Pee Bee

I stood with my arms folded in front of my chest and glanced around the shop. The fellas were all in attendance and everyone’s eyes were on Crip. I shifted my eyes to the back of Lefty’s kutte and drifted off to thoughts of Tegan’s soft tits against my back.

Initially, all I wanted to do was cause her to go through the same pain I went through. In my mind, butt-fucking her was the answer. Now, she had me intrigued. Or something.

She was very forthright about what she thought and how she felt, but on the other hand, was secretive and brief in some of her responses. The missing bits and pieces of information was enough to keep me wondering about who she truly was – and about her past.

It was the first time I could think of that I wanted to know more about a woman. There was no denying that I wanted to fuck her, but there was more to it than that. For one, her biker ex-boyfriend doing life in Pelican Bay had me intrigued.

“You fall asleep, Peeb?” Crip asked. The tone of his voice as he said my name brought me out of my daze.

I rubbed my index finger across my eye and looked up. “Huh?”

“Having a fucking meeting here, and it looked like you faded off on us. You need a nap? Want a blanket? I think there’s some animal crackers in the cupboard above the grinder. You can go lay down in the wash bay if you want to and nibble your fuckin’ snacks.”

Everyone laughed. Well, everyone except me.

Asshole.

I shook my head. “I’m good.”

“You find this boring?”

“Nope.”

He glared at me. “Think you could pay fucking attention? Is that too much to fucking ask?”

“I’m paying fuckin’ attention.”

“To Lefty’s ass, maybe. See if you can stay awake.”

“Wide awake, Boss.”

He crossed his arms. “What was I talking about?”

I waved my hand in his direction. “I’m listening.”

His glare continued. “What was I talking about?”

Crip and I were best friends, but often, and especially in front of the entire club, he put me on the spot. Every time he did it, it pissed me off.

“The Goblins bar fight.”

“Gremlins,” he said. “And then what?”

Half of the fellas glanced over their shoulders and looked at me. I felt like I was in kindergarten again, and Crip was Mrs. Kutler.

I clenched my jaw and locked eyes with him. “You said we should keep an eye out for any of those fuckers wearing new kuttes.”

“And then what?”

I shrugged. As far as I could remember, that was it. “That was it. At the first, you talked about the run up to Palm Springs. Before that was finances, and that bores everybody, Boss.”

“That’s what I thought,” he said. “Pay fucking attention. I’ll back up.”

He cleared his throat. “As I was saying, the Savages aren’t threatening us, but they are a threat. If you bump into more than two Savages on the road, and you’re alone, keep your head on a swivel. Beat feet to Pete’s bar or back here, they won’t bother following you into either of those places.”

“After that, Peeb, I said I was going to look over Pete’s surveillance videos and see if there are any good images of those dipshits that were in there the other night. If there is, I’ll print them and bring ‘em in. I’ll post ‘em up on the poker run board. One of ‘em kicked over the Sporty Peeb was riding, so if you recognize any of ‘em, speak up. Next was…”

He locked eyes with me. I returned a bug-eyed stare.

“The club needs to grow. We’ll never open our books to prospects, but if you know someone who’d make a good prospect, invite ‘em to a poker run, or to a barbeque. Let ‘em hang around and see how they react. If it looks like they’d make us a good Fucker, and only if they’d live up to our standards, vouch for ‘em. We need size. I want to keep this club as tight knit as it is now, don’t get me wrong. But, I want the southern half of this state to become an FFMC territory.” He looked at each of the men. “One that makes the asshole of any other patch-wearing club member pucker when he rides through here.”

Half the men raised their clenched fists in agreement. The rest either shouted or hoisted their bottles of beer.

I wasn’t impressed.

I liked the club just the way it was. Along with size, came uncertainty. With uncertainty, came risk.

I didn’t like taking risks.

“That’s all I’ve got, fellas. Any questions?”

“Got a cousin in Palm Springs,” Lefty said. “Like to stay up there for a few days. If I ride up and don’t ride back, we still good?”

“We are now,” Crip said with a nod. “No sense in you riding back here, and then heading right back up there to see your cousin.”

“Appreciate it.”

“Anyone else?”

“Remember any of them Gremlins fuckers names?” Stretch asked.

“Funny thing. The front of their kuttes didn’t have region, road name, rank, in memory of, nothing. My guess is they were a bunch of wannabes, and that’ll be the last we hear of ‘em.”

Stretch nodded. “Just wondering.”

“Anyone else?”

No one said a word.

“Meeting adjourned,” Crip said. “Help yourself to a beer, courtesy of Shocker. Peeb, come here for a minute.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

It wasn’t enough that he’d embarrassed me in front of the men, now he was going to chew me out in private. At times it felt like he thought he was raising me. I had one asshole father, I didn’t need two.

I stepped to his side. “What?”

“Lose the attitude, asshole.”

“You didn’t have to fuck with me in front of the fellas, Crip,” I complained. “Seems like you just like doing it sometimes.”

“How long you been in the club, princess?”

I glared at him. “See? That was un-fucking-necessary.”

“How long?” he growled.

He knew the answer. It seemed foolish to respond, but Crip wasn’t one to argue with.

“Since the beginning.”

“Tonight the first time I fucked with you?”

“Nope.”

“Won’t be the last, either,” he said. “You notice that there’s a pattern?”

“The fuck you talking about?”

“You do dumb shit, I call you on the spot. You do dumb shit, I call you on the spot. That’s what’s commonly referred to as a pattern. You notice the continuation of said pattern tonight?”

“Wasn’t doing anything tonight, motherfucker. That night I wandered off in the bar after the big-titted chick while you was talking? Sure. And on the poker run a few months back, when I kept talking to Cholo while you was giving that speech on get-back whips? Yeah. Tonight?” I shook my head. “Sorry. Nope. Don’t see it.”

“You fell asleep.”

“Bullshit.”

“You had no idea what I was talking about.”

He was obviously right. But I wasn’t asleep. “I got distracted.”

“As hard as it may be to believe, the men look up to you, Peeb. If they see you dicking off, they’ll think whatever I’m talking about isn’t worth fucking listening to. If you’re paying attention, they’ll pay attention. Make sense?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yeah.”

“You disagree?”

“No, but it doesn’t mean I want to be talked to like I’m some punk kid. I was fucking thinking about some shit.”

“Something I need to know about?”

I didn’t dare tell him I was thinking about a bitch while he was talking. He’d have my ass, for sure.

“Just my pop. Worried about him, that’s all.”

“Understandable.” He patted me on the shoulder. “How’s he doing?”

“Good. Just worried about him.”

“How’s your bike-wrecking nurse? She doing a good job with him?”

“She’s alright.”

He nodded, and then looked away.

“Wanna hear something crazy?” I asked.

He glanced around the shop, and then looked at me and grinned. “I can’t wait.”

“Her ex was a biker. He’s doing life at Pelican Bay.”

“You’re shittin’ me? Pelican fucking Bay? God damn, that’s a shitty fucking joint. What the fuck did he do?”

I shrugged. “She wouldn’t say. Said it was between him and God, and it was none of my business.”

“Tight-lipped bitch, huh?”

“About some things. She’s kind of like you about others.”

He scowled at me. “What the fuck’s that mean?”

“She tight-lipped about some shit, and then she’s real mouthy about other stuff. She talks shit to me half the time, just like you.”

“If her ex old man’s in Pelican Bay doing life, my guess is you’re not going to be able to bullshit her, Brother. She’ll see right through it. She probably talks shit when you start fucking with her, huh?”

“Pretty much, yeah.”

“Maybe don’t be such a prick around her, and she’ll tell ya.”

He had a good point. Her mouthy comments and snide attitude were always a result of me acting like a dick. I wondered what she might act like if I wasn’t a dick, and how much different things would be.

Now, even more so than I had before, I wondered about her ex, and why he was in a place reserved for the worst of the state’s most notorious criminals.

“Was he patched with any club?” Crip asked.

“Said he was an independent.”

“She from here?”

“Not sure. I think so.”

“Wonder who that fucker is?” he said. “Or was.”

“Hard saying.”

“If you find out, let me know.” He slapped my bicep with his open hand, and then squeezed it. “And tell your pop I sent my well wishes.”

“I’ll do it.”