While the club might have known everything that went on with my dad, Bass and I weren’t privy to things here. Things going on with Duke are so volatile right now that the club doesn’t put it past him to find a way to get access to us through technology. Just like we did with him the first couple go-arounds we interacted with him. Unless it’s vital, club business stays inside the club when it comes to Duke. The rest of our work is free rein, like going international for beer and becoming mercenaries for the right reason and price. None of that needs to be kept under lock and key as to what we’re doing, only when we’re on an operation—then that shit is locked tighter than Fort Knox. We won’t jeopardize a Hound at any cost. If we know our covers have been blown, we pull our men before we look for another way to finish the job. Our loyalty lies with each other.
“Nothing new. Guy’s in the wind. We got Fairy doing some, um… interviews, I guess is the right word.” He scratches the back of his neck as he chuckles. “Not sure what’s funnier to watch, her finding out someone is lying just with a simple conversation or Mad Max beating the shit out of them for lying to his old lady. I mean, we want them to lie so we can catch them in it, but he doesn’t seem to get it. He doesn’t like when people are mean to his Fairy, and he deems lying as something unforgivable.”
I grunt. I also think the same, but Flint has a point. We need information, and Fairy is one of the best options we have for tracking down leads. Human lie detector at its finest. Just glad we have her on our side. Mad Max too. That guy is one bulked-out dude. Maybe Fairy was right and we should have called him Beast.
We head back to the clubhouse’s main area, and I see a few other brothers have come in. It wasn’t vacant before, but word must have gotten out, because half the damn club is surrounding our new guest. And my dad is eating that shit up like a fresh batch of cookies. The entire group is laughing, and when they see me, a few laugh even harder. I take it for what it is, my dad just giving me shit by spreading stories. He won’t say too much, just enough to get more than a few laughs from my brothers, who will probably forget it all in a month. He did the same thing with a few of my commanding officers when he met them. Everyone knew who my dad was, even if I didn’t follow him into the same branch.
My dad didn’t give a shit what branch I was in, just as long as I came home safe and was treated right. Well, as right as any soldier. Which in the Army basically means treated like a dog and then spit out and expected to show respect and say thank you for all we’d sacrificed in the name of freedom. Don’t get me wrong, I love my country, and if war breaks out, I’ll be one of the first to reenlist to fight for what’s needed. Just don’t care much for the politics involved and the other bureaucracy bullshit that no one talks about but everyone sees. The treatment of certain people over others also pisses me off. Just because you’re an officer doesn’t mean you have a thousand soldiers to bring you coffee and mow your lawn. Just like if you choose enlistment doesn’t mean you don’t have to take orders from someone younger and less experienced than you because of rank. Both sides have to respect the other and not abuse it.
Like being a prospect and a patched member of the club. Sure, there was bitch duty and things that pushed me. But as a prospect, I also had to step in and help. See what was needed and not just tell everyone what an asshole they were for being a dick about smiling when they gave me a shit job to do. Thank God no one forced me to drive eight hours to open a damn beer. Heard about another guy with the sister chapter in Seattle having to do it. It was only shitty as fuck because it was the day of his kid’s high school graduation and he had to miss it. Guess it worked out in the end, because he punched the fucker who’d called him in the face and told him to do it after he disrespected that guy’s kid with a few words, and his prez saw that it went too far. Guy went from prospect to fully patched sergeant at arms for his prez within a month.
I nod to my dad as I make my way to the end of the bar, away from his current fan club. He needs this, and I could just use a quiet place to drink, knowing things have finally settled down enough for him.
“Hi, bestie.”
I shake my head. I should have known quiet was the last thing I would get. Especially as Kitten, Flint’s old lady, takes a seat on one side of me and Flint flanks her on the other.
“Not besties. And hi.”
It’s now become a game more than anything to deny our friendship. Flint’s good-natured about it, but I know he wouldn’t like it in the least if we really were best friends. He likes to be the sole focus of his lady’s attention, and who wouldn’t want that? I know I do. Fucking hell, do I want that. And now that I’m back in town, I need to get back to my goal ofgettingit.
As if the fate of the universe is also rooting me on, I watch as Kitten answers her ringing phone with a smile, glancing at me with a waggle of her eyebrows.
“Hey, Bailey, what’s up?”
I grab one of the beers the prospect places in front of me and Flint as well as a Diet Coke for Kitten. I drink while pretending that I’m not listening to her conversation. It’s a bit too loud in here, with the stories going on at the other end with my dad, but I manage to catch what Kitten’s saying.
“Sure, how can I help?”
I share a look with Flint, as he’s full-on listening and not even pretending like my weak ass.
“Gidget’s pregnant? That’s awesome. Wait a minute, that sucks. She made a commitment to you. She can’t just not come. What, she’s like a few days preggers? You can still run and do jumps, and go in the mud, and… damn, yeah, probably not a good idea for a little bean to be getting all that thrown at them when they’re just starting to hang on to her little ovaries.”
I snort at that. Flint’s lip even twitches. Kitten is awesome as shit with numbers, but I don’t think she remembers health class and how things work with babies. Not that I really know, but I remember enough to know eggs come out of the ovaries. Can’t fault her too much, though. She’s still remembering bits of her past, and I doubt health class was a topic she cared much to relearn.
“No, I don’t have plans. I was going to come anyway to cheer you on, so I don’t mind.” She pauses and lifts her head to look at Flint with a tilt to it. “No, he isn’t doing anything either. He can be there.” There’s another pause before she spares me a side glance and then looks over the club. “Yeah, I think I can find some more.”
Flint raises a single eyebrow at whatever he’s being volunteered for but doesn’t tell her no. Don’t think he’s ever told her no, not unless it’s about her safety. Pretty sure she called him “Captain Jackass” for a while when they first met, and he can be one for sure. But that was before things changed and he claimed her as his old lady. Rumor has it she didn’t really get a choice, which is typical Hound behavior. Once we see the one we want, we take her. Of course, we have to go through the bull of getting out of our own heads and doing stupid shit first before we get wise. But then we don’t let go, ever. Which is exactly what I plan on doing. Just as soon as I convince Bailey that I’m more than just her best friend’s babysitter.
“Of course, sweetie, no worries. Why don’t you give Jordan a call and spread the word? See you tomorrow. Love you.” Kitten hangs up and smiles as she sees her favorite drink in front of her, then chugs half of it.
“What did you sign us up for, and am I going to hate it like last time?” Flint asks as he gives his girl a pointed look.
“Oh, hush, you loved the children’s hospital. Besides, every little girl in there saw you as her knight in shining armor. And I think I made up for the small mess they made on you. I mean, you weren’t telling me no when I put my mouth on–”
Flint cups her mouth, and I just chuckle. I’m used to the shit that flies out of Kitten’s mouth without the filter. Not that I want to know what all she did to make him happy about it.
“Didn’t say I didn’t like that part.” He pointedly glares at her before removing his hand, and I see her smiling widely. “Just not a fan of getting sticky stuff on me.”
“It was a pancake breakfast. Things are bound to get sticky if you put kids and syrup in the same room.” She has a point. “And yes, you probably will get sticky this time, but I’ll be sticky, too, so we can do it in the shower and get clean while you’re getting me dirty.” Her eyebrows waggle in a goofy way as Flint rolls his eyes, but I still notice him adjust in his seat. Probably to release the pressure the thought is giving him.
“Miles and Gidget backed out of the mud run tomorrow because they’re both sick. Those were the last two on the team who had to cancel on her. She had a few from ourMproduction group join, but everyone had to drop for one reason or another. Jordan even said he would run it with her when the others dropped, as she needs at least four in her group to be in the team division she signed up for.”
“Why doesn’t she just run it on her own?” I ask with genuine curiosity.
“Registration issues,” she says as she looks over at me and then back to her guy. “They can only allow so many to do the race, and single racer spots filled up first. Bailey’s kids picked this event for her just shy of two months ago. Only team spots were left. She doesn’t want to let the kids down by not doing her part to show that things can get done with a little discomfort but have an enormous impact. That’s one of her biggest goals with teaching, showing how the hard work really pays off. The kids do the work to get through school. She picks a task they decide on so she can be the physical proof they need. You don’t mind doing a small 10K obstacle course, do you? I figure with all the GI Joe stuff you do, it would be fine.” She ends with a shrug as she reaches for her drink and takes a long pull from it.
Flint looks up at the ceiling and sighs in exhaustion. I feel this ain’t a new conversation for them. “Fucking hell, Jules, we ain’t no damn GI Joes.” Oh, man, he used her real name. You know a brother’s frustrated at his woman when he goes about calling her something other than the name he gave her.
