It had been bad, the betrayal devastating, making more than one of us reconsider our future. For a time I’d thought I was going to have to start all over, even going so far as to revisit my old roots and see if there was anything there for me. I had reconnected with old friends, but that’s as far as it went. My problem was clear. I didn’t know how to exist outside of the MC world, so I’d been hoping there was another club or chapter of the Satan’s Devils who’d have me. In the end, thank fuck, that hadn’t been necessary. Somehow, we’d managed to put distrust behind us and move on. In my view, we’re a better club for it.
The final piece of the puzzle for the prez was finding Patsy. If having an old lady is what you want, and in Lost’s case it seems to be, then he certainly got his reward. As an old lady for a prez, he couldn’t do better than her. And with her beside him, he’s put his self-doubts in his rearview.
My chance of finding an old lady has long gone. When I was younger, I was all for the variety of pussy, never wanting to be tied down or having any desire to come home to that one special lady. If there was someone out there for me, well, I never found her, though I have to say I hadn’t gone looking. I’m staring at the big six zero coming up in three more birthday’s time and have long accepted I’ve been single this far, I’ll stay that way until I die. Not that I regret it, I’ve never pictured myself with a lady in my life and don’t expect I’ll change my mind now.
Sex? Eva would provide that if I had a need for it. Food, I cook for myself, eat out, or see who’s cooking in the clubhouse that night. I’m not a cuddler, and even if I were, I’ve a pillow I can hold in my arms. Nah, I do alright. Still, it can’t be denied, Patsy’s put a smile on Lost’s face, much like the expression I wear when I set eyes on my bike.
Knowing I need to get myself out of my head for a while, I leave the clubhouse, noting it’s a nice evening for a ride. I get on my bike and ease out of its parking spot, then head out of the compound and make my way down into the city.
Chapter Three
Grumbler
It’s another glorious morning in San Diego, the sun shining out of a cloudless blue sky. Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live somewhere where you couldn’t ride all year around, Utah perhaps. I shudder, knowing I would hate it. The only bad thing about our climate is that it appeals to everyone, which is why Southern California is getting so fucking busy now. Traffic flowing freely on the freeways is a distant memory. Thank fuck I ride a bike and lane splitting is allowed, else I often think I’d never get anywhere.
“What’s up with you, Brother?” Salem kicks out a chair and sits down opposite me, placing his coffee on the table.
“Not a lot,” I answer honestly. I’m just letting a very edible breakfast of bacon and eggs digest, the cooking of which Patsy supervised. Under her tuition, the food in the clubhouse has taken a huge step forward. Eva’s cookery skills are okay, but she’s not always around. As for the rest of the sweet butts, their food is only just edible. Dart’s woman isn’t around much, not since she’s had the baby, and tends to focus on her kids.
“Where did you disappear to last night?”
“Same as always, Brother. Out for a ride.” The truth, but maybe not all of it. It seems to suffice as he changes the subject.
“Lost and Patsy are going out looking at houses.”
At Salem’s announcement, I narrow my eyes. “Kind of got used to her living in the clubhouse.”
“Chow’s improved, that’s for sure.” Salem grins. “Still, it shows he’s starting to believe no one’s after her anymore. Must be a relief for them both.”
I can’t see what’s wrong with living at the clubhouse. Sure, I’ve got my own house, but I rarely visit it. It had seemed the right thing to do years back, but I admit, I feel lonely staying there. Fuck knows why I keep it, but the mortgage is paid off, so may as well hang onto it. Perhaps ready it for a time when I can no longer ride and need to leave the club, but hell, I’d prefer to go out with my boots on, and riding on my baby. Thinking of which I pose a question, “I’ll be heading down to the Harley store later, you want to come for a ride?”
“Nah, I’ve got to finish up that custom build. The owner wants to pick it up this afternoon. And I don’t know why you’re bothering, you can’t fit anything else on that bike.”
“Could still change something,” I tell him, while seriously thinking about it.
“What are you two planning, world domination?” Pennywise comes over, puts his hand on my shoulder for a second, then moves over to Salem and slaps him none too gently on his back. It makes Salem’s coffee spill over the table.
“Prospect!” Pennywise yells. “Clean this fuckin’ place up.” He points to the puddle of spilled beverage, and Connor comes over at a run. As any good prospect should, he cleans up the coffee carefully and with a smile.
“Grumbler’s off to the store again.” Salem nods at me.
Pennywise rolls his eyes. “What are
