“The only fucker I truly hate is doing life upstate,” I growl out as I pop the top of my beer then take a long pull. “Other than any club enemies, of course. But as for our brothers, well, it’s more that a lot of them don’t realize how fucking lucky they’ve got it, you know? So many of us were raised under Paps’ tutelage, but not only that, a lot of them have awful histories. Seems to me, we’re a mixed bag of fucking misfits half the time, and it aggravates the fuck out of me when they act like they don’t appreciate just how good we’ve got it here.”
“Then maybe you need to bring that up in church at some point,” he points out. “Because I’ve noticed it myself, and while not everyone had a shit start, those who didn’t act like they have it worse than those who did get out of hell.”
“I’ll bring it up to Rio, see if he wants to roll it out to the brothers. We need to be on the same page if we’re about to get Sphinx here because a house divided will always fall,” I reply.
Not wanting to rehash my date any further, I motion for another beer then tap the top of the bar. “You headed up to bed?” BamBam asks.
“Yeah, still got to work tomorrow so I need to get my head down at some point,” I admit.
Plus, I want to be able to respond to Shelly’s text when it arrives and I don’t feel like listening to any shit from my brothers.
CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN
Shelly
The past twoweeks have flown by, and every single day, I find more things to like about Abyss. He brings me one of my frou-frou drinks every single morning, and despite my protests, he always has takeout delivered for lunch for the three of us, even though I’ve tried to tell him that I can bring my lunch. A lot of time, one of the three prospects brings it in, but lately it’s been a guy they call Mongrel.
I don’t really know a lot about how the Kings operate, or even how motorcycle clubs in general work, if I’m being totally honest. Livy’s been a godsend and a wealth of information for me, however, and she told me that when someone wants to become a full-patched member, they start out as a prospect, which is what Mongrel, Mutt, and Monkey are right now. After a period of time, which ranges from prospect to prospect but is usually no less than a year unless something extreme happens within the club, they get their bottom rocker, as well as all the perks of becoming a Kings brother.
I like Mongrel; he’s friendly and always offers to help whenever he comes to the shop. He’s the reason that we have new, updated storage shelves for the inventory room, since they needed replacing. What puts him at the top of my list of people I like is how he treats Buddy, the young man who works for the laundromat. Buddy has unique challenges, so sometimes it takes time for him to understand what he needs to do if he’s given a new task, and Mongrel doesn’t lose patience, even though I know he has had to repeat himself multiple times.
How do I know this? Well, Marge has become another confidant of sorts. I often take my lunch with her, sitting in the small office at the laundromat as we continue getting to know each other. Last weekend, I went with her to the cemetery so I could officially meet Angus and Carolina. I’ve seen pictures of her little ones and my heart breaks for her losses. In addition to my therapy sessions with Beth, I think talking with Marge is slowly healing me.
I find myself laughing and joking more, and I’m now on a mission to make Abyss laugh his ass off since I like how he sounds when he does. From what I understand, he is usually pretty stoic and somewhat stern around his brothers. For the most part, he’s laidback, but he doesn’t put up with any shit from anyone. I haven’t seen that side of him, however. But with the way he is with me, even if I do, I won’t be afraid or put off because he’s so damn protective it’s not funny.
Livy says that’s how these men are when they find their women. Her story thankfully had a happy ending, but even though she endured some heavy stuff herself, BamBam has given her a reason to keep moving forward. She says the best thing that ever happened was when he and Mongrel found her along a stretch of highway after she escaped from her ex, who sounds thoroughlyawful. It’s also getting easier to be around her son, Theo, and while I’ll never ever stop thinking about how old Amberlea would be or what she might be doing now, because I’m seeing Abyss, I can see a light at the end of the tunnel.
And for once, it’s not a fucking train bearing down on me.
Sighing, I straighten from where I’ve been crouched over a client’s back when I hear the bell over the door ring. “Can you give me a second? I need to see who’s walked in and get them checked in if they’re here for Mack or Abyss,” I ask my client.
“Works for me, I was gonna ask for a little break,” the guy admits. “Shading kills me,” he adds.
“Don’t I know it,” I reply as I stand, take off my gloves, then head out to the reception area. I stop in my tracks when I see it’s Gina and her expression is one I can’t decipher.
“Hey, Shelly, have you heard from Gretchen yet?” she asks when I reach her.
“No, have you?” I question.
“Nope, and I’m officially worried now. I mean, she’s been clean for sixteen years and is one of the recovery coaches for the substance program at the clinic. Even allowing that, maybe she went on vacation, but she wouldn’t take off more than a week at a time, and that makes no sense since she had booked a tattoo with you,” she says.
“Can you… can you file a police report?” I query. I don’t know what the process is, but it would seem that would be the next step.
“I did, but they said she’s an adult so there’s not a lot of things they can do. They’ll talk to her boss and coworkers to see ifthey’ve heard from her, but outside of that, their hands are tied,” Gina states. “But I’ve known her for a long time, we went to high school together, and this isnotlike her at all. I mean, I’m not gonna share her story since it’s hers to tell, but she took her sobriety seriously and went to college to get her degree as a social worker. She now works as a recovery coach like I said, and even still, after all these years, she’s a regular at meetings.”
“Maybe I can see if Abyss can help,” I murmur, almost to myself.
“Would you? Please?” Gina asks. “The Kings own this town and maybe they have resources that the cops don’t have as far as how to find her.”
I’m pretty sure they do, but I don’t say that out loud. Instead, I say, “Yeah, I’ll ask. Listen, I don’t mean to cut this short, but I’ve got a client in my chair.”
“Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” Gina says.
“Nope, this was important, Gina. If I find anything out, I’ll reach out and let you know.”
“Thanks, Shelly,” she replies.
