ChapterSeven
Six Weeks Later
“What do I have to do to get you to stop calling me Preppy?” The man in question was looking, and sounding, seriously put out about the nickname. All four of my new residents had taken to popping up here and there with offers to help out. Offers I begrudgingly accepted even though my crew members should already be doing the jobs. Apparently, there was a lack of competence going on in my club, something I’d be addressing in church real fucking soon.
“I’m not calling you Ares. God of War, my stretch-marked ass.” The last was more to myself, mumbled under my breath, but the room was small and quiet, so he definitely heard me.
At his glower, I shrugged and kept on with the inventory tally. One of the bartenders thought we’d been having to order a bit too often, so I was taking a day to go through the storage room before comparing it to the receipts to see what was what. If someone from my crew was getting sticky fingers, they were liable to lose the whole hand. “Can you reach those boxes up there behind you? I need to check what’s in them and how many. I’ve already found boxes that should have been compiled and broken down—like it’s fucking hard to move one set of bottles that match the other into the same box. Someone is going to be missing a strip of hide when I get through with them.”
“I’ll be happy to help with that if you’d like. We don’t have enough to do hanging around here. Not that we mind hanging around,” he said in his defense, holding his hands up when he got glared at. “Just meaning feel free to put us to work. We’d be happy to pitch in, and we’re used to keeping shit organized. We’ll eventually have to find jobs, but we’ve got enough stashed back to keep us for a while yet.”
Vacillating between saying what I was feeling or zipping my lips, I went through two more boxes before turning to face him. Hoping I wasn’t making a mistake, I revealed my concerns. “It’s my club, my problem. Yes, you’re technically full members, but I feel that it looks like I can’t handle my shit if I let you come in and help straighten out what shouldn’t be fucked up in the first place. And if you share any of this, I’m booting your ass out, but some of my decisions have caused friction that I didn’t anticipate. A few crew members aren’t into the changes that are happening, and it’s getting to the point that they’re going to be formally reprimanded. I’m afraid I’m going to lose members. We’ve only been an official chapter for three years, and I’ve managed to fuck it all up.” I finally fell silent after getting my worries off my chest. The person I chose to vent to could have been better, and maybe it would come back to bite me in the ass, but despite the way he rubbed me wrong, I didn’t get the vibe that he was disingenuous or unreliable.
He looked just as surprised at first, but then something I couldn’t quite put my finger on crept into his gaze. I had an inkling that I’d just gotten myself a new BFF for lack of a better term.
“Jesse,” he blurted out, crossing his arms over his chest and flaring his nose in challenge.
“What?” I was lost as to what he meant, but it was obvious he’d come to some sort of decision.
“You don’t want to call me Ares, so call me Jesse. That’s my name, Jesse O’Brien.” The offer of a compromise was a tipping point for us, one I was fine with.
“I suppose I can retire Preppy then. Jesse sorta suits you anyhow.” After agreeing to his suggestion, I got a half smile, something that made him go from dark and dangerous to still dangerous, but more in the melt-your-panties way.
“Deal. Now, competition is always a good way to get your people in order. If they think they might lose their position, they tend to step it up. Or, you know, they may need to be culled for the better of the group. So tell me how I can help, and I’ll get on it with the guys.”
I thought about it for a minute while I continued to work. After gathering my thoughts, I asked what was probably a stupid question, but again, my intuition told me Jesse wouldn’t lie to me. “Can I trust you? Like, really trust you, without you running off to your friends to fill them in?”
His answer wasn’t instant; he took a second, but he seemed genuine when he spoke. “I’m not in the habit of keeping secrets from them. We’ve been a unit and friends for too long for that. But…” He forestalled me when I went to tell him to forget it. “If it doesn’t endanger or betray any of them, whatever you share with me will stay between us.”
It wasn’t perfect, but if he’d said yes without the caveat, I might not have believed him. Did that make me fickle? Maybe. But I felt much better knowing he had a code that he’d stick to. Though I did wonder what the friend and unit speak was about since usually, in my experience, military men referred to each other as brothers.
“Well, remember you asked for it when the to-do list is longer than you are tall.” The warning was clue enough that we’d reached an accord. Then I set about outlining what I hoped to get done before winter set in, as well as the tasks that appeared to be being neglected.
* * *
Between the meeting where I royally chewed ass and the assistance from the guys, the next week was a productive one. My VP was pissed, but he’d been off for months, and I wasn’t quite sure how to fix whatever was wrong. He claimed it was growing pains from our transition into legal business and the uncertainty of what we’d do if the laws changed again that worried him, but it felt like more than that. I figured I’d give him some space and see if he sorted himself out before I intervened, though it bugged me to do so.
On the bright side, Opal had all but attached herself to her dads. She’d even started calling them that. The others were Uncle Jesse and Uncle Levi. When I found out why he was called Coot, I wasn’t having my daughter use it and had demanded he choose something else. I could still hear Gus snickering as he informed me that there wasn’t a pair of panties Levi hadn’t been able to drop yet, hence Coot, which was shortened from Cooter. When I mentioned I’d turned him down, he said that didn’t count since he hadn’t actually gotten a chance thanks to Gus and Lochlan heading him off. At that point, the conversation had taken a turn into uncomfortable territory as it was blatant he’d be interested in giving it a go, and the cousins didn’t seem to mind at all. Wondering if the ship had sailed on their interest, or whether they just didn’t mind sharing all around, I’d hightailed it out of there, not ready to find out either way.
I should have known I couldn’t avoid the topic forever though, and the two new club whores had just shown me that their interest had indeed moved on. With the bar closed to the public for the night, it was club members only, a chance to let loose since everyone had been working hard to get my plans under way.
I’d kept half an eye on the new women, as I usually did any new member, prospect, or hanger-on, and now I sort of wished I had gone home early and left the festivities to Tee or Tank. My sergeant-at-arms, a crazy fucker that looked like a red-headed Viking who didn’t take shit from anybody, Tank probably would have been the better choice, but he had an elderly mother at home that he didn’t like to leave alone at night. I couldn’t blame him. I had Opal waiting on me as well, but I had the benefit of a much shorter drive. I could walk if I decided to drink, whereas Tank would have to tag in one of the prospects if he needed a DD.
It was too late to delegate, with Tank already being gone and Tee partying it up, so I stayed behind the bar, stocking it while Coot and Jesse forwent the party to install the electronic locks on all of the storerooms. They’d just arrived earlier in the afternoon, and the guys had wanted to get the job done. The new locks had user-specific codes, were hooked up to the wi-fi, and the entry log would automatically get emailed to me each day. It was an easy solution to an irritating problem.
We had indeed been short miscellaneous bottles of alcohol, enough to fill several cases when it came down to it. Spills, overpouring, and even accidental breaking wouldn’t account for what was missing. I hadn’t been able to narrow down the person, or persons, responsible, but my crew had gotten a warning that we didn’t help ourselves to bar or club property without either me or Tee authorizing it, and he swore he hadn’t given it. No one said differently, so I took him at his word and prepared myself to clean house when I found out who was fucking around in shit they shouldn’t be.
As I polished the bar to within an inch of its life, avoiding the show Nancy and Tanya were putting on for Gus and Lochlan, I wished the thief would magically pop up so I could beat the shit out of someone. It wasn’t the women’s fault that I was still hung up on two men that were free to do what they wanted, but all the same, I had the urge to stake my nonexistent claim and kick their half-naked asses out of my bar.
Fully aware I shouldn’t do that just because I was jealous, I signaled one of the prospects to man the bar so I could take a break and regain my composure. It was a damn good thing I did as at that moment, Tanya decided to press her suit and straddled Lochlan, flashing me and everyone else her un-pantied crotch. I didn’t wait around to see what happened next, zipping down the hall to hide in the first room I came to. Keying in my code, I was inside and had my back against the closed door before I realized the room was occupied.
I wasn’t sure who was more shocked, me or Jesse and Coot, but they recovered a hell of a lot faster than I did. Pulling his lips from around Jesse’s impressively thick dick, Coot raised a brow and, using the hand gripping the base of said dick, tilted it in my direction. “Wanna lick, little lady?” he asked, all polite and shit like he was offering me a Blow-Pop.
I blinked at the man on his knees before my eyes traveled up to lock on Jesse’s heated ones. Sex, public or private, was common enough around the clubhouse and didn’t faze me in the least, but something about finding the two of them together drew me like a magnet. It had me ready to abandon my dry spell while also presenting me with the dual purpose of soothing my hurt pride and bruised heart.
“If you’d prefer I get on my knees alongside Coot for you to take my place, that can be arranged. Or I can put my dick away, and you can sit down and tell us what you’re running from. I’m assuming it’s Boudreaux?” His intuition was spot on, but I couldn’t use them that way without giving them a heads up. Upset as I was about the situation, I wouldn’t wreck their friendship, not that I was brave enough to take them up on their offer.
“They’re with the new girls, and I couldn’t stand to watch it. I’ll let you two finish up here. I'm just gonna go.” My hand gripped the handle even though leaving was the last thing I wanted to do, both for curiosity’s sake and in hopes of driving intrusive thoughts of the bar scene from my head.