The enforcer stopped in his tracks and arched a menacing brow.
The guy might mutter more words today than he once did, but he still carried a dark aura that warned people to stay the fuck away.
Luckily for Ruin, Splice was illiterate in aura reading, so he looped an arm around the enforcer’s shoulder, feeling him stiffen, but it was progress that Ruin didn’t snap his neck.
“It’s my mom’s birthday. Do you think you could let me swing by your place so she can meet Rory? She’s a massive fan.”
Miracles happened when Ruin married the biggest pop star in the country. Rory Kidd was a sweetheart, and though Splice still didn’t understand how they worked, they did. Ruin was obsessed with his old lady—not just because her agoraphobia kept her away from the clubhouse, but because she’d brought their enforcer back to life and eased Reno’s worries about his twin. For that reason, the entire club was grateful to Rory.
Splice half-smiled as he saw the immediate “fuck no” in Ruin’s bottomless eyes.
Ruin rarely allowed visitors into his home, except for Reno and the old ladies’ gang. He protected Rory’s safe space, making sure no one made her feel uneasy.
Reno tapped Ruin on his other shoulder and spoke first. The twins exchanged a look, and Splice was amazed by how alike they acted.
“Tammie is good people, brother, and Rory enjoys meeting her fans.”
“Big fan, Ruin,” Splice interjected, hoping to seal the deal. He would be the son of the year if he could persuade the enforcer. His younger brother, Bart, lived in Canada and sent only gift cards and flowers, so meeting her favorite singer would push Splice into First Son position for sure.
Naturally, his gift wasselfless.
“It’ll be a quick meeting.” He explained. “Just saying hi and getting a photo together.”
Ruin rumbled a noise but said nothing as his feet carried him into the main area.
“I’ll check with Aurora.” He finally said, and Reno shot a sly thumbs-up Splice’s way.
After a phone call, Ruin told Splice to come by their house at six that night.
“Yo, Splice. Your uncle just pulled up outside.” Called out the probie, Forger, mopping his motor-oil hands with a cloth as he strode through the opened double doors.
Changing his direction, Splice headed outside in time to see his uncle climbing down from his red F-150.
Vince Gold, his dad’s older brother, had been hanging around the MC for as long as Splice, but he wasn’t actually a member. He wasn’t into the MC patch, but his uncle had worked with Axel a bunch over the years, and they both made out pretty well. He was sort of an honorary guest, and everyone liked Vince.
Splice’s steps closed the distance between them, and the two men gave each other a half-hug.
The wiry man said, “Haven’t seen you in a while, my boy. Not in trouble, are you?”
Splice laughed. The same shit the old man said each time he saw him.
When Splice’s dad was untimely killed in an unsolved mugging, Vince stepped in to be a father figure to the Gold brothers, dealing with a lot of grief and anger.
There was nothing he wouldn’t do for his uncle.
“No trouble this week. How about you? How’s the dealership?”
“You know me, kid, I like to keep busy. I’m actually gonna be out of town for a few weeks, traveling to look at some new stock.”
Decades ago, the Gold brothers built their car dealership from scratch. Now it was the biggest dealership in the entire state of Utah.
“I was sorry I couldn’t make it to Dodger’s funeral. I hear it was lively.”
Splice reached into his pocket to unwrap a hard candy, throwing it into his mouth; he sucked the sweetness, then stored it in his cheek.
“If he were alive, he would have loved it, put it that way.”
Vince was almost as tall as Splice’s six-foot-three and looked a helluva lot like his dad, which was always jarring, even today.
