“Will Dusty go along with it?”
“Doll, I’m the sergeant-at-arms, and he’s my brother, but in this case, I know there’ll be no need for persuasion. He’ll jump at the chance. I only have to ask.”
It must be nice to have that security of knowing you have men behind you who’d do whatever you needed.
I hear a door open and close. It would appear Alicia has emerged from her room at last. Realising she won’t know we have a visitor, I hastily excuse myself to go check she’s decent before she emerges.
Chapter Thirteen
Grumbler
Well I’ll be fucked. Mary’s come up with a fucking good idea. If Devon falls for it, Dusty can lead us right to where he’ll be shooting his shots. That woman has a good head on her shoulders.
I can’t recall taking advice from a bitch before, not that I’d summarily dismiss it had it been offered on the grounds they lacked a part of anatomy unique to males. Prior to my chats with Mary, conversations with women normally revolved around what sexual position they preferred. I think I’ve had more discussions with Mary over the past week than I’ve had with any female in the past thirty years. When she’d been at the end of the phone, it had been as easy as though I was talking to one of my brothers, only the lack of swear words coming from her mouth had reminded me that I wasn’t.
Now that I’m in her presence again, I’m reminded how far removed she is from any of them. Especially now, as I watch her walk away to go greet her daughter, finding my eyes lingering on her until she disappears. She has a fine figure for a woman. I suspect she’s late thirties or possibly even hit forty from what I can see. Her face, while still youthful, has lines of maturity etched on it.
Her eyes, I love her eyes. They look large in her face, and so expressive. But, however attractive I’m starting to find her, she’s off-limits, far too young for me.
Rinsing my empty coffee cup, I place it in the sink, then wander into the living room. There’s a picture on the side table I hadn’t noticed last time I was here. I go and pick it up. It’s a lovely snap of Mary and a man, his arms are around her and both are grinning. She’s younger in it, so it’s not recent. I wonder who the man is. Obviously a lover, a brother wouldn’t have that heat in his eyes as he looks at her. Her husband, I deduce.
“That’s me and Dave.” Mary’s soft voice sounds from behind me as she gives me the confirmation. “It was taken shortly before he died.”
I wonder whether she’s still grieving and suspect she is. I’ve recently lost Smoker, and hell, I miss the bugger. I’ll continue hearing his voice in my head for some time to come, I suspect, but that’s nothing to losing someone you shared your dreams with.
“Alicia’s just making herself decent. I’ve told her you’re here and want to talk to her.”
It’s down to me then, but I need her advice. “How do I play this?”
Mary grimaces. “Tell her exactly what you want her to tell Owen,” she half whispers. “She’s got no reason to know she’s not passing on a genuine request.”
I get her meaning and agree one hundred percent. I don’t know how good an actress Alicia is, so she may not be able to pull it off if she knows she’s spinning a line.
“Morning, Grumbler.”
“Good afternoon, kid.” I grin, not a stranger to people sleeping in on the mornings after a heavy night, though I doubt Alicia spent last night fucking and drinking. “You good?”
“Great.”
“You seen Devon lately?” I know she hasn’t told her mom she has, but it’s worth a try.
“No. Owen hasn’t either.”
“You’ve spoken to him again?” Mary butts in, her annoyance showing.
I try and signal with my eyes that she should be careful. On this occasion, we actually want her to speak to him.
Alicia ignores her mom. “Is that your motorcycle outside?”
I raise my chin.
“Cool. I thought I recognised it.”
“It’s a shame you haven’t spoken to Devon,” I tell her, trying to inject disappointment into my voice.
“You want your money,” she states.
“Sure, that would be nice, but one of my brothers is interested in modelling for him.”
She turns and gives me an appraising look, and I know she’s putting me into the grandfather age bracket. It dawns on me, any blood brother of mine would be deemed to be too old too. Again I get out my phone, pulling up Dusty’s photo again. “That’s him. And that’s his bike.”
Her eyes expand. While I know Dusty’s far too old for her, or at least, that’s what I hope he’d think, she’s obviously seeing something her mom had and that I’d missed. “That’s your brother?”
“My MC brother, another member. We’re like family,” I explain.
“I’d love to model with him,” she sighs, dreamily. I have to signal to Mary with my eyes once again. Especially when Alicia adds, “Could you introduce me to your brothers? Have they all got motorbikes? Do you think Dusty would give me a ride?”
Now that I’ve got to shut down fast. “Well, you see, Alicia. A man’s ride is something special to him. Some men don’t mind, but to most, there’s only one woman they’d take on the back of their bike, and that’s one who’s special and who is going to become their ol’ lady.”
Her head tilts to one side. “Old lady? You said that the last time you were here.”
Mary indicates a seat, and I take the hint, leaning back and crossing my legs at the ankles. “Old lady’s a term we use for what you’d call a wife. A woman you’re going to commit to.”
Alicia sits on the couch opposite. “Have you got an old lady?”
“No, never have, never will.” Knowing the kid would understand, I add, “I’m too old.” That she
