Page 8 of Ruthless Son

“You should see them at dinner time, they’re like a horde of demons converging on a virgin sacrifice.” Jenna laughed, her head thrown back. “You’d think they were starved. It’s ridiculous.”

“Hey, we’re growing boys,” an unfamiliar voice piped up. A grinning man, lean and stunning, leaned forward, his elbows resting on the table amongst the detritus of their meal. His short Mohawk gave him an aura of mischief, but his dark eyes sparked with secrets that I never wanted to know.

“You’re not growing, VP, you've been the same size since I met you,” Rex replied.

“There are other parts of me that grow,” he winked, “and obviously you’re overcompensating for something with those giant ass arms of yours.”

Rex growled at the man, “Everything’s big on me, wanna see?”

“I don’t need you to prove your dick size to me, I’ve seen little Rex in the changing rooms, remember?” His emphasis on ‘little’ had Rex frowning, the other men laughed at their back and forth, and I couldn’t help joining in with the laughter. Their banter was eerily similar to Millie and me when we met for our weekly dinners.

Or, used to meet. We’d barely spoken in the months that she’d upped and left for America to move in with the boyfriend that she’d known for five minutes. We’d tried to persuade her not to go, but that had pushed the stubborn brat into wanting to leave more.

“I’m sure Mia doesn’t want to listen to your dick-measuring contest.” The deep growl of the bald man penetrated my inner musings, his black eyes twinkling at the men around the table.

Murmurs of ‘sorry Prez’ and ‘sorry Mia’ hit me, and though they apologized, it still sounded like they were joking, humor laced their words and smiles dotted the faces of those around me.

I knew they were in a gang—a club—their leather vests were testament to that. I’d noticed them last night, and this morning the black material gleamed with evidence of their lives. I wasn’t stupid. I knew what ‘VP’ meant, and the fact they just called the big bald man ‘Prez’ highlighted a whole other aspect to their relationship. They treated his words with reverence and respect, listening and hanging on to everything he said.

The marks on their arms were identical. Brands of barbed wire ringed their upper left bicep. Some—like Rex—had tattoos framing the raised skin, emphasizing the symbol. Some arms were clean of ink, showing off the brand with nothing to distract from it.

Their cuts framed their shoulders, showing the outside world who they were and where they belonged. They wore them with pride and, looking around the diner, they were given a wide berth too.

I couldn’t keep up with all the names and faces, though every vest held a name and position. Rex’s read Sergeant at Arms. Sly’s read ‘Tech Officer’.

I had absolutely no idea what a tech officer would do, and the trickster didn’t seem like the person to take anything seriously. I’d met him twice now, and everything that came out of his mouth was a joke of some kind—that or he was hitting on me.

The clock kept ticking, and my watch now read 9:45. I’d spent long enough being entertained by these guys, I had to get myself moving.

Digging my purse out, I pulled out a $20 bill, and placed it on the table. As I slid it under the receipt, hisses of outrage accompanied by glowering men had me leaning back in my chair, scared I’d insulted them in some way.

The prez glared at the money as if it was about to jump up and bite him in the face, and I watched confused, as Rex picked up the money and waved it in front of me.

“Rex, sort your woman out,” the prez declared.

“I’m not his woman.” Rex’s eyebrows lowered over his bright blue eyes, now darkened with his annoyance.

“You don't pay!” He practically slapped the cash down in front of me, leaning back to cross his thick arms over his chest. Slurps of coffee filled the silence, and I looked over to Jenna to see her trying her best to hide her smile behind her cup.

“They’re cavemen, darlin’, they won’t ever let you pay for anything, it’s an affront to their manliness.”

Her man grunted beside her, and I rolled my eyes at the insulted expressions around me. Anyone would think I’d just insulted their mama. Gingerly, I picked up the money and stuck it back in my purse, as soon as it was tucked away, their glowers cleared. Smiles replaced glares. My eyebrows shot into my hairline at the mercurial men.

“I know, right.” Jenna laughed. “You should see them fighting to open my door, they’re so old-fashioned. Not that I’m complaining, I haven’t had to buy myself food since I met them.”

“How long ago was that?” I enquired.

“Ohh,” she tapped a manicured finger against her glossy lips playfully, “how long has it been, baby?” She turned toward the man whose arm draped possessively around her shoulders.

“Twenty-one years,” he responded jovially, pulling her tightly into his side. “I would’ve got less time for murder.”

She slapped him lightly, her eyes bright with laughter and love as she looked up at the big man. Twenty-one years?! She didn’t look much older than me. She must have seen my mouth hang agape as Jenna’s light laugh had her eyes crinkling at the corners. “You know redheads don’t go gray.” She fluffed her bright curls, the ringlets falling around her face to make her look even younger.

Gathering my things, I stood, slinging my bag over my shoulder. “Well, thank you for breakfast. It’s been… entertaining.” I smiled down at the horde of leather-clad men. I never thought in a million years that my trip out to see my sister would have me eating breakfast my first morning here with a biker gang.

Rex wiped his mouth, chucking the used tissue onto a plate. “Give Jenna your stuff and I’ll drive you.” He stood and climbed out of the booth, dropping a roll of cash on the table, then nodded at the men gathered.

“What stuff?” He loomed over me, I still got a kick out of having a man be able to look down on me. Butterflies swirled in my stomach as he was close enough to see the shadow of stubble across his jaw.

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