Page 32 of Property of Doc

He grips me by the hips and starts powering upward while pulling me down while grinning wickedly. “I’d say it’s a draw,” he whispers. “Now, kiss me, baby, so I can swallow the screams you’re about to emit.”

“So, so confident of yourself, aren’t you?” I whisper against his lips just as my body explodes into a million fragments of sheer pleasure. True to his word, he swallows my screams and moans, even though we’re alone at the clinic right now. When he stills, I know he’s found his own release, and I grin like the cat who caught the canary.

“Yeah, sweetheart, I am,” he finally says, smirking at me. He smacks the side of my ass and states, “Need to get up and get cleaned up now, though. My phone’s been buzzing so I’m sure it’s Rio wanting to know when we’re coming back.”

“Shit! I’m going to… everyone’s gonna know!” I exclaim as I gingerly climb off his lap and waddle walk to his private bathroom to clean myself up.

“Not unless you tell them,” he replies.

“Whatever,” I huff out.

I somehow manage to put myself back together before we head back to the clubhouse, and I’ll only admit to turning four shades of red when Issy winked at me.

CHAPTER

EIGHTEEN

Doc

Years ago, Paps made sure to pave a pathway to the cemetery from the clubhouse so we could send off any brothers we lost with the rumble of Harleys. With the horses pulling the wagon holding Pokey’s casket, we follow behind, our normal pattern adjusted since we have another chapter’s president here, as well as the national president.

Big Daddy is in the center, flanked by Rio and Rip on either side of him, with the vice presidents slightly behind. Seeing three men who wear the same patch as I do sitting tall on their bikes has pride coursing through me. We may be in different chapters, hell, we may dance along the line of legal versus illegal in some aspects, but at the end of the day, we’re all united… we’re all Kings.

Once we’re all parked, Rio, Rip, Indiana, and Icer carry the casket over to the graveside, where the casket bier is waiting. I watch as they lower it then each one lightly touches the top before they return to stand by their ol’ ladies. Pokey’s casket is awork of art, that’s for damn sure. It's glossy black, with the Kings logo on the top, and along the side is Pokey’s name and position. Preacher looks at Rio and at his nod, he approaches the casket with a cut that he drapes across the top.

While Pokey is buried in his actual cut, one is usually displayed on the casket as a show of respect. I hear a few sniffles in the crowd and see Constance and Maria dabbing at their eyes with handkerchiefs, which doesn’t surprise me at all since they helped take care of Pokey, cooking foods to entice him to eat when his appetite began to wane.

Preacher clears his throat and my attention snaps to him. “I may be this chapter’s chaplain, but you know we do funerals our way, theKingsway, right?” When a low roar rises from the crowd, I don’t bother to hide my grin, especially when Gretchen turns shocked eyes toward me.

Leaning down, I whisper, “This is unlike anything you’ve ever experienced before, so hold on, sweetheart, because Preacher’s just getting started.” She squeezes my hand in answer, so I lace our fingers together, needing that connection.

“First of all, Pokey, I’m fucking pissed that you didn’t let your brothers take your back during this epic last battle of yours. No brother is left behind, remember? Yet, you chose to walk that path on your own, not letting us help in any way we could. So, we’ll be having words when I finally get there. That being said, cancer fucking sucks. I’m sure I could spout a bunch of rigamarole about why there’s so much illness in this world, and from a religious aspect, I’d be partially correct, but again, that’s not who we are. Instead, I’ll say this, you never broke the code, brother. You were loyal until the very end, and I’m sure you and Paps have already gone through at least one keg of beer, as you catch him up on what’s been going on around here. Now, I thinkRio wants to say a few words, then I’ll wrap it up because those ladies have a feast prepared for all of us back at the clubhouse.”

He moves to stand with us as chuckles ring out and Rio stands in front of the casket. I watch him lower his head as he touches the casket while drawing in a deep breath. Issy walks up and takes his hand as he turns to the crowd. “Issy is here because Pokey kept the two of us out of a lot of trouble when we were younger,” Rio starts. “I know we always called him an old timer, and in a sense, he was since he was the last one from Paps’ time, but the reality is, he was only ten or so years older than us. Paps brought him home one day after returning from a run. He was a scrawny, pimply-faced teenager with a surly attitude and Paps got him started mucking out the stalls.”

Chuckles reverberate as we all visualize how it was back in the beginning. Rip and Icer stand and move to Rio and Issy, Rip giving Rio a look as if to ask if he can say something.

At Rio’s nod, Rip starts talking. “What many of y’all might not know, is that Paps put him in charge over us since we had been driving the ranch hands crazy. Paps put a prospect cut on Pokey and told him if he wanted to earn his patch, he’d make sure all of us survived to adulthood.”

“It was a close call a few times,” Rio admits, grinning down at Issy. “But despite our antics, he did what he was told, when he was told, and as Paps told me years ago, Pokey was one of the youngest members ever patched into the club. So, yes, he was an old-timer in the sense that he became a brother during Paps’ reign, but he was still a relatively young man, all things considered. Still, maybe it’s because he was given such an important task by Paps, he always seemed… older.”

He looks at the casket again and says, “Cancer fucking sucks, plain and simple. You should be here, brother, drinking and riding while telling tales from the road. Rest easy, but give ‘em hell, Pokey.”

As cheers ring out and Gretchen once again gives me wide eyes, likely shocked at how non-traditionally we do things, Preacher steps back up in front of the casket. “He was opinionated, surly, sometimes obnoxious, but he always,always, had his brothers’ backs. If you’re the religious type, then you likely believe he was fully healed when he died. Regardless of your beliefs, we know our brother is gonna ride on throughout eternity, and one day, we’ll all be together again.”

“That was… different,” Gretchen says as I walk her to the vehicle she rode here in, since the brothers were all solo on their bikes as a show of solidarity.

“Welcome to the Kings, sweetheart,” I reply, leaning in to kiss her nose. “See you back at the clubhouse.”

“Where chaos will undoubtedly reign, but I’ll let her figure that out for herself,”I mutter to myself.

The ride back to the clubhouse doesn’t take a lot of time, and soon, I’m parking my bike in my spot. Before we go in, I hear Big Daddy asking if there’s anyone who’s due to be patched in any time soon.

“Mongrel is the closest one,” Rio replies. “We were planning to vote him in and then Pokey died. Didn’t seem right to me for us to overshadow Pokey’s wakeorMongrel’s patch-in party.”

“Fuck that, we’re Kings,” Big Daddy states. “Why not do both? It’ll be a patch-in party the kid’ll never forget.”

Rio shrugs. “Got his stuff in my office.”