Page 31 of Iron Hearts

By the end of the day, we’d all wound up at this burger place, stuffing our faces, having a laugh over some of the more stupid shit and swapping war stories about the night before.

“Thenthismotherfucker right here…” FOCUS stabbed a finger in Pud’s direction. “Pretty much drops trow and starts pissing all over the poor fucker he knocked right the fuck out. And all I can think isget a load of that dick!” He held up his hands and leaned back in his seat like praise be to the good lord above for bringing him this bounty. “Swear to God, if he ain’t got a boner and he’s that fucking big.Fuck, we gotta get him in front of some lights, get the cameras rolling – you know what I’m sayin’? We could make some damn good money.”

All the guys from every chapter were falling out laughing except Kash, who was squirming in his seat and looking downright tempestuous.

“What’s the problem, Kash?” Renegade asked, and Kash’s expression soured further.

“Man, I just wanna get back down to Ocala and inside my ol’ lady. No offense, but after a scrap like that, it’s all I can fuckin’ think about.”

“Don’t you worry. We’re heading right on out from here,” The Bishop told his man.

“Speaking of pussy,” Sundown said with a grin. “I heard you made off with the blonde bar chick. How’dthatgo?”

All eyes were on me, and I shifted in my seat.

“Man, it ain’t like that. She’s barely twenty-four,” I said with a shrug.

“So?” Highway, the road captain for Jacksonville, said.

“Last time I checked, anything over the age of eighteen was both legal and acceptable,” Creed, the Jacksonville president, said.

“I know,” I said with a laugh. “But it wasn’t like that.”

I explained the whole thing, how she was just trying to make it, about her mom and three siblings. How she’d helped me out. Not just keeping me from getting shot, but also how she’d lied to the cops and fudged some of the details. How she was going to bat for us on our side as a witness, for all the good it might do, seeing as she’d been smacked around by a Scorpion the night before. I mean, biased much?

Some impressed looks went around the tables that’d been pushed together to accommodate three chapters of the Royal Bastards in the joint we were at, and some silent and thoughtful nodding threaded through, too.

“Still, I’d like to shoot my shot I think – if y’all don’t mind,” I said. Mostly because Raritywasa rare beauty, and I didn’t want too much competition nor any of these guys bugging the fuck out of her when I was already half sweet on her.

“So you going to see her again?” someone asked, but I couldn’t tell who.

“Yeah, I think I might,” I said.

“Not at the Iron Horse,” someone else said, and Renegade snorted.

“What’s that?” I asked.

“We’ve been ‘trespassed’ off the property,” he said, puttingtrespassedinto air quotes with his fingers.

I laughed. “Like they’re gonna remember any one of our faces if we go in there slick-backed.”

“That’s what I was thinkin’ too,” Shadow said, grinning.

The Bishop stood. “Well, gentlemen, it’s been a good time. Let us know if you need anything. Gotta get in the wind so this big beast can get his dick wet.”

“Yep, it’s been swell,” Creed said. “But the swelling’s gone down some and it’s time for us to make for home, too.”

There were nods around the table and we settled up our bill with the establishment, tipping well above board for all their hard work in feeding our hangry horde on the fly.

We rode home, Ocala splitting off to go their way, Jacksonville riding with us as far as our exit before waving and heading on up further to their home base.

Renegade gave the signal as we hit the St. Augustine city limits that we could all fuck off back to our respective homes if we wanted to. I was relieved about that. I just wanted another shower and to put something on the developing sunburn across my shoulders and down my arms from riding with no shirt all damn day.

I lived in a small but neatly kept apartment in a big house two streets away from the lighthouse.

The house was owned by a rich fuck who owned a bunch of fast-food franchises. He and his wife only wintered down here in Florida, a pair of regular snowbirds. All spring and summer the place was a vacation rental through one of those online deals. They liked having me around to make sure that shit was kept low key and respectful in their home. Other than the odd rager I called in to let ‘em know about, I was pretty well left to my own devices in the carriage house apartment set back and to the left of the house.

I went in and dropped my keys in the bowl on the table just inside the front door. I hung up my cut on the hook I’d set in the wall above that and set about emptying my pockets. Change? In the bowl. Receipts? In the little trash can I kept by the door. Wallet? On the table. Random cash? In the bowl.

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