“Sure you’re not,” Cutter said still laughing.
“You’re really giving her your property patch already, huh? I know the club gave approval but I figured you’d wait a while,” Viking said from his left.
Peanut turned to look at his friend, his jaw tightening. He didn’t want to get into it with Viking again. Things had been less tense between them over the past month since he’d come home one night to find Viking in the kitchen with Phoebe, suspiciously covered in flour. When he’d asked about it, Phoebe had brushed over the incident saying it was nothing to worry about before going back to pulling the chicken she’d been frying from the pan. He’d watched them suspiciously, but both had seemed relaxed and calm so he’d let it go. He still wasn’t convinced that Viking had given up his reservations about Phoebe but at least he wasn’t trying to convince him to walk away anymore.
“Yeah, I’m really giving it to her already. I might wait a little while because I don’t know if she’ll take it while being married to that fucker. I have a bad feeling she won’t. It bothers her that we are in a relationship while she’s still married to him. I really need Stan to find a legal loophole to her having to go back to the state she was in to divorce him. I want my patch on my woman so everyone knows to keep their fucking hands off.” Peanut ran a hand over the condensation on his beer, feeling helpless in the face of reality.
He knew Phoebe well enough now to determine that she wouldn’t allow herself to take his patch until she’d ended her marriage. He’d explained old ladies to her a few weeks ago hoping to feel out her feelings on the matter and what he’d learned had left him feeling annoyed. Not only had Johnny Smith put his hands on his woman, he’d effectively blocked Peanut from claiming her like he wanted to. She wouldn’t let him truly claim her until she was free of that son-of-a-bitch.
“Fuck, that’s harsh. How are you going to get her to wear it then?” Viking asked.
“I’ve got Stan working on filing the divorce in her state. He’s having the paperwork drawn up currently. I intend to take a little ride once he has those. I won’t be coming back without a signature,” Peanut grunted. He’d talked to the club lawyer, Stan, yesterday and he’d told Peanut that she’d be able to file for a quickie divorce because they didn’t have any assets to split or kids to worry about. He hadn’t told Stan that she was pregnant with the man’s kid and he wasn’t going to. Phoebe had already agreed to put him down on the birth certificate as the father of her child. She didn’t want Johnny having any claim on the kid. He wasn’t going to allow the man to get his hands on her or their boy ever again.
“When you take that ride let me know. I’ll keep you company,” Viking offered.
Peanut was surprised and he looked at him for a long moment wondering if he was up to something. He couldn’t be sure but from the steady eye contact and the way Viking’s expression never changed, he realized that he was serious.
“Yeah, I’d like that.”
Maybe whatever had happened in that kitchen that night had finally made Viking realize that Phoebe wasn’t a conniving bitch out to use him. It likely helped that Phoebe had invited him over to dinner nearly every night this month. He didn’t always show but he was there more than he wasn’t. He was glad that the two of them seemed to be getting along and he liked having his levelheaded friend back. Viking nodded and they turned back to the conversation going on in the clubhouse. The men were taking bets on a dart game between Hemp and Cutter. Both men were damned good at darts and it was always a 50/50 chance on who would win the game, which was always good entertainment. He tossed a twenty down on Cutter and spent the next hour trying to make Hemp miss. It was several hours later that he was climbed on his bike to head home. He’d just started the bike when Phoenix called out to him.
“Hey, I need to talk to you about something.” Phoenix motioned for him to follow him. Unsure what the man wanted he sighed and turned off his bike putting the kickstand down. He climbed off the bike and walked slowly back toward the clubhouse. He’d much rather head home to Phoebe but he knew he couldn’t let his personal needs to interfere with club business.
He followed Phoenix past the men who were still tossing back drinks and betting on Hemp and Cutter. He was surprised when Phoenix walked past his office leaving him wondering what the hell he wanted to talk to him about. He’d already had a long night. The Black Souls hadn’t found anything even though they’d been digging, and it was frustrating the hell out of all of them. Phoenix led him past Rage’s office and into the security feeds room. He frowned because he was a little confused about why Phoenix needed him in the security room. Phoenix entered the room and then looked at Frankie who was sitting in the room watching the cameras.
What the hell was going on?
“Bring it up,” Phoenix muttered.
Frankie punched a series of buttons until the screen showed the area around the clubhouse from a few days ago according to the date in the far right corner of the screen. Peanut watched the feed, wondering what the hell the man was trying to show him.
“There, stop it,” Phoenix said, and Frankie stopped the frame. Peanut leaned forward, frowning at the man who was lurking about half a click away from
