Mike

Gabriel leans forward, putting his elbows on his thighs as the blanket slides down to the floor. Star leaps towards him and picks it up, wrapping it around him.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” Gabriel says as a coughing fit grips him.

Some bad shit happened in the strip club that belongs to the Italians and Gabriel was shot. The doctors took the bullet out, but he developed a bad pneumonia. He’s still recovering.

We wait for him to calm the fit. My eyes slide over Star’s face. Worry is written in her sunken cheeks and dark circles under her eyes. Then my glance sweeps over my son. Amber fury is blazing in his eyes. He’s devouring the girl with his gaze.

Fucking hell. My son loves that chick like mad. I haven’t even noticed. They come over for dinner twice a week to our place. We’ve gone fishing twice. And I haven’t noticed.

Daisy noticed a long time ago, my smart little wife. That’s why we always invite Rebel with Star. That’s why Rebel listens to my wife.

“Go visit Daisy,” Gabriel says.

Star leans over him and kisses his cheek then walks off.

Rebel and I drop into our chairs and look at Gabriel.

“I’m gonna say that straight,” Gabriel says. “I’m out of order. The club needs a new president.” His eyes fix on mine. “You’re gonna take over from me.”

I nod even though his unexpected offer hits me like a whiplash. Then it fills me with pride.

“You,” Gabriel tilts his head towards Rebel. “You’re gonna help Mike to clean the club up. My last order. Sort it out, you two, and make me feel proud of my club. Now, get the fuck out of here.”

“Take care of yourself, you old git,” I say.

“You want a bullet straight in your butt, Mike?” Gabriel snaps. “You’re not President yet.” He coughs like his lungs have collapsed, and he emits gurgling and wheezing sounds.

I lean towards him to shake hands. His trembles like he’s an autumnal leaf brushed by the wind.

Rebel approaches him and they shake hands then we leave his house.

“Let’s go for a walk,” I say.

We move towards the wall that encircles the compound. I spot a camera fitted above my head so we step to the side to hide behind a wheelie bin. The smell of rot hits my nostrils.

“Beaver and Snake,” Rebel says, his voice devoid of emotion.

Yep. They’re bringing drugs to the club and making business with another club behind Gabriel’s back. They’re greedy. Greedy enough to be sloppy. I’ve found out about them within two weeks. Gabriel has struggled with the decision, but his deteriorating health must have pushed him to make this decision at last.

I nod. “They’re your club brothers—“

“They’ve brought rot to the club.”

“I can do this myself.”

He shakes his head. “We’re a team. You said that.”

We stop and I lay my hand on his shoulder. “You’re my son. I’m proud to have you as my partner.” I want to keep him away from all the shit of the world, but on the other hand, I know he’s already stepped into the shit and it’s part of his life.

I want us to be a team—that’s the only way for me to have part of him belong to me. The only way for me to be his father. Maybe if I respect him as a man, he’ll decide to be my kid one day.

Rebel threads his fingers through his hair. “Guns with silencers?”

“Guns with silencers.”

We stand in silence. No words are necessary.

“This girl, Star,” I start.

Rebel’s jaw muscles twitch. “There’s no girl.”

“She’s very pretty.”

“She’s seventeen.”

“She’ll come of age soon.”

“Gabriel won’t give her to me. He won’t give her to anyone.”

So this is what it’s all about.

“We’ll do this in the wolves’ way, right?” I say and pat his shoulder.

He nods. “Right.” He rolls his fingers into fists. “Can you… Can you go and visit them with me one day?”

I can see tears well in his eyes. I know he’s talking about Lizzie and Thunder.

“We’ll go to the cemetery tomorrow,” I say and pat his shoulder then I pull him to me and hug him.

He’s tough. He’s mature.

And he isn’t.

He needs me as desperately as I need him.

Two days later, Rebel convinces Beaver and Snake to drink a bottle of whiskey with us. They laugh and joke with us.

We go outside of the compound. Rebel takes out Beaver. I take out Snake. They die with the disbelief widening their eyes.

We bury the corpses deep in the woods.

***

My first church as President. Everyone has voted for me. A fucking good feeling.

“Three things,” I say as Gabriel coughs and grins at me from across the table. “No drugs in the clubhouse. I mean no drugs. Drink, fuck, but no drugs. If I find drugs on someone they’ll be excluded.”

Gabriel nods as the murmur of the boys’ voices travels in the air. They seem to be kind of surprised then I see them nod and raise their hands as ‘yes’. Our new Vice, Ace, grins.

“The next issue,” I continue. “I want Saturdays to be strictly for family gatherings in the club. No whores, no parties. We’re one big family so let’s live like one big family.”

Somebody growls. Somebody swears. Somebody smacks their lips. Then they grumble ‘aye’.

I huff out. “And finally the Italians. We’re going to work on loosening the connections with them. Slowly, year after year. We want peace. We want our families to be safe. We want a safe source of income so the cops won’t raid our compound.”

Gabriel is connected with the Italians by his other daughter, Sky, but since he stepped down I’m going to make my own rules.

“Where are we going to earn money, Prez?” Ace asks.

“We’re going to sell the best white whiskey in the area,” I say. “I’ve got a one hundred-year-old Scottish recipe.”

“Only one club made white whiskey like this,” Ace says. “The Shadow Wolves. But they took the recipe to their grave. There is no trace of them or of the recipe left.”

I grin deep down as Gabriel raises one of his bushy eyebrows. “I’ve got Munroe Holme’s recipe. It’s authentic.”

Boulder gave it to Zane who in turn gave it to me so his precious little daughter would have a good life with me.

The boys bang their fists on the table and rumble their enthusiasm. I hear them shout ‘we’re gonna be rich’ or ‘fuck me—old Munroe’s recipe’.

“Be quiet, you toads,” I rumble. “Listen to me. We’re gonna build a brewery.”

“Aye,” they shout and chant.

Daisy

I stare at the pregnancy test in my hand and a flutter goes through my chest. I’m pregnant, but I know nothing about babies.

I should be happy, but panic paralyses me.

A baby.

I’ll be a mom.

I’ve wanted this since Mike kissed me for the first time ever. It’s taken us a while, but I’m pregnant at last. Scared as fuck.

Mike is in church. He should finish in about ten minutes so I put a hoody on and go to the clubhouse. I enter the bar and drop onto the bar stool. Rita, the bartender, puts a glass of apple juice at my right elbow.

“You look pale, Daisy,” she says.

“I’m pregnant,” I explode.

A bright smile lifts the corners of her lips. “Mike’s gonna be happy as hell.”

It feels weird that it’s come out of her mouth. I know Mike had fucked her once or twice before he married me.

I’ve asked him a lot of uncomfortable questions, mainly about his women. He answered them all. This knowledge stabbed me, but he gave me peace and certainty with his soothing warm words to me. He has a past—I don’t. It has to be like this. It will stab me from time to time, I’m sure, but it will fade as time goes by.

“Thank you,” I say. “You’re really kind.”

The club members emerge from the arched passage, and I see Mike. He grins at me and moves closer to me, wrapping his arms around me.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

It drills into me like a nail is drilling into my chest.

Right. I’m a housewife. I should be occupied with housework. The bar is not a place for me.

I must admit Mike doesn’t spend much time here. He’ll sometimes have a drink or two and he comes back to me, but I don’t like it when he’s here.

“I wanted…” I squeak.

“You wanted…” Mike kisses me on the cheek.

“I…” My voice halts.

“You’re gonna be a father,” Rita says. “Your old lady is pregnant.” She leans against her elbows. “Right, sweetheart?”

I bob my head at her.

Mike grunts and crushes me in his embrace, kissing the top of my head.

The bar falls silent for a moment, then the boys howl, hoot and bang their fists on the tables.

Rebel approaches us and tears me away from Mike, wrapping his arms around me. “I’m so fucking happy for you.”

Then Mike abducts me into his embrace and growls into my ear.

“Rita, bring all the vodka you have,” Mike says as the boys rumble their enthusiasm.

We settle ourselves into the couch and Mike pulls me onto his lap. His eyes never leave mine.

“I’m so happy,” he says.

“I’m scared,” I say. “I know nothing about babies.”

“I have some experience,” Mike says. “I used to babysit you, remember?”

“I tried my best to make my babysitter out of you,” I say. “Remember? I was very persistent.”

My eyes meet Rebel’s and I drown into the brooding ocean of his. Mike turns his face to him and he tosses his hair.

“Don’t do that, old man,” Rebel barks. “I’m not a kid.”

“You are,” Gabriel says and drops into the couch opposite us. The boys surround us.

The women surround us too. The club whores to be precise. Pain stabs the side of my chest and bile rises up to my throat. They’re attractive, clingy, and very experienced.

Mike kisses my jaw. “What is it, Daisy?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me. I can see there’s something bothering you.”

“I can lie, but I actually don’t want to lie to you.” I nudge his chest with my elbow.

Mike chuckles. “The women, right?”

“Right.”

“I promised you something, remember?” He plants a kiss on my lips. “I’m a man of my word.” He squeezes my breast.

“Mike,” I gasp.

Music starts playing.

“No smoking in the bar tonight,” Mike growls.

“Aye, Prez,” the club members rumble.

Mike kisses my temple. “Fancy a night out with your old man?”

“Always,” I squeak.

Glasses clink. Billiard balls bang. People laugh, growl and squeal. I like the atmosphere—crudeness mingles with untamed fun, danger blends with desire, wildness blurs my constraints.

I wrap my arms around Mike’s neck and straddle his lap. The boys whistle and howl. My blood pulsates and boils. Naughty joy pricks my skin.

“Love you, you big old wolf,” I whisper into his ear.

Mike howls and slams his lips on mine, his hands wandering on my body. His impatience is almost tangible.

I see Rebel out of the corner of my eye. He gulps his vodka, salutes Mike and walks off. My soul beams. He doesn’t want to miss any opportunity to spend time with Star.

Mike kisses me deeper, his tongue mating with mine. Suddenly, he rises to his feet, wrapping my thighs around his waist. The boys erupt into laughter as he carries me across the bar then into a narrow corridor and we enter a small room that smells of dust and liquor. He lays me on an old table and removes my jeans and panties.

“Mike,” I gasp, leaning against my elbows.

“Hush, baby.”

He spreads my thighs and sinks his face between my pussy lips. His hot breath jolts me and I shiver. My body collapses onto the table.

Mike runs his tongue along my slit, grunting, then he sucks my clit gently. Tension starts building in my tummy. He uses his tongue to penetrate my pussy, rubbing his thumb against my clit. I moan as my skin tingles. I ascend. I disintegrate as the ultimate whiteness fills my head. My orgasm is as violent as a tornado. I’m still moaning as Mike tumbles me down on my knees and opens his trousers. His big stiff cock springs free. He grips the back of my neck and drives his cock into my mouth, slamming the head on my throat. I gag, but he doesn’t stop. His eyes burn with insanity as he fucks my mouth. I gag. Tears well up in my eyes, but I take. I obey.

We catch a rhythm. I focus on breathing, and it’s much better.

Mike pulls out, lifts me and bends me over the table. He enters my pussy and thrusts into me gently. He pumps in and out and then growls his satisfaction. His hot cum fills me up and dribbles down my inner thigh.

“Now, I can get drunk,” he says.

“Lucky you. I can only avail myself of your cum.”

We straighten and I slip into my jeans, ignoring the fact that I’m all sticky between my thighs.

“Too rough?” Mike scratches his head.

“Very educational actually.”

He laughs and encloses me with his arms.

“Your favourite spot to bring women for a quick fuck?” It just pours out of me.

Mike kisses the top of my head. “My favourite spot to give my wife a good quick fuck. We should do this more often.”

We return to the bar. I sit on his lap and he enjoys the evening, groping me and kissing me.

He doesn’t drink much though. Four shots of vodka and one beer.

I feel loved.

I feel respected.

I feel deliriously happy.