Page 18 of Gotta Dig Deep
“Sure thing.” He swapped his empty for a full beer, leaned back in the chair, then stretched out his feet to the fire as he dismissed her. “Night.”
He sat the rest of the evening like that, switching from beer to water after a couple more hours. As the fire died down, so did the party, members pairing off with girls or not, as suited them. Those who lived at the clubhouse disappeared earliest, leaving the married members who had homes to the drinks and music. He knew every face, every name, knew their families and kids and as he kept a vigil of sorts next to the slowly dying fire, he pulled the pleasure of that knowledge around him like a blanket.
It wasn’t an epiphany because he’d already recognized this fact.
Still, knowing he’d found a family kept him warmer than the fire.
Realizing he was the final member still in the backyard, he directed one of the prospects to dump water from a cooler on the embers.
Then Horse went into the house, found his bed, and slept with a smile on his face.
***
“You don’t understand.” Blackie was fuming and all Horse could do was listen. “She’s always been mine.”
Today had been eye opening on many fronts.
First had been the eviction of Dale. The man must have expected a night’s sleep to have mitigated his sentence, but Blackie had disabused him of that idea immediately when he’d found out the man hadn’t even bothered to pack up his personal things.
The air had been blue with the anger of the club’s founder and president. Horse had located an empty piece of wall next to Duane where they could both watch as Blackie removed the man with shirt by shirt thrown out the window. By the time Blackie had gotten to the drawer where the man kept his smalls, Dale’s incredulity had turned to belief, and he was trying to stay ahead of Blackie’s angry hands by tossing clothing into a hastily retrieved suitcase.
Last surprise had been that Dale left walking, using his two feet for locomotion rather than two wheels. Duane’s mutter was quiet, but enlightening. “Bike was supposed to be a lease-to-own, but shoulda realized he wasn’t a keeper when he didn’t maintain his payments.” Blackie had counted it in default and remanded the bike into Oaky’s possession for now.
Then just as things had settled down, they’d heard the unmistakable rumble of a bike’s exhaust out in front of the clubhouse.
Exiting the building Horse had expected to find Dale and whatever friends he could scrounge up on short notice, surprised when instead it had been a lone couple, man and woman riding double on a stately old Indian motorcycle.
Blackie had taken front of their group as he confronted them, and something—a thing he now knew was the woman’s pregnant condition—had unraveled every bit of the big man’s control. His diving strike to the rider’s jaw had knocked him clean off the bike and half across the broad driveway. Then scarcely even two minutes later, Blackie had been inviting them both inside.
Peaches was the woman, Andy the man, and although their positions on the bike might have indicated otherwise, they weren’t a couple at all. Peaches was the name no one had been willing to speak when Horse had asked about Blackie’s single status. Given the advanced state of her pregnancy, Horse knew Blackie wasn’t the father, unless he’d been sneaking out without making it clear to the club.
Horse wasn’t the only one who’d listened at the doorway to the kitchen, only catching every other word but still enough to put the puzzle together. He’d have put money on Reena being the reason this Peaches had run off, the club whore either not knowing or not caring that Blackie had hooked his future to this woman who looked like sunlight made flesh.
After a quick glance around at the men also snooping, their expressions filled with unmistakable elation, Horse whispered to Duane, “This Peaches, she’s important to Blackie?” Clear as the truth in the man’s voice when he spoke to her, but Horse wanted to know more. “Think this is a chance for him to reel her back in?”
“Man better. He doesn’t, that one in there will take care of her for himself. I’m thinking this little trip was to test Blackie’s mettle, and not a small bit a chance to see if the smolder she had would leap back to flame. Blackie’s proven himself in how he is with Peaches.”
“And you’d have to be deaf to not hear how she feels.” Horse stepped backwards. “Gonna give them the illusion of privacy, at least. Think it’s too soon to have a prospect clean Dale’s room?”
“Definitely not too soon.” Duane turned with Horse and walked beside him back through the house. “All the current prospects got housing elsewhere, but would make a good guest lodging.”
“On the main floor, too. That’ll keep what happened with me from happening anywhere else.”
Duane laughed so hard he bent double, hands propped on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “You really—” Breath wheezed out of him and he shook his head. “Fucking hell. You really think you coppin’ that room on the second floor was anything other than purpose-led from Blackie? You’d kept his blood brother from killing his ass while that fuckin’ prospect stood around with a thumb up his ass. The room he’d been holding just in case his brother wised-up about what path was best.” Swiping at his face with the backs of his hands, Duane cut himself off midgale of laughter. “Horse, I thought you were smart.”
“Sometimes.” He shook his head. “It’s just hard to believe that things were ordained by Blackie back that far ago.”
“You really think—know what, doesn’t matter. You know now, and I suspect you’ve really known for a while. Regardless, you’re patched and locked in now. Time to get your dominance in on things.” Duane arched backwards, face to the ceiling as he yelled, “Prospect.”
Running feet from two different directions preceded the men who converged on Duane’s position. Horse shook his head again.
“This patchholder has a job for you. Do it to his specifications, and not a whit less. He won’t have to tell me how it was done, because you’ll do it yourselves, hear me?” Duane tracked the movement of the two men’s heads. “Now git, and get busy.”
Horse sauntered away with complete confidence he’d be followed. Not because Duane told the men to do his bidding, but because they knew him and trusted him.
Leadin’s better and easier when it’s from a place of belief than fear.
***
