Page 15 of Paladin's Hell

“Really?” Demon raises his eyebrow.

I shrug, not deigning to answer. Nor reminding him what goes on in the club, stays in the club. Nothing a son should tell his mother. The tightening of his face conveys his opinion.

I rap on the bar top. Runt, our newest prospect comes running over, quickly fulfilling my request for a drink. I’ll only have a couple, even if I’m not riding tonight. Being president I’m always on call, and need to stay relatively sober.

“Prez.”

Swinging around I greet my brother. “Pyro. How’s it going?”

He grimaces slightly. “Yeah, well, I might have picked up a ticket.”

“Might have, or have?” My eyes roll. Seems it should be pretty clear-cut one way or the other to me.

His mouth curves, “Have.”

“You get caught carryin’ or something?”

“Nah, only had just under an ounce on me.” He’s over twenty-one, he can legally carry an ounce of marijuana in Colorado.

“So what’s the problem?”

A shrug, “Left me a bit short, that’s all. Can I get an advance on my wages?”

I jerk my head toward the treasurer standing in a group across the other side of the room. “Ask Buzzard.” Why the fuck he came to me is beyond me.

It’s always the same when I stay in the clubhouse. One by one brothers approach, all wanting to share their problems. Lizard’s got a bitch problem, Ink’s bike’s got a weird noise, and Rusty, well, the winter’s making his arthritis act up. Yeah, they all look to me as some kind of god who can solve all their problems. It starts to grate that there’s no one here who wants to know mine.

Another slowly drunk beer, and I feel I’ve given about as much of myself as I can. “Runt. Get a bottle of whisky up to my room.” I’ll only drink one or two, but feel I deserve a nightcap.

“Shall I send Bella up?” Demon asks through gritted teeth.

Slapping his back, I take pity on him. Leaning into him, I speak quietly into his ear. “How many times have I cheated on your mom, Son?”

His eyes narrow. “Not seen you with anyone, Dad. But Mom thinks…”

“I know what your mom believes,” I reply with a sigh. “Gonna have words with her soon.”

“Don’t like seeing her upset.”

Demon, despite his name, has always been a good son. I’m glad to know he sticks up for his mother, but in this case, there’s a good reason he’s got no need to worry at all. He couldn’t be barking up a more different tree. I just haven’t yet decided how to explain it to my wife, and she’s the one who needs to know first. It’s no one else’s business.

Runt’s left the bar. A good prospect, there’ll already be a bottle of my favourite spirit waiting for me. One more nod toward Demon, and I’m making my way across the room to the stairs, my progress happily unimpeded.

I half-smile as I watch Bella giving Mace an enthusiastic blow job on the couch. Guess she hadn’t been waiting for a summons from me after all. Then, none of the club girls would expect anything different. For thirty-six years I’ve remained faithful to my wife.

I climb the steps and make my way to the President’s Suite. It’s not the same one my father used, and doubles as my bedroom and office. My father. There’s not been a word invented to describe just how much of a bastard he was, I reflect, stripping out of my clothes. I take the bottle and glass over to my bedside table then pull back the covers, pouring myself a shot before getting into bed, and leaning back against the pillows, my arms folded behind my head.

I’ve never cheated on Moira. I never would. There’s a good reason that when I became president, I had all the shit in my father’s room burned, the room turned into storage. The memories can still make me seethe with anger, a rage that will never be quenched. It should never have happened.

I hadn’t waited long to call Moira after I’d first met her that day when she’d been with Jeannie. Our first date, a ride where I had no problem having her up behind me on my bike. I already knew she was special and was going to mean something to me. I also quickly realised she was no club girl, and I needed to take things slow.

So I’d dated Moira. Courted her. Yeah, me, a burly biker. From the moment she first rode with her arms held fast around my waist, she was going to be mine. She’d have to wait, I was only a prospect. Prospects weren’t allowed near club girls, or permitted to take an old lady. Instead they had to make do with their hand until they were patched in. With my father being President, all eyes were on me to slip up. I needed the members to be certain my sole focus was gaining my patch and becoming a full member of the club.

I wouldn’t have started anything with Moira had I not known I was close, I knew it, sensed it. Even though Blackie, my father, had ensured I was given a rough ride, I’d come through every piece of shit tossed at me with flying colours.

Soon I would be patched in, and then I’d bring Moira to the club as my old lady, and everyone would know she was mine.

She was a virgin, I wanted her first time to be special, was willing to wait, even though my cock tried to persuade me differently every time I saw her. I was proud of the way I held back, but she was unlike anyone I’d ever met. That look of innocence and wonder in her eyes? Never wanted that to go out. Never wanted her to feel anything other than the only person in the world to me. She was precious. Priceless.

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