Page 2 of Pumpkin
What the fuck was going on?
Now that he understood his brothers were taking pictures ofhimalone, he felt a bit self-conscious of his nudity. Vodka moved the pumpkin over onto his lap to cover up his bits. He looked back at his brothers.
“Did you see her leave? Which way did she go?” She had to have just left, right? He’d been curled around her only minutes ago.
Cage lifted an amused eyebrow. “Who, your new girlfriend? Are we calling her Jackie?”
Vodka glared at him. Cage hadn’t officially gotten his rockers yet, but he’d been voted in. His plans for a patch-in party were more like an orgy, so he’d scheduled it for a Friday night to give everyone two full days to recover before having to return to work Monday morning.
Vodka looked to Grumpy. The man wasn’t reallygrumpy. He was quiet and solemn. He ran the club’s automobile repair shop, where Vodka worked as a tow truck driver and part-time mechanic when Grumpyneeded him to fill in. The man’s road name had been bestowed upon him by Scotty, Lucky’s preteen son with Down syndrome. Story went, when Scotty had first met Grumpy, the man had answered his question with a ‘humph’ sound rather than actual words. From that moment on, he’d been ‘Uncle Grumpy’ to the lovable kid, even as a prospect. And the name had stuck, dubbing Jesse Bell the road name of ‘Grumpy’ when he’d patched over. The club officers hadn’t even given him a choice.
Sometimes names were chosen and sometimes names were given. Vodka was lucky he’d been able to choose his road name. Because Cage’s legal name was so difficult to pronounce, he’d been ‘Cage’ since he’d arrived a year ago in his sick 1969 Mustang. Vodka had only been a prospect a few weeks before Cage had joined him.
Vodka thought about the name ‘Jackie’ but knew that still wasn’t right. Maybe Dory? But he knew even that wasn’t right. Then he glanced down at the pumpkin in his lap and realized what Cage had been referring to.
“You fucker!” Vodka got to his feet, keeping the pumpkin firmly in front of his junk. “I’m being serious. Where did she go?”
“Who?” more than one of them asked.
“Don’t give me that bullshit!” Vodka shouted. “The woman I was with last night! Where did she go?”
Realizing the joke was done, most of them put their phones down. Cage was the only one still snapping pictures.
“Look, man,” Bulldog said with a serious undertone. “We saw no woman. We came out here to get some fresh air this morning and foundyouall snuggled up with your new girlfriend.”
“So she was here?” How could they have seen his ‘new girlfriend’ but not seen any woman?
Bulldog glanced down pointedly at the pumpkin covering Vodka’s groin. “I truly hope you two will be very happy together, Pumpkin, but I am far too hungover to be out here when the sun comes up. I’m going to bed.”
He raised his middle finger over his bald head as he headed back inside the clubhouse.
Happy together? Vodka looked down at the pumpkin Bulldog had gestured to. “You fucker!” he shouted after his SAA. “I didn’t fuck a pumpkin last night! There was a woman here!” Vodka looked back at the skeptical faces of his brothers. “There was! I swear!”
He just couldn’t remember much about who she was, her name, or where she was from. But there wasdefinitelya woman with him the night before. He was sure of it. They’d had a real connection.
But that begged the questions, why had she left, where had she gone, and why would she leave a pumpkin decoration in her place?
“Whatever you say, Pumpkin,” Demo laughed. He pulled his phone out of his back pocket and turned the screen around. “We have the proof otherwise.”
Vodka’s eyes narrowed as he drew closer, and then his jaw dropped. Sure enough, right there on Demo’s screen was a picture of him cuddled up naked with a fucking pumpkin. What the fuck? This was like a weird, hungover version ofThe Twilight Zone. Was he still dreaming? He better fucking be dreaming.
Bear was busy tapping away on his phone. “And…sent.”
“To who?” Vodka demanded.
“Everyone,” the large burly man answered. “Oh, and I’m also going to need your cut back.”
Vodka’s heart stopped. “What, why?” Surely having sex out in the pavilion wasn’t a violation of the club’s bylaws. He knew them backwards and forwards, and there was nothing in them saying that they couldn’t indulge in adult activities on club property so long as no club kids or family members were present.
“Well, Pumpkin, you’re going to need a new road name patch.”
Vodka finally registered that not once had anyone called him by his road name that morning. Every one of them had used the word ‘pumpkin’ when addressing him.
“No!” Vodka shouted, appalled. “No! Absolutely not! I am Vodka! My road name is Vodka!”
Bear snorted. “Not anymore.”
Vodka’s cheeks flamed and he clutched the pumpkin even closer tohim, mostly in fear that he would drop it. “Guys, come on! Joke’s over! Iwill notbe called ‘Pumpkin’!”
