Page 3 of Coast

“Get ready for some blue hairs. It’s a fifty-plus community.”

“Christ,” Huck said, shaking his head. “Fifty is a blue hair in your mind, huh? Right. Well, at least we know.”

“Cops are gonna be living here,” I said. “All the noise complaints. Guess we can hope most of ‘em are hard of hearing and won’t wear their hearing aids.”

“Always looking on the bright side, huh?” he asked.

“They probably don’t know how to set up doorbell cameras,” I added.

“Still. Looks like we are gonna have to make some changes around here. Especially when it comes to packing the cars heading to Shady Valley and the trucks going to Zayn.”

“Yeah. Old folks are always quick to call the cops over the smallest shit,” I said, finishing my smoke and snuffing it out.

Huck followed me into the kitchen where Eddie was hard at work at breakfast, getting an assist from some random womanI recognized from the night before. Her blonde hair was pulled into a messy bun and her tight turquoise party dress was covered with a tee that was so big it had to belong to York.

“Old people community,” I announced to everyone as they walked in.

“That’ll be fun,” Velle said, grabbing a cup of coffee as Kylo grabbed a grape out of the fruit bowl on the table and handed one to the macaw.

“While I got you all here,” Huck said, glancing at the girl who was cutting up strawberries, then deciding to continue regardless. “We have some new prospects making their way over this week.”

“Someone been hanging around I haven’t seen?” Eddie asked.

“No. Came across these two through Seeley. The Cider brothers,” he said, lips twitching in advance of saying the next part. “Caymen and Dixon.”

“No fucking shit,” I said, a laugh escaping me.

“What?” York asked, head tipped to the side.

“Gotta put it together,” Huck said.

“Caymen… Cider,” I supplied. “Came inside her. And dicks inside her.”

“Those can’t be their government names,” Velle said, shaking his head.

“They are,” Huck said.

“From birth?” Velle asked.

“From birth.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have some questions for them about their family,” Velle said.

He was our resident profiler slash therapist slash mind-reader. Which was probably why I didn’t usually have one-on-one conversations with the guy. I didn’t need anyone up in my head. I tried not to get up in my own damn head too much.

“Yeah, as usual, I want to hear what everyone here thinks of them,” Huck said. “Especially if you hear either of them say something that you know I won’t like. Won’t give ‘em their prospect cuts until you all give me your approval.”

I, for one, was happy for some new blood. Since Alaric and Levee had shacked up with their women, we were getting short on single men to party with. More guys meant we could pull more girls from the bars and clubs to come hang at the clubhouse to party.

Plus, it loosened up some of our time, since the new guys would pick up a lot of the grunt work that was put on the rest of us: mowing the lawn, cleaning the house, doing the laundry—all the chores that none of us loved but had to do.

I wanted to be in a biker club for the fighting and the fucking, not scrubbing the bathroom.

“Do we know anything else about the brothers?” Velle asked.

“Not much. They have been known for being rough-and-tumble types. Seeley said he has heard about them from the old neighborhood.”

“Are they connected to a crew there?”

---