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"Oh. You're a club member too?" Bellamy takes him in, clearly noticing he isn't wearing a leather cut.
"No. Just my brother, Logan."
"Oh." She nods. "My name is Bellamy." She flashes a friendly smile at Nikolai. "You have an accent. Are you Russian?"
“Yes.” Nikolai grins.
“OHchen' priYATna.”
Nikolai, Ember, and I look at Bellamy, who just spoke what sounded like Russian. Nikolai smiles in amazement. "OHchen' priYATna. Impressive. You know Russian?"
She shrugs as if it's nothing. "A little. Other languages and cultures are beautiful and fascinating to me. I spent a lot of time alone in my room back home, so, with nothing better to do, I watched and listened to videos online. I've taught myself some Russian, Spanish, and Chinese, but only basic greetings and how to ask where the bathroom is located."
"What did you say to Nikolai?" My curiosity gets the better of me.
"Roughly translated, it means nice to meet you," Nikolai answers before my sister.
"Bellamy, that's amazing," Ember praises my sister.
"It's nothing special." Bellamy's hair shrouds her face when she looks down at her plate and pushes pieces of scrambled egg around with a fork.
"Yes, it is," Ember, Nikolai, and I say at the same time.
Nikolai sighs, placing his mug on the counter. "I've got to run. Tell Logan I'll catch up with him another time." Nikolai then gives his attention to my sister, "Welcome to the family, Bellamy." Then he takes his leave.
My sister breathes when Nikolai is no longer in the kitchen. "The men around here are fine."
"I can't hear you say things like that."
She laughs. "Why?"
"Because." I stand and try coming up with a good reason other than she's my sister. Because how can I play the big brother card after only a few days of knowing she exists? "You're fifteen."
Bellamy rolls her eyes. "I have eyes, Blake."
I glance at Ember, who appears amused at my clumsy brotherly behavior. "For it to only be your third day of playing the part of big brother, I would say you are falling into the role naturally." She bites her lip to suppress a smile.
"I'm duckin' out of this conversation before I get myself in trouble." I stride over to Ember, lean down, and cover her mouth with mine. "I'll be outside."
She smiles against my lips as I give her another kiss. "Okay. Bellamy and I will hang out, and we'll go ahead and prepare some sandwiches and pack up some of Bella's leftover potato salad for lunch. Come get us when you're ready to leave."
With one final taste of her lips, I stroll out of the kitchen and head outside to where my beat-up old pickup truck is parked. I open the passenger side door and grab the toolbox from the floorboard. Moving to the front, I lift the rusty hood of my 1965 Dodge. I bought the truck from Charley last spring. It had been sitting in his garage for several years, and he had no time to fix her. He loved the truck and hated to see it go, but selling it to me gave him peace of mind. She doesn't look like much now, but once I finally get her into the shop and repaint the body to its original pine-green color, everything about her will be restored. I lean under the hood and begin replacing the spark plugs.
Once finished, I wipe the grime from my hands onto a shop rag as I walk around to the driver's side, then slide in and turn the engine over. On the second try, she fires right up. I let the motor run while I put my tools away and close the hood. The rumble of bikes draws my attention, and I look toward the compound gate and see Logan and Gabriel are back. I toss the toolbox into the truck's bed, turn the motor off, and head inside to wash up before we gather for church.
Church commences once we've all taken a seat. "How were the roads this mornin'?" Jake directs his attention to Logan and Gabriel.
"Nothin' to report," Logan states, and beside him, Gabriel sits silently with his arms folded over his chest.
Jake nods. "Let's hope it remains that way." His jaw tightens, and the energy in the room changes. "Contact has been made with Satan's Hounds, and they've agreed to a sit-down. The face-to-face will occur in a small town straddling the Utah-Nevada state line."
Austin leans forward. "That's at least a full day's ride, depending on the weather."
"It is, but this needs to take place on neutral territory. I won't have a fuckin' Satan's Hound stepping foot in my town." Jake's voice hardens. "These fuckers are known to be unpredictable and backstabbing. This club doesn't live by any code, and rules of conduct don't mean jack shit to them."
"We know their numbers?" Quinn asks, and Reid chimes in to answer his question.
"Around a dozen." Reid sighs, adding, "These guys are into shady shit. Aside from manufacturing and selling street drugs and theft, they've had their hands in human trafficking and are rumored to be associated with cartels."
