Page 97 of Clint & Ivy
“How’s the ceiling?” Elle asked, making Goldie laugh.
“It’s fine,” I said and then snorted. “I made sure to swallow.”
That comment won the applause I was hoping for from my new friends. As the foxes teased me about my sexual exploits, I watched Clint move from person to person around the backyard.
He could be a difficult man to read. His casual confidence hid his moods well. However, I promised myself that soon no secrets would exist between us.
CLINT
My first weekend withIvy cemented her into my life. The foxes bonded with her quickly, finding Ivy to be the right combination of sweet and sour. My club brothers realized she wasn’t a delicate flower they might accidentally squish. Everyone—including me—had assumed a lot about Ivy based on her size and past.
By Sunday, Ivy had started working on stripping down in front of me. She showed me the faint scars on her arms from when her fragile, premature newborn skin was marked by the IVs and medical tape.
My thoughts were on Ivy when I rode to southern Arkansas. The Black Rainbow MC had agreed to meet us at a bar in a town located on the border between our two states.
My uncle Devin was there when we rolled up early. Looking good for a man in his mid-forties, Devin held himself in the rigid way I noticed from a lot of retired military men.
Today, Devin wore the battered leather jacket Shay bought him years ago. His shoes were scuffed up, and his jeans looked a decade old. If my mom were here, she’d lecture him on pampering himself with decent clothes.
“The local cops know I’m in town. They aren’t saying or doing shit while this happens,” Devin assured me. “Do I need to sit in on this conversation, or can I walk across the street and get a McFlurry?”
“Enjoy your dessert,” I gestured toward the McDonald’s. “But if this meeting goes sideways, be careful not to spill your McFlurry while ducking.”
“Is that a genuine worry?”
“I don’t know, honestly. The president of this club got his ass handed to him by Ford years ago. There’s no way to be certain if he’s holding a grudge or not.”
Devin glanced at Elle, standing with the other Crimson Guard members. I knew he didn’t think his niece ought to be throwing down, especially now that she had Sutter.
Rather than start a debate he wouldn’t win, Devin kept his mouth shut and strolled across the small town’s main street.
As I entered the bar with our people, Rock walked around outside, searching for issues. He was rightfully paranoid. The Black Rainbow Motorcycle Club didn’t have a warm and fuzzy reputation.
Years ago, their former president and a dozen of their guys rode to Little Memphis after hitting up a club in the real Memphis. They planned to bully Joker into turning Little Memphis into a satellite chapter for the Black Rainbow MC.
“You’d work for us,” was apparently how Wrecker put it.
