Page 62 of Bear

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Bear

“Nashville are here,” Chaos says.

I join the rest of my brothers and we walk outside to meet my old club. All fifteen of them line up their bikes alongside ours, and Anvil and Chaos greet one another. I step forward to say hello to my old prez.

“You made it through the morning, I see.”

I clap my hand in his and he pulls me in for a hug, slapping me on the back. “By the skin of my teeth.”

“You could do worse,” he says to Chaos. “I got half a mind to order his ass back to Tennessee.”

“I was thinking about it this morning when I found out he’d brought this shit to my doorstep, but I think we’re better with him than without, rogue incidents aside.”

“They don’t come more loyal than Bear—”

“Naw, shit Prez. You’re making me fuckin’ blush.”

“You didn’t let me finish, asshole. Shame he’s pussy-whipped, though, because that’s when all common sense goes out the window.”

“Yeah, I’m startin’ to see that.”

“Bear,” a grating voice calls, and I glance beyond Anvil to my old Sergeant at Arms Butch. Mckenna leans against the railing by his bike and gives me a fluttering wave. I grin. Of course Butch brought her here. Those fuckers aren’t happy unless they’re causing discord wherever they go. Her smile is all razor blades and heartache as she heads toward me, which makes me realize that I may have singlehandedly started a war with another club and a white supremacist group over Tink, but my little angry feminist is still less fuckin’ trouble than this bitch.

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