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Hangman narrows his eyes. “I’m done here.” He punches the end button.
“Whew,” Joker says. “That was intense.”
Hangman looks over at him. “Guess we accomplished what we wanted. Got Crip riled up.”
I scuff my boot on the carpet as I run the conversation over in my head. “No talk of retaliation. Just a temper tantrum.”
Joker agrees. “Blowing off steam. Has to save face.”
Hangman leans back in his chair. “Hope that shuts things down for a while. We got too much else goin’ on right now to deal with Blackbeard bullshit.” He changes the subject as he asks Joker, “Any news on Meg?”
Meg was a passaround who got pregnant with Hangman’s kid while he was married to Verity. She went missing when Brielle was four years old. Gone for six years without a trace until one of the Harper’s told us his family killed her. That was all the info we got before Hangman turned his head to mush.
Joker shakes his head. “No time, boss. Not with the usual club stuff and those feebs playing games.” He motions towards the phone still on Hangman’s desk. “And the fuckin’ Blackbeards.”
Hangman sighs. “Guess she can keep. After all, she’s been waitin’ six years.”
“Gonna have to,” Joker replies.
Rocky sticks his head inside the doorway. “Coyote’s almost set up. Should join us now.” He glances at me with a grin and a quick raise of his eyebrows.
“You got beer in there?” Hangman asks as he stands.
“Yup,” Rocky nods. “In a cooler. Better get there before the brothers drink it all.”
Red shoves a beer into my hand as I walk into Church. “Thanks,” I say absently as I look around at the brothers talking, some laughing, some serious. Everyone’s there, including the former prez, Lord, who’s now in a wheelchair thanks to a stray bullet in a fire fight.
I sit in my usual place next to Rocky and facin’ Reaper across the table. Coyote’s attaching a cable to the TV, a small grin on his lips. He’s the only one of us who’s seen the feed, which I guess is why he’s smiling. “Ready,” he says as he slides into the chair next to Reaper.
The brothers stop talking, all eyes glued to the screen.
The cameras are set up so they record in the dark and the mikes are super-sensitive to sound. Crip’s bed comes into view.
I point at the lump on the pillow. “Dino’s head.”
“Shut up, asshole,” Jawbone says. “We don’t need subtitles.”
I grin as I take a sip of my beer. I’m feeling as mellow as a man can get after a good night of fucking. And this morning, my girl woke me up with a blowjob before she headed to work. It was in the kitchen, me standing at counter with a cup of coffee, watching my cock being fucked by her beautiful mouth.
I don’t know why it turns me on so much to see my dick sliding in and out any of her holes, but it’s making me hard thinking about it.
The distant bang of a door in the video brings my attention back to the TV screen. The mikes are so sensitive we can hear Crip stumbling around, cursing, then the flow of piss and the toilet flushing. Another thump as he leaves the bathroom.
“The filthy bastard didn’t fuckin’ wash his hands,” Hash says, pretending to be outraged.
“At least he used the toilet,” Rocky sniggers.
“Shut up,” Hangman growls even though he’s laughing as hard as the rest of us.
Coyote turns up the volume as Crip wanders into view. He’s so fucking drunk he’s stumbling all over the place, hittin’ the wall, the furniture, slurring his curses. We watch as he struggles to undress. Like any biker who respects the code, he shrugs out of his cut and hangs it on the back of a chair. The rest of his clothes ain’t so lucky as he manages to kick off his boots after several tries, then fumbles with his jeans and T-shirt until he’s naked.
“Fuck,” Rider says what the rest of us are thinking. “I’m gonna have to bleach my eyeballs after seeing that.”
The laughter roars out of us.
Crip crawls into bed, then the feed goes black.
“What the fuck?” Hangman growls, looking at Coyote, who’s leanin’ back in his chair, his arms folded. He’s wearing a smug smile as he tilts his chin towards the screen. “Keep watching.”
