Page 34 of Pride

“La Jolla,” I said. “For a beer.”

“Hell, I’m game,” Cholo said.

“Fuck it,” P-Nut said. “I’ll roll to La Jolla with ya.”

“La Jolla?” Smokey asked. “Shit, that’s a nice little run. I’m in.”

“If you fuckers are going,” I’m going,” Pee Bee said.

Tate jumped up. “I’ll roll with ya.”

“Fuck you guys,” Crip snarled. “I’m staying here.”

“Nobody invited you, asshole,” P-Nut said.

Each of the men gave their wives a kiss, and we saddled up. As the six of us rode through the neighborhood in half-assed formation, Crip came blowing past us, taking his spot at the front of the pack.

He tried to play the part of an asshole, and to most, it was believable. As far as I was concerned, he was simply doing his job.

For the time being, I’d do whatever he told me. In time, I’d be a patched in member, and the men would be my true brothers.

Until then, I’d enjoy every moment I was able to ride with them.

We approached a traffic signal just before the freeway entrance. Pee Bee rolled to a stop at my side.

“When you going to pop the question?” he asked over the sound of his exhaust.

“I was thinking tomorrow,” I said.

He nodded. “Decided how you’re going to do it?”

“Thought I’d do it on the poker run, around all the fellas. You’re the only family I’ve got. It’ll be like an engagement party.”

He gave a nod as the light turned green. “We’ll make sure it’s an event she never forgets.”

So far, every moment with Anna had been memorable. I had no reason to believe our engagement would be anything but the same.

And, if the Filthy Fuckers were involved, there was no doubt it’d be just that.

Memorable.