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“They dropped the fucking cake?” Reaper looks pissed.
“Yeah, but it’s okay. We were able to save it,” the woman he called Sash says.
“They have one fucking job.” Reaper looks at Ghost. He looks upset, but not as murderous as Reaper.
The woman looks scared as she awkwardly glances around.
“I’m sorry, Sasha. It’s not your fault. I didn’t mean to yell.”
I’m confused as shit as I watch the pair. I didn’t know Reaper was seeing anyone. Honestly, I didn't think he would ever get involved with anyone after all the shit Lilah’s mom has put him through over the years.
“I’ll take care of it, Reap. Won’t happen again,” my brother tells his VP.
Reaper rises off the picnic table and leads the woman away by the hand. Ghost gets up and takes off to the clubhouse at the same time.
“What’s going on?” I ask the remaining of the group.
Maggie is the one to fill me in.
“Lilah opened a bakery, and she does pretty well for herself. She started doing cakes and things for weddings and big events a year or so ago. The prospects are supposed to help her set up the cakes at the venues because half the cakes she makes are double the size of her. Lilah’s a tiny thing. The club technically owns the business, so you know how they see it.”
Horse adds on, “Bad business means a bad name for the club.”
“But Lilah knows her stuff. She probably fixed it better than it looked before they dropped it,” Maggie remarks.
Little Lilah, a baker. Huh. I can honestly say I didn’t see that coming, I always thought she just played around with her baking as a kid.
“Fights are starting!” Tiny shouts over the crowd.
“That’s my cue. I’m gonna head home and let the dogs out. I won’t wait up,” Maggie says as she kisses Horse on the cheek and heads inside.
Maggie turns around and gives Horse one last parting remark. “Tell the whores to clean my kitchen. And you, mister, better keep your dick to yourself.”
I choke on my beer hearing Maggie put Horse in his place.
He must register my wide eyes and gives a slight chuckle. “About a year ago, a new girl didn’t know about Mags. Well, Mags came in just as the girl was sitting down on my lap. I didn’t have time to even move her before she yanked her off my lap and put her in her place,” he explains.
I can’t control the laughter that booms out of me at the thought of Maggie attacking a young broad.
Horse is one of the good guys. As far as any of us know, he’s never cheated on his woman. If I ever was lucky enough to find an ol’ lady, I would only hope she was like Maggie. Horse and Maggie are in their fifties with two kids. Their son is a member of the club who has been overseas in the military for longer than I’ve been in prison. They also have a daughter, who I’m pretty sure should be in college by now.
The outside lights are flipped on, illuminating the fight ring which is a large octagon like the pros use. We make our way to the front and I watch as two guys I’ve never met before take their shirts off and step in.
Tiny lays down the rules for them. Like every fight, this doesn’t take very long because there aren’t many rules. No dick shots. No kidney shots. And once the fight is called, it’s done. No taking that shit out of the ring. The list is pretty short and sweet.
Ghost, Flame, and Bunny ease up next to me. Flame holds Bunny in front of his body.
“Who are they?” I ask.
“Two guys from the shop. They’ve been havin’ some issues the past few weeks. Told them to settle it in the ring. Guess they both finally stopped being pussies about it,” Ghost says.
I nod my head and watch on as the first kid’s fist connects with the other kid’s cheek.
“What’re their names?”
“Kid in the black jeans is Wes. Good kid. Nineteen. His pops used to beat on him. Dad saw him riding his bicycle up and down the alley behind the shop everyday. Stopped him one day and asked what the deal was. New black eyes, bruises on the cheeks, the whole works. He asked him if he knew anything about bikes and cars. Wes said no, but he’d love to learn. Dad told him when he turned sixteen to come by the shop and he’d have a job. Been there ever since.”
I nod in understanding. We got lucky with our pops. You hear way too much about kids getting abused and shit. It doesn’t sit right in my stomach.
