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The club was like a company, in a way. Kansas was the President, the CEO and then there were his officers. Like board members, they backed Kansas and made sure they followed his orders. Vivi’s husband Pence was the Vice President. Monkwhowas the Sergeant-at-Arms before the massacre, held his position, Blackjack was the Treasurer, and then there were Widow and Whisper, the enforcers of the club. Trigger, Ashe, Judd and Angel were the last of the original brothers. The brothers who came after were Fifty, Bongo and Lips. Then there were those who were called prospects.
The club itself was a business. A brotherhood of men who lived as they wanted - free. They owned businesses such as the garage where they fixed and repaired cars, bikes, anything with a motor. They also owned an auto parts store, their own wreckage and towing service, and a construction company. The bar they owned was called The Diamond Sinner. The Diamondback M.C. was popular within the community and was the first to volunteer when trouble arose.
Vivi told me that not even three months after the cartel attacked the clubhouse, an EF-4 tornado struck a nearby town, decimating the community. The tornado destroyed most of the homes and businesses. The Diamondbacks didn’t even think twice and were the first on the scene. Instead of grieving for their losses, they put aside their pain to help those in need.
That alone told me all I needed to know.
These men may be rough and tough, but they were also compassionate and cared about others and their community.
They truly were a family in every sense of the word.
Looking at the handsome man sitting in the chair next to my bed, I didn’t claim to know what Kansas felt for Katie. My knowledge of love was skewed and twisted. I thought I knew what love was, but I learned that with love came pain and for Kansas, love was associated with death.
Weren’t we a pair?
“Thank you.”
Snapping my head to his, I frowned.
“For not saying sorry.”
I shrugged my shoulders.
A loud crash startled both of us. Next came a deafening roar, followed by a high-pitched squeal.
Kansas closed his eyes, whispering one word that said it all. “Hellraiser.”
Smirking, I said nothing as the door slammed opened as my little troublemaker rushed in, straight for Kansas.
Rolling my eyes, I tried not to smile when Talia climbed onto his lap and burrowed her face into his neck as Widow stormed in after her, dripping wet in seaweed and a small wiggling goldfish in his beard.
Oh boy, he was very angry.
What did you do, Talia?
“It was accident.”
What was?
When my daughter said nothing else, I looked up at Widow and cocked my head. Widow growled and pointed at my daughter.
“She’s a demon.”
Nodding, I sighed. Yes, that was the consensus lately, and I was beginning to agree with them. On a good day, Talia could try the patience of a saint, but with me laid up, there was nothing I could do about it.
Kansas sighed, then asked, “What did Hellraiser do now?”
“She and Trigger were playing when that fucker gave her a bat. She took one swing. One swing, Prez, and the bat flew out of her hands and into the aquarium. My aquarium. She killed my fish!”
Well, that explained the now dead fish in his beard.
“I’m sorry,” Talia sniffed as her eyes filled with tears.
Widow growled, did an about face and stormed away.
“Hellraiser, I’m going to chain you to the damn floor if you don’t stop your shit. What is wrong with you?”
“I’m bored.”
