“I was so freaked out the first time,” Emmie said, smiling and rolling her eyes. “And Walsh hit me with that whole, ‘But you ride horses,’ bit. But it was my wedding day,” she said, “and I had no idea if he was as good at controlling that bike as I was at controlling horses.”
Wedding day? There was a story there, and Sam would have loved to know it.
“I bet you were three your first time,” Emmie said, nudging Ava.
“Five,” Ava said, face coloring with a slight blush. “I begged and begged, and Dad finally put me up in front of him, just to go down the street and back. I never knew to be afraid of them,” she said, honestly. “And then he would pick me up from school. And then Mercy.” She shrugged. “I’m pretty sure I was riding in the womb.”
She turned to Sam. “Okay, so, are you an old lady yet?” she asked, eyes glittering with mischief.
“Uh…” Sam had no idea. Was she? Didgirlfriendcount? Aidan had been willing to use that title. But did you have to be a wife in order to be an old lady?
“I think so,” Emmie said, smiling. “I think she is completely.”
“Me too,” Ava said, echoing the smile.
“You guys…”
“Trick-or-treat!”
Startled, Sam faced forward to see that Rottie and Mina’s two boys stood in front of her, loot bags at the ready. Both were dressed as little bikers, mini versions of their father, complete with lick-on tattoos.
Sam grinned and reached into the big candy bowl on the coffee table, coming out with generous handfuls of Butterfinger and Snickers for the kids. “You guys look fantastic. Very tough.”
They beamed.
“Like Daddy,” the little one said, and Sam wanted to say “aww.”
Behind them, Mina made an apologetic face.
“It’s fine,” Sam assured.
The boys moved down the line to Ava, then Emmie, earning praise and heaps of candy.
When they had moved on – Chanel and the other girls were making a fuss over them – Sam leaned into Ava and whispered, “I don’t want to know why they’re having to trick-or-treat at the clubhouse, do I?”
“The same reason Bonita’s in hog heaven in back watching my kids,” she said. “And no, you don’t.”
~*~
Their black ski masks had white skull faces painted on them; they wore all black, down to their leather gloves, so the guns seemed a part of them, arms that ended in weapons instead of hands. Aidan felt his gut clench and wondered if he’d be sick. He couldn’t enjoy this, not the way his brother-in-law did, no doubt smiling like an idiot under his mask up at the head of their little knot.
Some stray beam of light glinted along the steel handle of the sledgehammer Mercy carried. “You ready, Mikey?” he asked the shape right behind him.
The shape nodded. Then whispered one last emotionless order back to Aidan, Tango, and Carter. “If you aren’t comfortable with killing, keep your ass outside.”
Their orders werenotto kill.
But that didn’t mean Mercy and Michael wouldn’t turn shit sideways.
The sledge drew back. “On three.”
One.
Aidan took a last deep breath and willed his nerves to settle.
Two.
Was he really such a pussy that he couldn’t tolerate this side of club life? Was he so inadequate?
