dozen times,” I answer, trying to keep the smile from my face. “I gotta take off though.”
Tonight, Wrench and I planned on running an update to add a VPN into the systems for all the MC’s side businesses. I’ve never done anything of this scale and can’t wait to shadow my mentor.
“We’ll see you next week for dinner,” Riley calls out, waving good-bye.
“Unless you pop!” I yell back over my shoulder, hearing Gunner laugh and Leslee chanting, “Pop. Pop. Pop.”
Chapter 2
Gunner
I got one thing right in my life.
Riley.
Putting aside everything my life had become, to be the man she needed made all the difference.
As I’m shoved out of the delivery room and she’s rushed down the hall to be cared for, I fall to my knees.
I’d die without her, is the first thought through my mind.
But that’s the old me, the selfish bastard.
I’d never leave our daughter alone or allow her to grow up without the love of a parent. Staring down the hallway in the direction the attendants took Riley, I brace myself against the wall, forcing my legs to hold my weight and turn to head the opposite direction.
Our sweet angel, Leslee, is with the others and I need to hold her while I wait for word on Riley and our son.
Pushing through the doors into the full waiting room, my nostrils flare and no one says a word. My gaze spans the room until Connal steps aside and I see my sleeping daughter curled up in Charlie’s arms.
Reaching for her, Charlie stands and gently transfers her to me, and I clutch my darling girl to my heart as I slide into a seat.
“Aunt Tabby’s gonna take good care of them, sweet angel. They’re going to be alright.” My voice is barely above a whisper as I make that promise to my girl and give as much information as I can to my brothers and their families.
“Too loud, Daddy. I’m tired,” Leslee mumbles. I hold her tighter, wanting to protect her from every scrape and ding she’ll get in this life even as I sit here terrified and nearly shaking in fear for Riley.
“Charlie? Can you take her to Gram’s? And stay with them?” I ask a few minutes later. I’ve been inhaling Leslee’s sweet scent after I decided that if the worst were to happen, I’m not sure I could function as her dad in the hours following. Looking around, I pick out their guards. “Hyde and Anvil, you stay with them.”
Anvil is older than Hyde, but Joe’s been around us longer and if Leslee wakes up agitated, he has the best chance of calming her down.
Watching them head out, I almost follow them, craving a smoke break to pull my shit together. Shaking off one of my last bad habits, I start to pace instead, terrified that something will happen if I stepped away—even for a moment.
It feels like days, but I doubt it was more than an hour or so when Tabby walks through the swinging door. She immediately gives me a nod, not fucking around since she knows how completely I love Riley.
My head suddenly feels like it’s spinning and I grab the firm counter of the reception desk to steady myself. When my vision clears again, Jake is standing immediately to my right and Russian is at my back, just as I catch the tail end of Tabby asking me if I’m alright.
“Riley’s alive?” I ask, confirming what her nod meant, yet too scared to ask about our son.
“Yes, although I’ll be keeping her under observation for a few days. Your son has been cleaned up and is ready to meet you,” she immediately informs me. I nod to my brothers as they, collectively, yell their relief and congratulations, before following our doctor.
“Riley will not be able to have any more children, Gunner. I know you saw it when she passed out, but I almost lost her on the table,” Tabby informs me when we’re past the restricted area, reaching out for my arm to slow me down. And I know she wants a moment to fill me in, but I just need to see my wife with my own eyes.
“I’ll get snipped tomorrow, Doctor. What room is she in?” I’m looking at all the whiteboards outside the rooms we’re passing and getting more frustrated by the second.
“Down here, I told Mike I’d be staying with her tonight. I’ll be right across the hall from her room if you need anything,” she tells me, finally stopping at a room and pointing to the door opposite, this one has a sign that reads Staff Only.
“Thank you,” I say, my voice choking up as I turn and give her a quick hug.
“Anything that worries you, wake me. I have set alarms to check on her every two hours,” she assures me and that’s the first time I notice the bags under her eyes.
Entering Riley’s room, there’s a nurse off to the side. She has a clipboard in her hand, but seems more focused on my wife and child than the monitors in front of her.
“Hey,” Riley lets the word out on an exhale, her exhaustion written clearly across her face even as she leans down to whisper to the bundle in her arms. “Daddy’s here.”
“I love you so much,” I tell her, leaning down to cup her cheeks in my hands as I take in her unnaturally pale complexion. Placing my lips against her forehead for a long moment, when I pull back her eyes flick from me to the nurse and I look over my shoulder to see the pointed look the lady is giving my wife.
“I’m not supposed to hold him yet. Tabby said nothing over five pounds until she clears me,” Riley confesses, shifting him so I can take our boy from her. “I annoyed Tessie until she laid him on my chest, but I swore I’d give him to you the moment you arrived.”
“That explains why she’s watching you like a hawk,” I tease Riley when I take the little bundle before giving the nurse a smile and nod. “Thank you, I promise I won’t let my wife lift a finger.”
Tessie quietly excuses herself and I look down to study our son.
“Since you don’t want him named Alexander for you, what do you think about Xander?” Riley asks just as I feel him let out a little hiccup.
She’s been campaigning to name him after me ever since we found out we were having a boy and even though her grandmother is the only one left alive who calls me Alex, the thought of another generation carrying my birth father’s name left a bad taste in my mouth. I don’t know why we never considered this alternative before, but it’s just different enough that I actually like it. Really, I’d give into Alexander for her at his point, regardless.
“What do you think about Xander Riley Sorenson?” I ask her, keeping my eyes glued to him, fascinated by his every wiggle. “You did all the work, after all.”
Her gorgeous smile relays her feelings on the matter and Xander’s eyes pop open as if he agrees. As agreed, Bree and Jasper are the only visitors who come back to pay their regards, but other than that I hold him the rest of the night.
We have a lot to talk about. He needs to know how amazing his mother is, that he has a spitfire of a sister waiting to meet him, and about the larger family he was born into.
When I run out of things to tell him, I simply give thanks for Riley’s life and the family we have.
Chapter 3
Hyde
“I think it could be a real good chance for me, and I’ve never traveled much so that’ll be a plus also,” I explain to Jasper, Russian, and Gunner as we sit around Gunner’s living room.
Taking Wrench’s advice, I sit back to read the room before I continue, but damn, even in my thirties now, somedays it’s hard not to still feel like a kid around these men.
There’s an opportunity for me to go, more or less, nomad. I’m basing my plan on what Wrench did years ago, working as a security technology consultant for motorcycle clubs, before he settled here.
The way I have it planned out, each chapter would pay me, and I’d still funnel a part of that back here.
When I was nineteen, I enlisted in the Marines. Besides the opportunity to really learn how to fight, I figured it was a sure-fire way to see more of the world.
Fate had other plans though, and on the way to basic training I had the bad luck to run into a pile-up during a white out. When I woke up a few weeks later, Bree was by my side and stayed there as I slowly came to terms with the severity of my injuries.
The military said, thanks but no thanks, and my rehab started.
I have no tangent memories of my birth mother; they’ve all been replaced by Bree. There were countless days, she comforted me when I broke down, barely able to stand on my own two feet. Then there were the days, where she relentlessly demanded that I take two more steps, and two more after that, as I struggled through the rehab process and learned to walk again.
Although I cried and lashed out at everyone because of the pain I was in, it was the times when I woke up and caught Bree silently crying that ripped my heart out. I knew her well enough to know she’d be mortified at being caught crying.
The first time I saw her tears, I remembered thinking, What does she have to cry about? I’m the one suffering.
Through no one’s fault, I developed sores on my feet, making rehab particularly difficult and one day, at my absolute lowest point, I took it out on her. Gunner witnessed the worst of it and put an end to my rant. The next morning, I woke up to Flint in my room, instead of my adopted mother.
He explained, in excruciating detail, the length that Bree had gone to, to stop the doctor from removing part of my left leg after the accident. I thought I was already as low as I could possibly sink, but from that day forward, I took my lumps as they came.
The way I saw it, every day I woke up faced with a choice: fight or cave into my demons during the bad times. For a while, there were still more painful days than good ones, but I made a conscious decision to be grateful for what I had.
I had parents who loved me, besides a larger, crazy family, made of Northern Grizzlies; as evidenced by the food the Ol’ Ladies would send for me and the pictures some of the kids would draw.
Flint’s little ‘come to Jesus’ talk with me that day, helped to change my attitude, and from there, every baby step seemed like a leap.
Once I got to the point I could at least drive again, I had another choice to make. Becoming a mechanic or shadowing Wrench, with the expectation that I’d enroll in an Information System course. I was still physically exhausted most days, so I chose the latter.
By this stage of my life, a few of my brothers that I had patched in with have started settling down with women they’ve met here and there. Personally, I haven’t found anyone I can tolerate for longer than a few hours. I thought I had once, but that was all a lie.
I figure, I might as well see the country before I’m too old to enjoy it.
“Our plan has always been for you to take over Wrench’s position,” Jasper tells me when I let the silence drag on. This was an issue I was prepared to hear and one I need to tread carefully with. “Or one of ours.”
“I will, I mean, I want that, too. This is my home. One hundred percent. But I don’t want to get to Wrench’s age and never have gone anywhere but on runs to a handful of places. I’ve talked to Silver about his time as a Nomad, and I think that getting out into the world and learning how others think will bring more value to us in the long run.”
“He’s not wrong,” Russian concurs with a faraway look in his eyes.
“What Flint, and every one of you, did for me—taking me in, giving me a place, that isn’t something I’d ever forget or betray.” I repeat what I said earlier.
Gunner’s been silent this past half hour and just as he opens his mouth, the front door is flung open, and Leslee runs in. Seeing us, she races toward her dad—and we can’t help but notice her tear-streaked face.
“I hate it there and I’m never going back, Daddy!”
Gunner stands up so quick, his chair crashes against the wall behind him; as expected, he’s more interested in catching her in his arms than his surroundings. “What is it, angel? You don’t have to. What the hell? Go where?”
“I’ve had it with them!” The anger in Riley’s voice is as tangible as the pain on Leslee’s face. Riley and their son, Xander, have entered in Leslee’s wake. “They suspended Leslee and I got so pissed I yanked Xander out of his school, also.”
Leslee is wrapped in Gunner’s arms, but her tear-filled amber eyes are locked onto my darker eyes, making me realize I’ve risen and fisted my own hands. I’m ready to go to battle at Gunner’s say-so.
“Can we back up a little?” Jasper calmly asks. “What happened, Le-Lee?” If it weren’t for her ragged breath, I’d smile at the nickname that one of his kids bestowed on her.
“Dustin Tapher reached around me and grabbed my boob in pre-cal, so I swung my textbook at him and broke his nose. We have to sit alphabetically in that class so we were surrounded by all of his asshat friends, and no one would admit that I was defending myself.” Leslee’s voice is strained, the red streaks around her neck highlight how pale her face is as she tells us what happened.
“I’ll fucking kill him!” Gunner growls and Xander’s mouth slants into a smile that gives even me the chills. It’s hard to remember he’s ten, considering he’s taller than his mom and sister.
“Let me do it,” I volunteer, shrugging when Gunner and Jasper turn to look at me. “A parting gift.”
“How old is the kid?” Russian asks, thinking about what we can get away with considering he’s got to be a minor if he’s in Leslee’s class.
“Old enough not to touch our daughter.” Riley’s answer mirrors what I’m thinking, and I’m pleased she’s out for blood. I fucking love how this family switches from the Cleavers to the Mansons in a snap.
“He’s a junior,” Leslee responds, and it takes me a second to remember that she tested out of the lower-level math classes. “Wait… Parting gift?”
Leslee looks at me, shaking her head as tears start to flow over her eyelids again. Whatever she sees in my face has her pulling away from her dad and scrambling over the coffee table to me. “You’re not going, Joey! No.”
Throwing her arms around my waist, I grimace and put my hands on her shoulders. “Nothing’s decided yet,” I say, trying to calm her down as I look from Jasper to Russian, and finally, Gunner.
He’s the only one not looking at me and I’m grateful that the thunderous expression on his face is meant for a high school boy and not me. Gunner stays frozen, staring at his daughter’s back with his brows knitted together, until he finally lifts his gaze and gives me a nod.
I grin before looking to Jasper for approval and get a nod from him, also.
They’re not just giving me permission to get out and see the world a bit; no, I just got carte blanche to teach this Dustin fuckwad a lesson.
In the next couple of days, I start putting the word out with other Northern Grizzlies charters and motorcycle clubs we’re friendly with. A handful of them come back with requests that I review what systems they have in place, with the promise of a job if I find holes in their set-ups.
With the constant cycle of new couples and babies being born, I’m able to quickly rent out my small two-bedroom house. That takes care of one order of business before I leave.
The other is Dustin Tapher. I grin to myself, going over my plan for him in my head again. He’s going to think twice before he ever touches another girl.
Flint and Bree offer me the use of their smallest bedroom to store what few things I have that I want to keep. And as my time in Rowansville winds down, dinners with them become brutal. Bree keeps finding a reason to go out to the kitchen to wipe her tears away, not wanting me to see her cry.
“Molly, you gotta come to dinner tomorrow night!” I plead with her, getting my hand slapped when I unconsciously try to stick a finger in the batter she’s working on. “Ma’s calling it The Last Supper, for crying out loud.”
“I swear, you’re as bad as my kids,” she huffs, unable to keep the grin off her face.
“Come on, sis.” I throw that endearment in for good measure, as I try to keep her focused on my request.
Granted I was adopted into the family, but I’ve known Bree and her father longer than she has. That, and from the moment she found out that Flint is her biological father, she did assume the role of sister to me. “Ma practically bursts out crying every time she looks at me. If you, Royce, and your monsters are there, she’ll be distracted.”
“Overlooking the fact that you call your niblings, monsters, Bree does want time with you before you hit the road,” she says as she fills a cake mold, then slides the bowl with some leftover batter down the counter to me.
“Is that a cock?” I ask, tilting my head to get a better look at the mold as I start to swipe my finger through the delicious mixture.
“I know you’ve seen the tits version of this at the clubhouse, why are you surprised I also make dick cakes?” Molly counters, raising an eyebrow in my direction.
“That’s a perfectly valid argument,” I sagely nod my head, imitating Flint. “You don’t happen to make, y’know, um, kitty cakes, do you?”
She lets out a quick laugh before growing thoughtful. “Actually, I bet Riley could make a mold with her 3D printer and including the legs, it would serve more people than the woman’s chest does.”
“I was kidding,” I insist, but the look in her eye doesn’t go away. “Okay, just don’t make it red velvet.”
“You’re disgusting,” she groans, snapping her dish towel at me. “You let Bree know and I’ll round up my monsters for dinner tomorrow.”
“You’re the best! Love you. Gotta be somewhere,” I respond. Putting the bowl in the sink, I fill it with water before giving her a kiss on the cheek and head for the back door. “Oh, will you make your brownies for us?”
Apparently I shut the door just in time, there’s a thunk of something hitting it accompanied by a growl. I don’t even know why she and Flint needed a blood test, just that growl is enough to know who fathered her.
*
On beautiful fall days like today, the football players tend to go from practice down to the river. And coming off of last weekend’s win, they should all be out there. Except for Dustin.
