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He pursed his lips. “Yeah.”
“You hear yourself, right?” she said, smiling incredulously.
He dipped his head and blew out again. “I get it, it belongs in a different century… but where there are bikers, there will be women who want that and will do anything to have a piece of the pie. You get that, April, right?” He flung it back to her with a teasing smile.
She gnashed her teeth. “Touché,” she said. Yes, she was one of those women right now, and yes, she saw the irony. “So the ladies have to do all the cleaning and cooking and-”
“The sweet butts, yes, the ol’ ladies, no.”
“So the men make the sweet butts their ol’ ladies-”
“Not really, no one wants to have one of the ladies who have been passed around. Tends to cause drama.”
She tossed her hair out of her face, trying a different angle. “And so what’s with the leather thing?”
“It’s a cut, it has the club colors on it, the emblem, position, and name. You gotta represent, gotta wear your club colors.”
“… That’s what you cut off, right, all the name badges and stuff?”
He looked at her for a moment. Maybe they weren’t called badges, it made it sound like a Boy Scout or something, collecting badges. And a Boy Scout, Colt was not. She tried not to blush.
“So, do you earn money, as well?” she asked.
“Well, sometimes, you can earn a bonus, but usually it all goes into one big pot, which is divided up between the members, or invested to better the club, or make new connections…”
“Really, it’s a group of disillusioned men and women with self esteem issues who got together to try out some slightly communist principles and who take part in illegal-”
Colt interrupted now, his voice louder, his face taking on some color. “It’s more than that, yeah there’s shady stuff, and yeah I see that women’s rights still has a way to go in the MC, but it’s a family. I’d die for my brothers, and in turn they’d die for me. They have my back, when no one else would. When society labels you a fuck up and casts you out with no safety net, no family or attentive teacher or thorough social worker or lenient insurance payout…” He cleared his throat of the emotion but she heard it creeping in there. “Yeah, the sweet butts can cause drama, but it’s free pussy, on tap, all of them willing, there to make your wildest dreams come true. And some of the guys love ‘em. You know? They fall in love, they get knocked up, they get betrayed, they support each other, just like any other relationship.”
“And can anyone join?”
He scratched his stubble with his thumb. “Only men. And only if you have a bike. And actually… some MCs have outdated rules like no blacks, no gays…”
“Are you joking?”
“It’s written in the charter, which was created in a different time-”
“Times change and rules need to change, too.”
“I hear you, I agree, it was on the list of things to do, to change, we just never got around to it.”
“Too busy whoring and drinking and partying-”
“Well, yes.”
“And drugs, too?”
“Yes.”
“You did drugs?”
“I wasn’t a junkie, but you could get yourself some premium weed, or blow. I never went stronger and I never encouraged that as Prez, because it made the guys sloppy, but if you wanted it harder...”
“Sounds idyllic, Colt,” she said sarcastically.
“I hear you, I do, if I were Prez again, I’d do things differently. We all gotta start somewhere.” He shook his head and smiled again. “But I was never alone, and for an orphan, that was a powerful thing. Somebody cared for me, I got food, and a place to sleep, my own room. That was great. I had women dropping to their knees at my feet, when the only other interactions I had was laughing in my face. I didn’t have parents, I was in foster homes, some okay, some not okay. I ran away from the last one. But at the MC, I could stand tall, I had money in my pocket and wheels and I was a man, you know? I could achieve things, I could get shit done. People looked up to me, respected me, and I took it seriously. I wanted to be the best Prez for them, to better them, as I had been bettered myself…”
She looked sideways at Colt as he drove. His stance was relaxed, his energy was flowing, he was animated and alive. Happy. Talking about MC life, Colt was a different man. “I had a home,” he said, finally.
