Page 13 of Paladin's Hell

Chapter 5

Hellfire

The decision for me to have a houseguest or two is mine and mine alone. But the suggestion of Paladin patching over needs a club vote.

As I reach the clubhouse, I walk in shaking sleet off my hat and jacket, and strip off my waterproof riding trousers in the foyer, putting them over my peg. I smile quickly to myself, wondering if the lad knows what he’ll be giving up for this. Sure, it rains in Tucson, but it’s always a lot warmer.

“Hey, Prez. Getting nasty out there.”

“Bomber.” I slap my hand on his back. “Yeah, reckon it will start freezing soon.” Apart from myself, Bomber’s one of the other two remaining members from the original club. He’s older than me, and sometimes you can hear his bones creaking, though he swears it’s the weather and nothing to do with his age. We all turn a blind eye to the fact he drives a truck in the winter months rather than riding his bike.

“Jeannie was wonderin’ how Moira is. Been some time since she’s visited the clubhouse, Hell.”

It has. His comment makes my brow furrow as I try to remember when she was last here. Moira used to be a fixture in the club, over the past year, she’s hardly visited at all. “Moira’s…” Fine, I was going to tell him. But he’s married to her best friend. “Fuck it, I don’t know Bomber. She says the right things, but she’s breaking inside and I don’t know what to do to help her.”

“Brother, have you talked to her?”

Sure, we talk all the time. Don’t we? “I think it’s just we’re all growing older, things changing. Bodies changing. That shit can hit hard.”

“Sure can.” Bomber’s nodding. “Just asked, ‘cos Jeannie wants to know if there’s anything she can do.”

“You know Moira, Brother. Deals with shit by herself.” She’d cut Jeannie out when it had happened, as though it had all been her fault—which it had in a way. Took years to get back to being friendly with her. Girls seem good enough friends nowadays, but don’t live in each other’s pockets.

He gives me a hard look. “Well, if it would help, we could all go out together. Not here, somewhere neutral. Give the girls a chance to catch up.”

I nod slowly, thinking. A night out might give Moira something to look forward to. “Might take you up on that, Brother.”

Side by side we enter the clubroom. Jeannie waves from her space at the bar, she’s laughing at something Sparky, our road captain has just said. Bomber makes a beeline for her, making her laugh harder as he bends her over his arm and kisses her. I hide my grin when his hands discreetly go to the middle of his back as he straightens up. Getting older, Brother. Sucks doesn’t it?

“Prez? A word?”

“Sure, VP.” Demon, my son, comes over. “What’s up?”

As he starts an explanation of an incident at our tattoo parlour the previous night, I listen, my first impulse is to laugh, but then I realise it could be serious. “Shit,” I say when he’s finished. “Didn’t they notice he was drunk off his ass?”

“Didn’t appear that way.”

“He’s going to sue?”

“He’s going to try. Lizard’s offered to ink it over for free.”

I shake my head, “Didn’t the fact he wanted a naked pussy tatted over his heart give away he wasn’t all there? Fuck. Labia and all?”

“It was done delicately,” Demon stands up for the tattooist. “The outside was a flower. Some of his best work he says.”

“Jeez.” I’m just hoping we don’t get bad publicity. Mind you, if the tat was done well, might start a new trend. “Thanks for the heads up, VP.”

“Sure.” I watch him step away. I’m proud as fuck of him. Like me, he had no helping hand or favours. Was voted in as he was popular with the men, and they all trust him. Deserves to be at my right hand. I’m pleased I had the honour of watching him grow from a baby into a man. Time comes I ever step down, there’s no doubt he’ll be taking my place at the head of the table. Also, no doubt, that since he’s well aware of the shit I deal with daily, I know he’s in no hurry to get there.

Putting my fingers to my mouth I blow a loud whistle, then point my hand toward the back of the room, and the doorway leading to church. One by one my brothers follow me in.

Thunder, our sergeant-at-arms takes his seat to my right, Mace, who’s been the enforcer since Ingot was killed six months ago, sits next to him. Opposite is Buzzard, our secretary-come-treasurer. Sparky is next, then Rusty, the other old-timer with predictable red hair which hasn’t started to grey at all. Beside him is Ink, inaptly named as he’s got no tattoos anywhere on his body, not even the Satan’s Devils’ patch. On the other side of the table sits Lizard, Cad, Taser, Pyro and last, at the end, Bomber.

I bang the gavel. “Over to you, Buzz.”

Buzzard quickly runs through the state of our businesses. The tattoo parlour, the strip club, the bowling alley we’ve not long opened, and, of course, our auto-shop. Got a good rep for building custom bikes there. I listen carefully, all seems well and good.

Pyro raises his hand. “Prez, got more discrepancies with the stock take.”

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