Page 41 of Trick or Treat

“How long do you think it’ll be before it’s opened up again?” Race asked.

“At least a couple of hours.” The firefighter scratched at his chin. Seeing a helicopter land on the other side of the pile up, he amended his timeline. “Well, make that at least three.” Race thanked the guy before he was called away by another firefighter.

“Well, shit,” Race grumbled as he rolled up his window.

Well shit was right, Trick was thinking. With this accident, it was going to be cutting it close to pick up Keegan.

“There was a diner about ten miles back if you want to wait it out there,” Jackson suggested.

“Might as well. Sitting here for three hours having to smell Jed ain’t gonna cut it.” Race executed a tight turn and headed back the way they came. To make matters worse, it started snowing.

“Fucking weatherman got it wrong again. He said it wasn’t going to snow today,” Jed commented, absently looking out the window.

Race pulled into the diner’s parking lot and found a spot to park. Before they could pile out, Jed asked for the body spray. He jumped out, sprayed a decent-sized cloud around himself and tossed it back in the backseat to put away later. They all followed Race through the front door and immediately noted how full it was. He spotted a booth toward the front window that was in the process of being wiped clean. As soon as the busboy left, they all took a seat at the table. Trick liked the view this particular table offered because it would allow them to keep an eye on the weather as they killed time waiting for the highway to clear.

A woman who appeared to be in her mid-thirties dressed in a pink uniform with a white apron came to take their orders. Race, Jackson and Trick opted to order breakfast and coffee, while Jed went for a cheeseburger, fries and a Coke.

“What did you guys think about Chance’s idea of bringing in another Black Horsemen chapter as a support club?” Race asked after she walked away.

“I don’t know,” Jackson replied. “I mean, it’s worked out well with Chance’s club, and he’s always been a straight shooter. I don’t think he’d suggest bringing on another chapter if he didn’t believe it would be a good fit for everyone.”

Race nodded his head. “Yeah. I think you’re right. We’ll bring it to the table and see what everyone else thinks about it. If they’re interested, we’ll set something up and meet with them.”

“We still patching in Chris, Lance and Darren?” Trick asked.

“Yeah. We need to do that soon.” Race scratched at his scruffy chin. “Chris’s idea to open a tattoo shop sounds good.”

“Have you seen some of his drawings?” Jackson asked without waiting for a reply. “They’re phenomenal. That guy is going to bring in some serious cash once he gets established.”

Jed laughed. “Yeah. He’s amazing. Did you hear what he wants to name the shop?”

“No. What’s he want to name it?” Race asked.

“Ink Envy.”

“I like that. Sounds pretty cool.” Race nodded his head. “We need to get this all rolling. We find a building for him to set up shop in yet?”

“Yeah. There’s an open space two doors down from where Calliope’s friend Bellamy has her shop. The guy who was renting the space from us is moving out of town to take care of his sick dad. Chris could start setting up as soon as we vote him in.” Jackson filled them in.

The club owned a whole row of buildings along that street. They rented one store front to Bellamy George. She owned a women’s boutique, which was just a fancy word for store. There was a bookstore on one side of her, a hair salon on the other and the space Jackson was talking about was on the other side of the salon. It would be a perfect place to set up Chris’s tattoo shop.

Trick sat back in his chair and grimaced. His back stung a little at the contact. He’d forgotten about the marks Teresa had left down his back while he’d been fucking her last night. He had to admit, she’d been a lot of fun in the sack, getting each other off a few times, both of them feeling drained but satisfied. Damn, he was tired. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d gotten more than a few hours of sleep at a time. He’d go to bed completely exhausted but wake a few hours later missing Lindsey and horny as hell from dreaming about fucking her again.

It pissed him off that he kept comparing every woman to Lindsey and it had to stop. The woman had made it clear. There was no future for them. She was an elementary school teacher and he was a biker who belonged to the Sons of Redemption MC. They were like oil and water. Except when they were in bed. Fuck! And there he went, circling back to Lindsey.

Seeing Jed plop into the seat next to Race with a huge smile on his face drew Trick’s attention from his own distracted thoughts.

“Where have you been?” Jackson asked. The man had disappeared as soon as their orders had been taken. They’d all assumed he’d gone to the bathroom.

“Fucking our waitress in the women’s restroom.” He wiggled his brows up and down like a teenager.

“Oh my God!” Jackson laughed. “Haven’t you heard about pacing yourself? You fuck so much I can’t believe your dick hasn’t fallen off yet.”

“Well that explains why our food hasn’t come out yet,” Race accused. “If my food’s cold, I’m going to be pissed.”

“And how did she not see all the lip prints on your chest?” Trick was curious how Jed pulled that one off.

“I kept my shirt on and did her from behind in one of the stalls.”

---