CHAPTER SEVEN
Loch
The weekend seemed to drag on. I wasn’t interested in any of the girls there. Diesel had his dick in enough of them for the both of us. I wondered if he had a sex problem or was just truly never satisfied with what he got. On top of that, I was pissed that Reagan didn’t listen to me. I was pissed that the club girls showed up to the bar. And I was pissed that whatever they said obviously hurt her. I had this strange need to protect her. She was strong, I got that, but I could see inside she was a little broken and fragile. Though, that was something she would ever admit.
I called Cal and had him put the club girls in their place. I really wanted to be the one to do it, but it couldn’t wait ‘til I got back. I wasn’t going to take a chance that they would go back and keep digging their claws in.
I was sitting alone on a couch in the Tennessee clubhouse when I got a text from Reagan. I was bored and I knew it showed. But I was over being there at that point. I was just ready to get back. I laughed at her words. I wondered if she did it on purpose. I couldn’t help but send something a little dirty back. Her next text sent thoughts straight down to my dick. I have no doubt. I wondered if she had thought about it. Like really thought about it. My head filled with an image of her lying in her bed at night, thinking about what it would be like to be fucked by me. My cock perked up and let me know exactly how he felt about the idea. I shifted uncomfortably, a movement that wasn’t lost on Bocca.
“Her, isn’t it?” he asked from across the room. I cut my eyes, scanning the room. No one was paying attention. I shot him a look that let him know I wasn’t going to talk about it. “Off limits. I got it.” With that, he turned away from me.
A little while later, Brass flopped down beside me. He had been the president of the Grey Fort, Tennessee chapter for over twenty years.
“You look like you’d rather be anywhere but here,” he said in a light hearted tone. I chuckled.
“Yeah, man. But it’s not you,” I replied.
“Oh yeah? Things good back home?”
“Yeah, club is good. Just other stuff. I don’t know, brother.” I didn’t want to talk about it. Mostly because I didn’t know what it was to talk about.
Reagan was new in my life. And while she walked in seemed to suck all of the air out of the room, I had no idea why. I couldn’t stop thinking about her. It bothered more than it should have.
“I gotcha.” He nodded slowly like he was taken away in a memory for a moment.
“Dad,” his daughter, Gwen, broke through the silence a few minutes later.
“Yeah, over here.” Brass held up his hand and waved across the room.
“Oh, hey, Loch,” she said as she walked up.
“Hey, Gewnie. How are you doing?” I asked giving her my full attention.
I’d known her as long as she’d been on this green earth. She was always a bubbly kid. Always getting in to trouble, too. She was raised in the club. All the guys treated her like she was their own. I almost felt bad for any guy she ever tried to date. But then again, if she were my girl, I would want all the backup I could get.
“Good, thanks.” She flashed me a sweet smile before she turned her attention to her dad. “Stacy is picking me up and we are going to go to the library and work on our project. I’ll be home by ten, I promise.”
“Alright. Be safe,” he called out as she bounced off. “Fuck, what am I doing to do next year when she goes off to college?” He grumbled. I laughed.
“Wow, hard to imagine. Seems like just yesterday she was crawling around here in diapers, hiding from the brothers under the pool tables,” I said and he laughed at the memory.
“Yeah, and Cringer’s son be will done with college next year. Times are changin’.”
Cringer’s son, Knight, and Gwen were only four years apart. Both born into club life. Growing up those two were inseparable. When Gwen lost her mother to breast cancer when she was only seven, Knight didn’t leave her side for days. Who would have thought he would take his name so seriously? I imagined it was hard on her when he left for college.
“He comin’ back?” I asked. There was a time Cringer thought his son might go off into the world never to return. He wasn’t sure Knight wanted the club life.
“Yeah,” Brass said. “He called me up just the other week. He wants to prospect when he comes home.”
“I know that will make Cringer happy.”
“Yeah. It will be good to have him here.” He nodded and took a long drink of his beer, looking lost in thought for a moment.
“Somethin’ on your mind?” I asked, unsure if I really wanted to know. He shrugged.
“It’s just my baby girl. She’s all grown up. And she has been distant since Knight left. I hate that she’s leaving when he’s finally decided this is the place for him.” He scanned the room almost like it was talking it all in. “Eh, maybe it’s for the best.”
I nodded not having anything to add. I could sense there was more to the story but he wasn’t gonna say. Or it could have been that he didn’t know himself. Whatever it was, it would work itself out, I was sure of it.
It all reminded me that I was apart of something bigger than myself. I had brothers. People all over that were there to watch my back. Families that I was an extension of. I got to be there the day two of Stone’s kids were born. The day Tank’s boy was born. I was at every birthday party. I got to watch these people grow and their children grow. It was an amazing feeling to be part of it.
It was good to catch up with the brothers. It had been too long since we had gotten together. As the clubs shifted hands we got together less and less. We all had our own things going on. Even though it hadn’t been said out loud, most of us were making a move to legit. That meant we had more businesses to run, and taking time away from that meant shit got backed up. Like us, the Tennessee boys had opened a garage fixing cars. They were talking about opening a bar and a strip club as well. I knew the time was coming for us all to sit down and put an end to the gun runs.
On Sunday we headed over to their garage. They were behind and we figured we could throw in a few hours to help out.
“You got your fill, brother?” I asked Diesel as he came up to help me with the truck I was working on.
“For now.” He gave me a smirk and I chuckled.
We worked silently next to each other for the two hours. We were both men of few words. Diesel was smart, but most people never caught on to that fact. He would be in the room and even though you’d notice him, he never let on he noticed you. People figured he wasn’t paying attention and most times talked freely. He kept his head down and ears open. Always listened. Always watched, even if it didn’t appear that he was. Most of what he heard was useless gossip, but he seemed to know everything. He was pretty quiet. Until he got some ass in his room, that was. That boy was into some crazy stuff, and we all heard it throughout the clubhouse.
The ride back seemed long. It was dark when we left and we drove through the late hours of the night. The highways around us quiet, save for the rumbling of our motorcycles. Which wasn’t enough to keep my thoughts at bay. All those thoughts revolved around one thing. Reagan. It was starting to piss me off. So much so, that when I got home I drank myself to sleep. Something I hadn’t done in a long time.