Page 31 of Being Lost

She looks at him sadly, then turns to me. “Can you give me that assurance, Lost? Can you promise you’ll keep us safe? Or will I be burying my son for real if we stay here and face Alder?”

You’re going to fuck it up. You always do.I push Snake’s voice out of my head. “I can’t promise.” I give her the truth. “But at least, come to the clubhouse and take the chance to think this through. It will be safer than your staying here. If after we’ve discussed everything and decide it’s better for you to leave, you’ve lost nothing but gained a couple of day’s breathing space.”

“Can’t be fairer than that, Mom.” Dan implores her with his eyes. “You’ve no idea how much I want to take back my own name, start a new life, not under this new identity, but as the person I am. Your son and Beth’s brother.”

Patsy pushes her own plate away. I notice she’s only eaten half of it but suspect that’s down to the topic of conversation rather than my cooking skills. That’s one area where I’ve never been criticised. She stands, her eyes landing first on me, then on her son. She sighs in resignation. “Okay. If that’s what you want, Dan. We’ll go to the clubhouse and take a moment to decide what to do.”

As she goes to get dressed and pack, and Dan disappears to gather his stuff for their at least temporary move to the compound, I sit, deep in thought.

I think Patsy has been holding her tongue, biting back words she wants to say. That she doesn’t voice them makes her go up in my estimation. She must be scared, not just for her son, but for herself too.

It dawns on me that she hadn’t taken any persuasion to realise Alder was a clear and present danger to her son. A niggling idea takes hold at the back of my mind, wondering what she knows. Sure, he was responsible for leaving her son beaten close to death, but I’m starting to wonder if she knows more than she’s told. She’d known Alder before. It was twenty years or so back, but leopards do not change their spots. I decide I need to have a chat with Patsy, get her somewhere alone... My cock jerks. Jeez. What am I, a kid? Just the thought of one-on-one time with her and my body goes into overdrive.

I’m just looking for an excuse. What more could Patsy offer other than Alder’s a nasty piece of work? It’s Dan’s head that holds the answers to my questions. There must be something he knows that hasn’t already been said, and which is why Alder won’t stop until he knows for certain Connor Foster is dead.

As I’ve been lost in my thoughts, Dusty, who’d made himself scarce while we’d been talking, returns and shows he’s got a domestic side I hadn’t appreciated as he scrapes off the plates and stacks them in the dishwasher, then turns it on.

“What?” He catches me watching him, then shrugs. “You cooked, I clean. Isn’t this how it works?”

I laugh, then grow serious again. “No sign of anyone last night?”

“Nothing,” he informs me. “Curtis said all was quiet when he was doing the rounds. He didn’t see anyone out of place or anything suspicious. You get anything from the dude yesterday to worry you?”

That’s the problem. I did. I cast my eye down the hallway where the woman and her son had disappeared. “We’ll discuss it later in church.”

Catching on to what I’m not saying, Dusty nods. “Sure, Prez.”

Fifteen minutes later, Dan appears with a rucksack which looks half empty, followed a quarter of an hour later by Patsy with a case that’s bulging at the seams. I grin. All a man needs are a few pairs of underwear and a couple of t-shirts. Women? Well, who knows what they regard as the necessities for a couple of days away.

“I think I’ve got all I need.” Patsy bites her lip as she looks down at her case.

“I’ll send a prospect back if there’s anything you’ve forgotten,” I tell them. “Ready to go?” I take out my keys and toss them in my hands, now anxious to get moving.

To accommodate Dan’s longer legs, he sits shotgun, while Patsy climbs into the rear of the club’s truck that I’d brought along. Dusty and Curtis follow in the vehicle they’d brought last night.

In silence, we drive through San Diego. The residential and business areas fall behind as we drive into open country. Soon I make the turn into the gates of the compound and proceed along the roadway alongside the now pitted asphalt which used to be a runway. It’s the first hangar that had been converted to a clubhouse. There’s not much in the way of luxuries out here, but we’ve got amazing views out over the sprawling city below. On a clear day, there’s a good view of the Coronado Bridge and nearby Navy base.

Three years ago, we were pushed for space until the loss of nine members meant we had a few empty rooms in the main clubhouse. Even with the new prospects we’ve taken on, we can easily accommodate our two guests.

Dart’s been working on plans to add further accommodations to the rear of the second hangar. Optimistic for sure, but hey, the club won’t turn away the right kind of new members.

“This is nice.” Patsy looks around, saying the right words but from the expression on her face, she was hoping for more.

I sigh, thinking she’d be far happier somewhere like the compound the Tucson chapter has. Years back, they’d bought and restored a burned-out vacation resort complete with a swimming pool. We’ve got the climate that could do with a luxury like that, but Dart’s the only person with an old lady, and comfort takes a back seat for most of us. Often, I think the place needs more of a feminine touch. Of course we’ve got the whores, but they’re in no position to push for the finer things in life.

Yeah, from what I’ve seen in other chapters, a few more old ladies wouldn’t hurt. Still, I’m not leading from the front on that score. By the look on Patsy’s face, she’d not be particularly enamoured of where I live should I start something with her.Start something?

What the fuck am I thinking?

Patsy might provide me with inspiration for those times I rub one out, but I’ll just have to be content dreaming about what she was hiding under that robe. I like the woman, yes. She comes in a package that attracts me, but she’s certainly not one-night stand material. No, the man who courts and wins her would have to have something to offer, and that man isn’t me.

I’m Lost. I’m not in the market for an old lady, the thought never crossing my mind. I made that mistake once. I’m not going to drag another woman down, nor risk someone making demands on me that take me away from my club.

I heft her case out of the truck and shake my head when she goes to take it from me.

“I got it.” I smile at her. She won’t be carrying bags while I’m around. “It’s not much,” I point to the clubhouse ahead, “but it’s home.”

She laughs softly. “The clubhouse in Colorado is a converted steel mill, it’s not much better. But,” she turns and stares at the sight in front of her, “your views are to die for.”

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