I was damn proud of my club. Everyone had made it out to show GQ support. Our brother needed to see we were all here, to know we had his back.
“How’s he doing, Prez?” Tequila, my sergeant at arms, asked. “Is he awake?”
“No. Out like a sleeping baby,” I replied, then turned toward Quino. “Did you talk to Skillz about standing guard?”
“Yeah, and he’s gonna keep Corcoran with him.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Do you think my cuz is ready? He’s only been prospecting for a couple of months.”
“Shouldn’t be hard standing against a wall, but if you don’t think he’s ready…”
“I’m ready.” Corcoran appeared from behind me. “I served in the Army, y’know?”
“That means nothing to me. Being in an MC is not the same as the military.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “And what are you doing eavesdropping on your president.”
“You’re my cousin first. My blood.” He pounded his puffed-up chest, which didn’t impress me one bit.
“Wrong answer, cabrón. I’ll let you guard GQ with Skillz and when you get back to the club, you can clean all our bikes. Polish and wax, too.” I slapped him upside the head.
Feeling restless, I went to the opposite end to get away from my crew. I had pent up stress I needed to work off. Anyone of these nurses could do the job in a closet or the bathroom. I wasn’t picky. I’d help them onto their knees and fuck their pretty mouths quickly so they could return to their station.
“Hey, you okay?”
I nodded at Quino. “This ain’t right. It’s like they wanted to kill him.”
“And that’s why we’ll make it right.” He firmly gripped my shoulder. “GQ is going to recover and be a thousand percent better than before. He’s going to drive us crazy with his scars. You just watch. He’ll be a pain in everyone’s ass in no time.”
I chuckled. “I can’t wait.”
“Careful what you wish for because you might regret it.”
Quino always could make me feel better. He had wisdom beyond his years. We’d grown up together. Saw a lot of shit and survived it all back in the day. Naturally, I made him my VP. I could count on him, and he had the balls to call me out when I went off the rails.
“Tell them we’re leaving in an hour.” The sooner we got back to the clubhouse, I could regroup, release some stress with a club girl, then start my own investigation on GQ’s accident.
“You got it, Jefe.” Quino stalked toward the others and took charge. He’d get all the guys in and out to see GQ efficiently, then we could make our way home.
I turned my attention to the windows. Overcast days were fucking depressing. My crew and I had better make it to the clubhouse before the rain came. Nobody liked to ride while getting splashed by speeding cars.
Was today Friday the thirteenth? With GQ and the bad weather, I was preparing for the unexpected. It was times like this I was glad I never took on an old lady. I had no time to devote to a wife or be distracted. I was way too overprotective and a worry wart as Mama Virgie would say. She knew me best as most mothers knew their kids.
Speaking of kids… they weren’t for me. I liked them well enough, so long as they weren’t mine. The life I lived was too dangerous for children. That was why I didn’t have any at my age; thirty-seven. It would have been irresponsible of me to bring a baby into a cruel and evil world.
What the fuck are you thinking about, Jefe? Get your head out of the clouds and get back to business.
I scrubbed my hands up and down my scruffy cheeks. Clearly, I was way too emotional after seeing GQ. His injuries were a reminder that anything could happen to any one of us. Tomorrow wasn’t promised. Just another reason to stick to the single life…
NorCal’s been in a drought since I was in diapers. But today, fucking today, it was downpouring on my crew and me. For three miles, we’d been battling the onslaught.
Swerving around puddles.
Avoiding cars the best we could. I doubted drivers noticed us through the sheets of rain.
Thank you, Mother Nature. You’re a bitch.
As it was, we hardly ever went on Interstate 5. It was a personal choice. We valued our fucking lives and didn’t go out looking for trouble.
But with the rain, our safety came first. A side road was more dangerous than a possible run in with our rivals. Most would love a shot at fucking with us.
