“You’re a lucky son-of-a-bitch I like you, asshole, or I’d have Koko eat you. As for the reason I kept my head shaved...I lost a bet with my cousin Jedidiah. I don’t welch on bets. Now, anything else you want to bitch about, or you done?” T-Rex worked his jaw like he had more to say but was holding back.
“You have a cousin named Jedidiah?”
T-Rex lifted his right hand, flipped King the bird. “Jed is an asshole, but he’s my cousin on my dad’s side. There’s lots of things to be said about them boys, but I guarandamntee ya one of them isn’t that they’re stupid or lazy. Every six months like clockwork, they showed up to inspect my chrome dome, as you put it. I was finally able to beat the little fucker at his own game, and now he’s the one sporting a chrome dome. You’d have thought I cut his dick off the way he wailed as soon as I turned the clippers on and made that first swipe. The yowl was funny as fuck, and I have no regrets for taking his stupid ass mullet right off. Mullets are not coming back, I told him.”
Ayesha lost any semblance of control, laughing so hard she bent in half. “I can’t. Make him stop.”
Mick shook his head, his own smile he covered by taking a drink from the water bottle he held.
After a few more minutes, Ayesha escaped into the salon next to the tattoo shop. They settled back down, playing dice in the parking lot. He looked up as two men walked by with crossbows hanging from their hands. He’d seen the building down the street with an indoor target range. The two men paused by the bikes, then looked over at them. The saying about a bunch of crows being a murder was probably an appropriate analogy when people looked at them. A group of bikers gathered around, shooting dice in a parking lot had to look suspicious. He wouldn’t be surprised if the cops didn’t roll up on them and ask to see their IDs and shit.
He and King both stood at the same time, just as he saw a black SUV driving by way too slowly across the parking lot adjacent to them. Mick yelled at King to get down pushing the prez with one arm, reaching for the crossbow within arm’s reach of him. He shoved the man down and hopefully out of danger too. At the same time, he had an arrow up and let it fly before the vehicle was lined up with them. Best case scenario, he shot an arrow through the tire of some stupid bastards’ car he’d have to apologize for. Worst case scenario...they had an automatic weapon, and he shot the tire out of the motherfucker’s tire before they got a good shot at King. Like bringing a knife to a gun fight, but you worked with what you had.
The crossbow had three arrows ready to fire. After the first shot took out the back tire, the car swerved, the front window came down, and like he’d suspected, a gun came out. He didn’t think, didn’t pause, taking aim with the next arrow. The whine of the bow was familiar, yet it had been years since he’d shot one. The third arrow went next, hitting the shooter. His mind didn’t register the sound of the bullets being fired, nor did he realize he’d tossed the first crossbow and snagged the second from the kid who’d dropped by the downed man. He ran toward the vehicle. Fire blazed across his thigh as he aimed at the fleeing car, shooting for the tire. A hand on his arm brought him around, fist raised.
“Whoa, Robin Hood, chill.” T-Rex held up his hands.
Mick dropped his hands, the heavy weight of the weapon had him looking downward then at the street. “Fuck, they got away. You get the plates?”
“There weren’t any on it. What the hell, man? You an archer or what?” Keys asked, coming up next to them, a gun in hand.
Mick looked back to the two men who had been casually walking by. “Fuck, I stole their shit,” he laughed and held the crossbow up.
“Pretty sure the one dude said you could have his, and the other might’ve shit himself when the bullets started flying. He’s probably thinking the same thing. We need to get your leg looked at.” T-Rex motioned downward.
Mick stared at his leg, realizing the fire was from a bullet that had grazed him. “Nah, I’m good. Just a flesh wound. Here, hold this for a second.” He handed the weapon to a startled T-Rex, pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, then tied it around his thigh. No way in hell was he going to the damn hospital for a little scratch.
They walked back over to where King and the men were standing, all eyes trained on him like he was an alien or something. “Hey, sorry I borrowed your—uh bows. I’ll pay to replace them.” He reached for his wallet.
“I already took care of it, brother.” King nodded at the wad of cash in each man’s hand.
“Here you go. Sorry I shoved you down. You two alright?”
“Will you shut the fuck up and let the two men have some pride while they walk away, man. Go on, you got my number if you need anything.” King waved his hand in a dismissive way the two men didn’t think twice to disobey.
Traeger chuckled before continuing. “We need to get the fuck out of the open like this, brothers. That was a straight up attempt on King’s life. Again.”
“Yeah, well, Archer here saved me.” King clapped one big palm on Mick’s shoulder. “Did you hear what I said. You saved my fucking life. That means something.”
Mick rested one hand on King’s bicep and looked around at the other men. “I’m still not sucking nobody’s dick, brothers.”
The mention of how he’d come to stay as one of their prospects, even after Groot had been kicked out, had them all chuckling. King didn’t release him, though. The Prez palmed the back of Mick’s head and knocked their foreheads together. Nobody talked about what had happened to Groot, or who had killed him. Ayesha might’ve been the one, or King. It didn’t matter because if you betrayed the club, you were dead. If you attempted to kill the Prez’ ole’ lady, you were lucky if all that happened to you was death.
“Today, I could’ve fucking died, and my ole’ lady and kid would’ve had to bury me. But you and your skills with that bow and arrow—you saved me. I won’t forget that, ever. Traeger, go in and stay with Ayesha inside the salon. T-Rex, go see how much longer Tiana’s gonna be. Keys, find out who the fuck is trying to kill me. They came for me, but now I’m coming for them.”
Chapter Three
Mick rode behind the others, wondering what the fuck just happened. He’d only done what any of the others would’ve if they’d been given a chance. He wasn’t a hero dammit, unless they were talking like Deadpool or something.
Having Traeger at his back meant they still didn’t trust him completely to protect them, so that made him feel marginally better. He wasn’t a full-fledged member, he got it. Fucking hell though, he was sick of always being less than. If he hadn’t been on an important ride and didn’t respect the hell out of King and the others, he’d split off and just—ride. “Yeah, just like you did all those years ago, and never looked back. Only this time you ain’t got the Navy to run to.” Hearing his own voice whipping through the wind didn’t make him feel any better, but at least nobody else had to hear him be a little crybaby bitch.
Traeger’s bike pulled up next to him. The big bastard’s hand raised next to his ear and pointed. Fucking-A, Mick had forgotten to put his earbud in after they left the tattoo shop. He lifted his hand off the handlebar and dug into his right pocket, grabbing the small bud out, hoping like hell the damn thing didn’t go flying off in the wind. King had offered to get him a helmet with a mic, but he didn’t want to accept a handout from the club if he wasn’t going to be accepted as one of them. Being a prospect was like being a second-class citizen. He knew what that was like. Kind of. He’d gotten the hell off the mountain before he’d actually been subjected to the daily lashings of that fate.