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His words sink in and there’s one sentence triggering a hard fact; one clean shot in case we want out.
I swallow hard and croak, “You gave up your cut for me? You’re out? You–”
“Shhh. It’s a clean shot, darlin’. I have been a nomad for years, restless unless I felt the wind in my face and the scenery flashing by while the days spent with you are what made me feel alive. My old lady is a president. I’m your old man. I don’t need to wear a cut for that shit.” The grin he’s spreading across his face hits me straight in the heart, as do his words.
As if a veil is lifted; the world doesn’t seem as dark, nor is the weight as heavy on my shoulders. How everything crumbled around me a mere moment ago has now turned to a chance of a solid future. I’m too afraid to hope this is reality.
But when I glance down and see the bloody hole in Jorie’s forehead I breathe in the reality of justice for my father and his men, letting the bittersweet taste hit my tongue. And I now know; it is bittersweet. But it doesn’t feel like success knowing all those lives wasted.
Sadness hits me when I glance around the room, knowing we have to move forward from here on out and the first thing we have to do is arrange the funeral for Tikki. While no one cares about the body lying at my feet.
And that reminds me. “She said her father and her brother, along with Jacob, they all helped to kill our fathers. She was the one who stole the money and livestock and initiated the plan to kill them and plant the IED. But they helped her in the end. All of them.”
Atticus nods. “On our way over here, we were told both her father and brother were arrested. Her father is being brought to the police station as we speak and the brother was still in the hospital so he’s handcuffed to the bed. Now, your old man is going to take you and the rest of your MC members back to the clubhouse where you are going to stay until I come back. Then we all are going to have a little chat.”
“You and your stupid questions,” Ramona mutters, earning Atticus’ intense gaze to land on her.
I’m not liking the sound of any of it, but all I can do is nod before Ezra is guiding me out of the room while Medley, Cassia, Ramona, and the rest follow us back to the clubhouse.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Three weeks later
– EZRA –
Dirt bike or not, watching my old lady’s ass riding a bike is in the top five of my favorite things to watch. Hell, the whole top five is listed with different body parts, though her lips around my cock and her tits covered by my cum are a shared first place so you might say I’m cheating when I mention a top five of favorite things to watch. But who’s counting when she’s all mine?
She has been mine for almost a month. And I think that’s the longest I’ve ever stayed in one place ever since I became a nomad. The cut I’m wearing might not hold the nomad patch any longer since I called in my marker, but I was still entitled to keep some of the patches.
You might say by calling in my marker I was allowed to retire early. Best decision I’ve ever made, right next to claiming the woman who holds my heart but that goes without saying.
Hudsyn places a foot on the ground and lets the bike slide in a half turn as she whips her head around to see what’s happening behind her. The blonde hair coming out from underneath her helmet flows through the wind and it makes my cock harden to see her like this.
Fierce look on her face while she points at the pasture she wants the herd of longhorns in as she gives instructions into her mouthpiece to the members of her MC. The president patch on the leather cut she’s wearing stands out.
She fires up her bike and is standing on the pegs to glance over the herd to make sure no calves are running off. A smile spreads across my face. Even if all the members work together fluidly, she will never turn a blind eye to anything and is ready to jump in wherever she’s needed.
“Stop ogling me and do the work, babe.” Those husky words flow through my earpiece and I can’t help but chuckle.
“No dirty talk during work hours. Especially when your sister is wearing an earpiece and is tuned in on the same frequency,” Medley quips.
“Dude, we’re all sisters. And I’m gonna die from loneliness if I don’t find a man for myself and only get to hear those two go mushy at every turn,” Ramona groans.
“Didn’t you just jump off the cock that walked out of your room this morning?” Cassia quips. “You know, the construction worker who fixed the room Jorie destroyed?”
“Yeah, I saw it too. And seriously, he could have given us a discount from all the work you put into him,” Sonnet snickers.
I groan. Here we go again. People might have their opinion ready about bikers and women who come to their clubhouse. Hangarounds, sweetbutts, whatever; women who like to have a good time without strings attached. But these past few weeks with these women have been quite an eye opener.
They might not bring men to the clubhouse but they aren’t exactly saints either. Okay, Ramona has brought a man into the clubhouse but like Sonnet mentioned, he was hired to fix the room so he was there on business before she dragged him into her room.
“Y’all are just jealous because you’re not getting any,” Ramona snaps. “Except for you, Cassia. The only thing you’ve been riding are your fingers and those look like prunes.”
“Shut up and focus, people. Close the gate so we can lock ‘em in and everyone can get back to their own drama. Cassia to her fingers, Ramona doin’ construction-dude, me and my old man finally–”
“Yeah, time to shut up and close up. Thaaaaat was freaking close. There, locked fence, the herd is safely inside, work is done and I’m ripping out my earpiece before my ears start to bleed,” Medley grumbles while everyone laughs as I take out the earpiece as well.
I’ve been watching all their interactions while leaning on the horn of my saddle. Life tastes better if you know and combine all the flavors you love. And I’m happy to say I did. I was raised on a ranch and find the hard work satisfying. I love working with animals and the teamwork it takes to get things done right.
