Page 34 of Being Lost

“I think what Lost is getting at is that if we extend our hospitality to Patsy, it could bring heat down on the club. I for one vote to protect her.” My VP stares me in the eye as others look incredulous.

“Is there any fuckin’ doubt?” Smoker’s shaking his head. It’s the first time he’s spoken all meeting, and it triggers a coughing fit now.

My head likewise moves side to side as comments fly from all around me, including Scribe noting things have been far too quiet and boring lately, and taking on a drug lord could make life more exciting. I simultaneously shake my head and roll my eyes.

“Is Dan working?” my VP queries.

He is. I hadn’t thought about that. “As a security guard at a mall.”

“He’ll have to give that up. For now.”

He will. But I doubt it was a vocation.

“I can find work for idle hands,” Salem offers.

I raise my chin in appreciation. That’s better than having the kid just hanging around. “I’ll talk to him.”

Bones clears his throat. “Is it a coincidence that Shark’s reappeared now?”

At the mention of the name, I’m half surprised men don’t make the sign of the cross. Their expressions, though, speak volumes. While I hate the name being brought up, Bones had been right to suggest it. After the initial impact of the reminder of the time we’d all prefer to forget, the men’s faces turn from angry to contemplative.

“Drugs being the connection?” Scribe looks particularly thoughtful.

I rest my hands on the table. “Shark’s got reason to hate us. He’s a man adrift without a club and he could very well blame us rather than himself. I don’t like that he’s surfaced right now, but the only thing about it is timing. I can’t see how he could be in with this Alder.”

“Worth bearing in mind though, Prez.” Dart waves toward Bones, acknowledging that he raised the issue. “Can’t disregard anything.”

“I’ll note it.” Scribe picks up his pen.

“I’ll kill him if I see him again,” Smoker murmurs.

“Not too fast,” Salem amends. “We’ll need to question him first.”

“Another thought, Prez?” Bones raises his chin. “We’ve seen Shark, what if he’s regrouped with the other six of them? What if we’ve got more than just Alder coming for us?”

Grumbler’s hand smashes down onto the table. “They show their fuckin’ faces and I’m with Smoker, they’re fuckin’ dead.”

“Painfully,” Salem promises, but adds, “but not before I talk to them.” The enforcer has his own particular ways of conducting a conversation.

I lower my head into my hands. “Just because there’s one bad apple that turned up, doesn’t mean there’s more. But I take the point, it could be the whole darn barrel. Keep eyes and ears open. I don’t think you’re right, Bones, but still, we can’t just dismiss it.” I’ve had too much bad news already today, like the woman I’d like warming my bed is actively being sought by a drug lord. I pick up the gavel and bang it. “Church dismissed.”

Quickly, before anyone can stop me and heap more problems onto my plate, I stand and walk to the door, covering the distance out to the clubroom in just a few short strides. The sound of a thumping beat meets my ears first, not unusual by itself, but I catch movement out of the corner of my eye and come to a dead halt. I’d been making my way toward the stairs, but now I find I won’t have to make the climb to find the woman I’m seeking.

I’d thought Patsy might be hiding in her room, unsure of her place in the clubhouse of an MC. Or, if she’d ventured downstairs, I’d find her sitting talking with the only person she knows here, her son. What I hadn’t expected to see was her in tight-fitting leggings wrapped around the fucking stripper pole with Alex obviously giving her a lesson.

Sure, she’s more ungainly than graceful as Alex tries to tell her what to do. As I watch her attempt to do as instructed, she fails, instead ending up sprawled in a heap on the floor, bent double with laughter.

I watch for a moment as she tries once again, admiring that she’s actually quite supple. It’s clear she hasn’t the faintest idea of technique, but tries valiantly to hold the pole, wrap her leg around it and spin, but she falls once again, and again finds it amusing. It’s the sexiest thing I’ve seen for years. Even more so than watching the strippers who, under Alex’s tutelage, have become quite proficient.

The sound of the men filing out of church disturbs her, and she gets to her feet, brushing herself off. When she spies me staring, her face glows red.

Discretely adjusting myself, I walk over, hoping my jeans are disguising the hard-on I’m now sporting.

“I, er… Alex was just showing me…”

“Fuckin’ sexy, babe.” I lean in close as I speak softly, then I turn to Alex and wink. “So, you’re going to make a pole dancer out of Patsy?”

Alex grins, and gestures to herself. “If I can do it, anyone can.”

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