Page 74 of Master's Rise
Freedom plops down on the chair. “That kid is a lot to deal with.”
I laugh and walk into the bathroom to put on makeup. “She’s cute and hardly spoke. What are you going to do when you have kids?”
“I’ll ask the nanny when it happens.” She cracks me up.
I get liner and gloss on and look at my hair. Everyone always talks about it as if it’s some kind of glorious. It’s pin-straight and fine. I have a lot but there’s not much I can do with it. Curlicue wisps don’t hold, ponytails are boring and clips fall out. I brush it and leave it alone. “I’m done, my hair is my hair.” I shrug.
“You’ll want it up for games. You’re on the back of his bike and some are messy.” Freedom shakes her head.
“I’ll bring a tie. I wish I had your head of hair. Nothing stays in mine.”
She shakes her head. “You could pigtail it.”
I walk out of the room. She’d kick my ass for pegging her a finger. The one and only time I did, she hit a pressure point and I was on the floor.
~*~*
Cort
Our ride feels more meaningful today. Crow died six years ago today. At his marker, I get off my bike and swear I feel him close. “Brother, I miss the fuck out of you. It wasn’t all smooth sailing but we’re ready for what’s next. Thank you for showing the way. I can’t say I’ve always seen it, but lately it’s all I can see. Know you did that for us and for the Brotherhood. Love ya, Brother.”
I stand beside the marker and nod to Raid.
The line of bikes winds around a bend. Not all of the Brothers are from the city Club, but everyone knew Crow or of him. My Officers stand by my side as the Brothers run single file throwing respect.
Hitting the slab, we finally make it in front of the Brothers. There are a lot of fucking Brothers to pass making me proud. They were crawling, most laughing as we pass them.
“They’re practicing.” Jinx laughs.
“They might as well go home, they don’t stand a chance.” Falcon is in combat mode. He’ll be like this the rest of the day.
Raid has to egg him on, of course. “They don’t or you don’t.”
“Fuck, knock it off.” Hade doesn’t want to play.
I shake my head. Every time the games go up, Falcon is determined to win. I swear he practices for them at night when we’re all sleeping.
“He adds pressure to himself every time. That’s how the Boss always wins,” Brinks has me smiling. He’s right. If Falcon wasn’t so focused on the win, he’d beat me at anything on a bike. I never even have to open my mouth.
The growl that comes through has me clamping my jaw tight. “He practices for this too.” Falcon tells me I’m right, he does practice.
I can’t hold it in and laugh. “Not even once, Brother.”
They all jump in and I keep my mouth shut. I play because I’d look like a pussy if I didn’t. Winning isn’t really important when it comes to games. It’s fun too but the goal isn’t the win. Why would anyone need the win on the weenie bite? It’s not like we’d ever have a gun pointed at our heads to get our partner fed while riding. Wet boxers is another that doesn’t strike me as a particularly inspiring win story. It’s not like you can walk around telling Brothers you won and telling women makes you look like an ass.
Web gets me out of that line of thinking. “He doesn’t even care if he wins. Do you, Boss?”
“Nah, it’s fun and I play to play. I don’t always win either.”
They give Falcon more shit over that now. Jesus, they’ll have him strung so tight he’ll blow at the end. Maybe he needs to.
I just start talking and they quiet as I do. “Crow said the games weren’t about being the best, it’s about the fun, the laughing, the camaraderie, the Brotherhood. Celebrating the moments of awe when a Brother shows skill in your presence gives us our stories to relive. Sometimes it’s about the job, but the best stories are about the surprise of that skill witnessed by a group in the middle of doing nothing but sharing a beer.”
“See that, Falcon, you got plenty of those stories. You took two Six-Guns while spinning your bike. That’s a skill that had Ops holding their breath, then cheering,” Amos says getting everyone talking about that.
I just knew I’d hear that one again. At least they’re not talking about Seren anymore.
While they throw stories around, I think about my ol’ lady. I always called Jules my wife but haven’t once thought of Seren as my wife. She’s an ol’ lady all the way. And she’s mine. She was floored by the office and new Club. Seeing it from her eyes, getting her little smiles, questions and comments had me relieved. It bothered me that the old Club didn’t spark enough interest for even one question. Last night she was full of them. I think she finally realized it isn’t all about the new Club, it’s about the Brotherhood. That, of course, makes me proud.
