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She nods, taking it in and letting Granny’s words flow over her. Her face softens, and she reaches out and sets a hand on her dad’s arm. “I think we need to ask ourselves why our club was singled out and chosen to be targeted by a group that only takes down criminals. The club isn’t about that. My dad has never done anything illegal, and he would never harm anyone. He’s actually helped a lot of his brothers get their lives back on track.”
Her pride in her dad is unmistakable. Her eyes glow with a yellow fire when she looks at him, and for that brief span of time, I can understand why she admires her dad so much. I mean, I could comprehend it, but I can practically feel it right now. That current of love passing between them is so real.
“I’ll tell you why!” Granny screeches, fully wound up now. She shoves her finger at a big bearded guy (one of many) wearing a leather jacket (also one of many) and torn, stained jeans (you guessed it—one of many). The guy clears his throat and shuffles his feet, looking confused and uncomfortable. Granny has that effect, even on big bad biker giants. “Because this machismo meathead, flatulence-scented troglodyte had the nerve to nearly run me down on the street when I was on a crosswalk. A crosswalk. I could have let that go, but no. When I yelled at him, he turned around and flipped me off. As in, he gave me the middle finger, basically telling me silently to go fuck myself when he was the one in the wrong. He nearly ran down a little old lady, and then he had the nerve to fly her the bird. A granny! Where’s the respect?
“An ogre like that could only come from a terrible place, and when I saw the patch on his jacket as he was riding away, I got it. I got more than that. His plate number too. I tried everything in my power to hack your club after that, but you had your shit hidden behind firewall after firewall, deflection after deflection, and shells and black holes. There was nothing. Nothing anywhere. That in itself was extremely suspicious.”
“Just because I flipped you off, you think you can take down our club?” The brute stares at Granny with somewhere between disbelief at her audacity, horror at the fact that the whole thing was the result of a very small action, and the regular arrogance that he’s used to giving off seeping off of him like heat waves.
Granny shakes her head. “Nope. I did my research and figured out fast that you had someone good with computers to cover your tracks, which usually means there are plenty of tracks. I found out that you owned several nightclubs, two mechanic’s garages, and one bike dealership. Those are all usually fronts for the usual—drug dealing, women, and money laundering.”
“It’s so awesome when old ladies talk dirty,” one of the guys says from somewhere in the ring around us.
Granny hears that and snorts while Ayana makes a noise low in her throat. I hear it, and it sounds like distress to me, which makes me want to plow over that bastard who just dared to make fun of my grandmother and stress Ayana out. I mean, that little sound from her sends me into a full-on rage, and it’s a hard fight back to the surface where I can see properly again without my scarlet-tinted anger goggles on. I’ve never heard a single sound that could produce such a reaction within me in my life. Ever.
“Boy, if you think that’s talking dirty, you haven’t spent enough time around anyone from the older generation. You think because we have a few years on us, we’re infirm and incapable? Pah! Pah to you! And this! This is for you.” Granny flies both birds in the face of the guy who had dared to flip her off in the first place.
There’s a collective gasp and a rough peal of smothered laughter.
“She has you there, Sonny,” someone says from behind me.
“You should apologize to the lady,” a guy to my left whispers.
Someone shoves Sonny in the side with an elbow. “Say you’re sorry. Look at the mess you could have gotten us into just by being rude.”
Sonny rakes a hand through his hair and shuffles his feet. I don’t know if he’s more uncomfortable or embarrassed at this point. “Uh, I…when was it? I honestly don’t remember.”
“Last year,” Granny seethes. “Think real hard.”
“I don’t know if I can. Not because I’m broke up here…” Sonny points to his forehead. “It’s no excuse for the way I acted, but last year, my wife—ex-wife now—left me, and everything was a blur of rage and hurt. I’m sorry, ma’am, that I took it out on you and drove my bike irresponsibly.” He turns and addresses all his gathered brothers. “I’m sorry to you all.” His gaze stops on Hobart and Ayana. “And I’m sorry that I just about wrecked the home we have here and was the cause of almost bringing down this place that you…well, that all of us have built.”
