“Only if you’re sure. Vegas might clear your head,” she shrugs. She might be right, or I would have a horrible time knowing that people are dying and I’m down in Vegas partying instead of doing something about it.
“Are you almost ready to go, Flower?” Thrasher gives her a hand standing up.
“Of course I am! I can’t wait to see my brother and Sarah, oh and all the guys. It feels like it’s been forever!”
“Don’t be too excited to see all those ugly mugs,” Thrasher growls jealously.
“You’re the only one for me, Thrasher. They’re all just like brothers to me, you know that.” She kisses his cheek. “Come on, I want to make sure we have everything ready.”
“By having everything ready, do you mean getting in a quickie before we head out?” Boss asks, giving them a pointed look before laughing as he’s overly thrusting his hips.
We all chuckle as Delilah nods furiously behind Thrasher as he pulls her along. She doesn’t care that they all give her flack, joking with her like they would anyone else. I can only shake my head. One day Fate will have this clubhouse full of the guys’ old ladies and kids just as he’s always intended for it to be. That’s why the house has so many rooms and such a big living room. He wants it to be full of families one day.
“That woman has that man wrapped around her little finger,” Cash drawls, shaking his head as he covers the bags with a tarp in case they hit bad weather on the way out of town. With the way the clouds are rolling in, it’ll only be a matter of time.
“Oh, come on, Cash, you know you’re just jealous,” Bender teases as he helps him.
Bender is one of the newer prospects. He’s working under Boss until he’s fit for a cut. We found him just before we hit Vegas. He was about to have his ass kicked for being a rogue on another MC’s territory. He would’ve ended up dead for his lack of knowledge, and Fate dragged him along with us, taking him into the club without a second thought. He works hard to make sure he earns his keep. He’s on the younger side but weathered by a shady past and an itch to run from it.
“Damn right I am. A sweet little thing ready at a moment’s notice, must be nice.” He grins like an idiot as Wrath walks up, smacking him on the back of the head just as he ducks down to tighten up his straps.” Ow! You know we all want that, Wrath!”
“Just because we do doesn’t mean you get to talk about her like that,” Wrath says. He walks up the steps shaking his head before the left side of his face falls a bit when he looks at me. The left side is the only part of his face that moves. Even years later, we have no idea why and know not to ask.
“One of these days, you and I are going to sit down and have a come-to-Jesus meeting.” I can’t ask what he means because he walks away before I can. He knows something must be up for me to stay. He used to be a pastor at one point. He’s the most religious of us all, reminding us whenever he can that God is everywhere.
I have to disagree. God could’ve been with me and Raven, protecting us that night in the forest, but he didn’t. He left us there to die.
As the Vice President of the club, I don’t let Fate go a lot of places without me. I’m supposed to be there as his second-in-command if shit goes sideways or if he needs something done, so for him to be all the way in Vegas for an extended trip while I’m here is far from our regular routine. The guys know something is going on, besides a crazed lunatic killing people all over the West Coast that needs to be caught.
“He wants to ask you what the deal is, but won’t. He’s taking it personally that you haven’t sat down with him.” Fate must’ve walked out when I wasn’t paying attention. He takes Delilah’s spot on the bench, coffee in hand. Apparently, we are all having the type of morning that needs to be fueled with caffeine.
Generally, with a trip, his ass is ready the second he wakes up, barking orders and getting out as quickly as possible, but just like Wrath, he’s not liking that I’m staying behind. I know he will respect my choice whether he understands it or not. I’m tired of feeling like they are only hanging around to make sure I’m good.
“It’s none of his or his god’s damn business,” I mumble. Fate isn’t all that super religious. His religion extends to the club, his brothers, and motorcycles, but he respects the hell out of Wrath when he can get grown ass men in their feelings, not bottling up all their anger, and we definitely have that. We’re all bastards. We’re here because we know it.
“Eventually, Raven, you’re going to have to figure out a way to let it go.” I’m caught off guard. He usually isn’t so bothered by it or how I deal with it. And it’s easy for him to say. It sets me on edge he even spoke that out loud.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Fate? You found me. You saw what Brad did. I’d think you’d be the only motherfucker around here to get it.” Being his second in command, I’m more inclined to call him on his shit without repercussions, but this isn’t his shit. It’s mine, and he’s not one to question it usually.
“You’re lucky I don’t want to leave here with you all pissed off, so I’ll drop it for now, but when we get back, you and Wrath will have that talk. Come hell or high water, even if it means you get in there and box it out.” He quirks his pierced eyebrow at me.
“Whatever you say, Fate.” Why does everyone all of a sudden see it more? Or give a shit? They aren’t the ones carrying the baggage, dealing with the nightmares, and fighting off this demon. Only me. It was never a problem before with any of them. Why now?
“I think I need to leave someone behind with you.” He sees the look on my face and holds up a hand to stop me from arguing. “Not because you need help, but because we don’t leave one of our own behind, ever.”
“Stop, you aren’t leaving me behind. You’re going on vacation. We can’t all just go with the storm coming and the animals needing to be taken care of. I’m fine.”
I’m about to argue when Dexter comes out holding a long, lumpy duffel bag, clanking with every step as it smacks against his leg. He gives us a strange look as he walks it over to the truck and sets it down as carefully as possible. A small smile plays on his lips. Dexter must’ve been listening in on Thrasher and his lady again. He does that. Actually, most of the guys have at one point or another. I can’t say I blame them, but I’m not one for voyeurism, especially when it comes to a couple I have to see every day.
“What’s in the bag, Dexter?” Fate asks, shaking his head like a father dealing with a house full of children. I guess, in a way, he is.
“Just some… things….” He shrugs like it’s no big deal to take all his deadly treasures with him.
“You aren’t taking all your cleaning supplies. We won’t have anything for you to clean up.”
Cleaning supplies are tools that Dexter uses to dismember bodies and dispose of them. He’s the club’s cleaner. He’s the closest we’ve got to a full-blown psychopath, even in a house full of men that use various tools to take out the scum of the earth. He’s strange, but we’ve all seen a small glimpse of the man beneath all that if he ever feels like showing it. If he couldn’t handle his crazy and follow Fate’s rules about killing people, he wouldn’t be here.