“No more than usual,” I say with an easy smile, knowing what my part is for the club. What’s expected of me. I’m the clown, the jokester, here to make the mood light. Got no problem with the role. Everyone’s got to play their part. Hell, most of the time, I don’t even have to pretend to smile. I enjoy life and find shit funny at the most inappropriate times. It makes sense to have a guy like me who loves to smile and laugh—and talk. Can’t forget that last part. My big mouth’s gotten me into enough fights as it is, even without trying. But when Idotry? Man, that’s where the fun really begins.
But today I don’t feel like playing a role. I’m too tired. I love my club, this family I’m in, but even I get tired. I just want to lie down for like a month. Setting up the training facility up north took longer than expected. And I had to supervise the training and a few missions, even if it was all done locally. It was exhausting. The mental game of keeping one step ahead of your enemy takes a toll. I’m good at it, but damn if I don’t need a break. The place up north ain’t perfect, but Law could hear the strain it was putting on me. I had no problem running most of it, but now I just need time to recharge. Which is why I came home. I did what I could and made sure the mother club could access everything off-site, but our sister chapter in North Dakota is going to take point on running the mercenary part for the club.
We finally named it: Operation Hell Hound. We track like a damn dog, seeking and destroying, and take those to Hell who need it. Also doesn’t hurt that the initials spell out OHH, my personal favorite. So much fun to drag out the name when someone asks how things go, and I’m like “Ohh, it’s fine.” Gets me smirking every time.
“Is he really dead?”
Her words have me dropping my arm from around her shoulders and turning to her head-on, which she mirrors. I lift one eyebrow, surprised as shit that she’s talking about this. But as I look over at a girl I’ve known a long-ass time, I see what she’s hiding. She has her arms folded in, hugging herself in a way to protect against the words yet to come out of my mouth. The small scar by her hairline from that attempt on her life, all due tohim.The bastard who tried to take us all out once he realized a Hound is nothing without his family. Ruby might just be the daughter of the president, but she’s smart and knows things. It’s easy to believe that she would know our enemy, Duke, who we believe is dead. While we try to keep things to club members only, with a word here, a word there, and if you’ve got half enough smarts like Ruby, you’ll get the answer you’re searching for.
“Found nothing to say otherwise.”
Her lips pinch as her eyebrows narrow at me. It’s not the answer she wants, but it’s all I’m going to give her. I debriefed with Law about what I knew once I made it to Texas before going up north and checking in on the police raid that broke up a human trafficking ring. The reports we got were correct—almost all involved in the kidnapping and trafficking were killed. I just couldn’t ever confirm if Duke was one of them. Half the building was set on fire, and a few of thevictims also got caught in it, which wasn’t included in the initial report. Of course the police wouldn’t make that part known; it makes them look bad—or hell, just human. Civilian casualties happen more often than not, just no one likes to talk about it.
“Always knew you were a kidder, but I never pegged you to be an asshole.”
I take her glare in stride as she stomps away. Ruby is still a child in this world. Just because she plays with the big kids and is going to college doesn’t mean she’s ready for all the pains of the world yet. She’s gotten a taste and knows more than most, but if I can, I’ll hide the boogeyman from her. We all will.
“What pissed her off?”
I look behind me and see Casper moving toward me with beers from the kitchen, one for me and another for himself.
“The usual. Mad she ain’t in the club.” If we ever changed the rules, Ruby would be the first to sign up for club life. And she would fucking excel at it.
Casper harrumphs at my lame joke and takes a swig of his beer. It’s one of our brands. Bulldog is more than a VP for the club; he’s a damn good brewmaster. While we’ve always been into some of the easier ways to make money, we don’t deal in drugs or the skin trade. And the beer business ain’t easy to break into, but with the recipes Bulldog has from all the years he played at making home brew, we now take in a pretty penny of income. Helps that we just cracked the international market, making it easier for the club to use the beer business as a reason for some of our flight charters to remote international locations for our mercenary gig. We started that right after Chains got his woman back.
The boys were getting bored with the typical things and needed a bit more use for their skills. We don’t allow just anyone to be a Hound; you have to bring in a skill, one we can use. Casper’s the sniper. Bulldog’s got the bark and sense to never let shit go when it’s needed. I bring my planning skills, and of course, my charm. Can’t forget that.
“It’s been quiet without you, man. Damn quiet.”
“Ahh, you saying you missed me?”
He snorts. “Nah, just missed seeing you get hit in the face for that mouth of yours.”
I nod, because it happens. More than most. And yeah, usually from a brother, but I got no ill will. I know my mouth runs away from me at times. Other times, I do it simply to break the tension in the room, which might still get me a fist to the face, but at least people are smiling at the end. Got no problem being the laughingstock. It’s all part of the role I play.
“How are the newlyweds?” I say with a grin. I tried to make it back for Bulldog and Lady’s wedding, but there just wasn’t an opening that worked. Don’t think the VP was too mad about it, since I sent him a case of Johnnie Walker, the good stuff he likes.
Now it’s Casper that’s grinning. “Which ones?”
I shake my head at that. “Still can’t believe I didn’t know. I should have figured with all the hiding around the club those two were doing when Gator’s dad first showed up. But I thought it would have flamed out.”
“So did we all. Don’t know any man—or woman, for that matter—who can put up with Bulldog’s ma like Mike can. Margret is a real bitch when she wants to be.” He shakes his head as he takes another drink. “But seriously, Bulldog stilldenies it all. Gator is staying out of it, as he trusts his dad to know what he’s doing. Don’t think they’ve done the whole family meal thing yet. No one talks about it because we don’t want to end up on the VP’s shit list. Unless you were here to witness it, it’s almost like it never happened.”
I laugh. “Well, then, you and Ruby shouldn’t have told me if you wanted it to stay buried.”
“Asshole,” he says with a shake of his head and a smile.
Yes, I am. And no way am I going to let a happily married couple hide their love, or whatever Margret and Mike have. I’m already frothing at the mouth with all the ideas I have to bring out said couple.
As I look over the yard once more, a new face catches my attention. Okay, it’s not the face but the ink on her arm. So much color going all up and down her arm and not a lick in a flower design. The top half looks like two skeletons fighting as they get sucked into a bright blue second dimension, and the bottom half is fire and brimstone. I can’t tell from this location about the other details, but it looks badass.
“I see you spotted our new tenant.”
I look at Casper, who’s looking at the girl. I can’t see her face from this angle, mostly because she’s pulled her hair over her shoulder, blocking it. I’m not one to judge, but I would say she’s in serious need of a dye job. Not that she has the line of blonde vs. brown, but her roots are showing and then some. I might sound like a pussy, but I’ve been around women long enough, and I’ve picked up on a few things. Mostly when they aren’t taking care of themselves like they were. If this girl spent hours in a tattoo chair—and no doubt she did to get that level of detail and color on her arm—thenshe probably took care of her looks as well at one point. And I’ve got an itch to find out why she stopped.
“Tenant?”
“Yeah, Flint got the town houses fixed up a few months back, and we just booked our first renter.” He points his beer at the tatted woman. “She and her kid showed up last week, and Maddy invited them to the party since her son is the same age as Teddy.”
