Page 88 of Paladin's Hell

Reaching out I pick up a slice of toast. “Bikers are bikers, aren’t they?”

“This club is not the same as what you’re used to. Oh, not so much nowadays, but back then, when we first came to the club, it was very different.” Jeannie settles a tray of coffee on the table in front of us and sits down. “There are only a few old-timers left.”

“Let me guess. Hell, of course, Bomber and Rusty.”

“Correct.”

“What happened?” Toast consumed, I lean forward to pick up a coffee.

“Ancient history,” Mo tries to dismiss it.

Jeannie hip bumps her. “Less of the ancient, Mo. Makes me feel old.” She turns to me. “Furnace was the VP, when the old Prez, Blackie died, he took over. Eventually made Hellfire his VP, then when Furnace crashed and burned, Hell became Prez. Lost brothers over the years because of the shit we were into. Brothers were a different breed then, harder, they had to be, they lived life on the edge. Wasn’t unusual when they returned from a run without everyone with them. Hell wanted to take the club in a new direction, and when he took over, he seized his chance. He’d met up with Drummer, who’d become Prez of the Tucson chapter when his dad, Bastard had died. They both had ideas about starting a clean MC, so Hellfire brought this club into the Satan’s Devils.”

“Oh?” I had wondered how the two clubs had joined up.

“Best thing Hell ever did,” Mo agrees with a shudder. “Hated those days. Lockdowns were the norm for us then. Brothers getting killed or arrested. Those were dark times.”

“Thank fuck Bomber and Hell survived.”

“I’ll drink to that.” Mo raises her coffee cup. She looks around. “Is it getting hot in here, or is it me?”

“Must be you, I’m cold.” I’m with Jeannie. I’m not that warm myself. “It’s because you’re going through the change, dear,” Jeannie pats her friend’s arm as she continues, then adds with a wink. “Either that, or something got you all heated last night.”

Again Moira goes red. A short time later, Hellfire puts in an appearance. Surprising me when he crosses to the couch, leans over, places his hands either side of Moira’s head, and gives her a kiss worthy of a romance novel. I’ve not seen her stunned into silence before.

“Wow,” Jeannie says when he walks off, watching him enviously. “I could have me some of that.”

Moira slaps at her, and growls, “He’s mine, hands off.” Her evil stare has me giggling.

We talk about this and that. I help them with lunch, then we’re sitting back down. I’m a bit bored. In Tucson, the kids would have kept me busy. At last, out of the corner of my eye I see Pal walking by, but as Moira’s talking to me, I can’t be rude and leave her to go to him. A little while later, he’s walking past me again, this time, acknowledging me, but clearly indicating, he’s off to yet another meeting.

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