January 25, 2018
Riley
I thought the holiday season would never end. Between houseguests from Boise and D.C. that my parents invited to the ranch and a forced week in Boise to be paraded in front of their political and business connections I was a mess.
The good news about the hectic pace they set, my parents hadn’t noticed my class schedule for this semester. Operation Major Change was successfully underway. Classes had started back a week ago and I was thrilled with them. When I could focus.
Bursting with nerves and with no one else to confide in, on New Year’s Day and after swearing her to secrecy, I told my Gram that I had changed my major. She gave me a huge wink and said, “Oh, is that all? Well, this will be such an exciting year for you, won’t it, Dear?” Then proceeded to giggle to herself. I’ve been watching her for further signs of dementia ever since.
I’ve kept to my deal with Gunner, although I make more frequent stops in town hoping to catch a glimpse of him. My heart accelerates every time I hear a bike around town; but any time I do see him, I end up more frustrated at our lack of contact than excited about seeing him.
I’ve gotten three texts from him. An acknowledgement of the first one I sent him, then what must have been a drunk message sent at well past midnight one night in early Fall – “Im keeping my promise to u” – and the last one after he received the Christmas present I had ordered and mailed to him. A silver lighter with the Grizzlies’ logo etched on the flat sides and an R on the narrow side below the flint. “Soon, Riley. Soon.” was all that text contained.
Classes end for me at one today and with the money my parents gave me in lieu of a physical Christmas present, I am going to a salon near campus today. I’m getting a massage, facial, and then waxed EVERYWHERE below my waist. I have no idea what to expect next week but dammit, enough waiting for my life to start.
The one part about next week that made me the most nervous resolved itself this morning. Mother was working on paperwork at home and remembered to inform me that she and father were heading to Switzerland from January 30th until the end of February. Happy Birthday to Me.
January 27
Gunner
Fucking have to get to the clubhouse for Church. There’s no missing that. This weather has been shitty and I’ve been working like hell to build up inventory. I want to really build up my furniture business and to get in with any of the stores in the area or to open my own, I have to have inventory. They won’t take one piece with a promise of more down the line and for the first time in my life, I have to consider providing for someone other than myself.
Besides, throwing myself into the work is better than seeing my Brothers getting blown or screwing the club sluts. Been heading to Rusty’s more and more so that shit isn’t right in front of me. Flint and some of the others are there regularly, what with his Ol’ Lady working there, he likes to keep close. The Girlies must have a bet going though, trying to wear me down. Never been hit with so much T&A, as I have since I got back from SD last fall.
I’ve kept my word.
Granted I’ve also become a full-fledged stalker. I’ve been paying a security guard at the University to keep an eye on her and her SUV. A sister of one of the Ol’ Ladies’ works in admissions there and gives me Riley’s schedule each semester, so I’ll know where she’ll be. Friday nights she’s with her Gram.
And her Gram, with that little fucking smile of hers. When I’m there every month. When I’m there talking about all things Not Riley, she’ll occasionally throw out little lines like, “Oh, my granddaughter was by the other day and she…”
I’ve been going there once a month for seven fucking years and she may have mentioned her granddaughter twice, now she just throws out tidbits like confetti.
Last May, I went to Mrs. R and told her that I had met Riley and wanted her to be mine when she was eighteen; like it was the 1800’s and that was acceptable behavior.
She just smiled at me and said, “I’m so sorry I didn’t think of that first. Do not screw it up.” Then she changed the subject to something benign. But I could see the wheels turning in her head and have been waiting for all the scraps of information about Riley that she dangles in front of me. I crave them, but would never ask.
‘Cause Riley’s still fucking Jailbait for another four days.
Going through the motions at Church, I can barely focus on anything. Jasper, our President notices but doesn’t call me out. I have a feeling that’s coming soon enough. Once we talk through upcoming deals and distribution options, Jasper opens the floor. Twenty fucking minutes spent on individual grievances like we’re fucking kids and can’t suck this shit up. Past that, Jasper asks the Officers to stay behind then adjourns the meeting.
Flint, Vice, Jas, and I are left. Jasper announces he and Emma are taking off for a week in March, Vice and Flint don’t seem surprised so I imagine it’s some of what I’ve missed the past couple weeks. He lays out what he needs from each of us during that time. Vice will be on distribution runs, so Flint will lead and I will still coordinate the other Enforcers while stepping up with local operations.
Looking at them and speaking up, “Brothers, I have something personal coming up. Club business is a priority, I understand, but …” Shit, may as well go all in. “There’s this girl –“
They all start laughing. “Yeah, no kidding, that why your dick’s been dry a year?” Howls Vice.
“Shut. The. Fuck. Up.” I growl. Flint and Jasper, having been there themselves sit up a bit straighter. “She’s not a goddamn hole. She’s, well, she’s more.” I stand, pounding the table on the way up. Heading towards the door, I only pause and turn as Jas calls my name.
“Good luck. OK?”
“Yeah,” I grunt back. “There might be some waves, but…” I shrug at Jas and Flint. “Yeah. See ya soon.”
The party is in full swing in the main room. The Girlies seem occupied blowing or screwing various Brothers in the corners, while the Ol’ Ladies are holding court near the bar. And I’ve gotta figure out how to bring a virgin into this. A virgin, whose father is Special Attorney assigned to Gang Activity by his best friend, the Governor of this state. A virgin, whose mother, an MD, is classified as a Consultant to the Governor’s Staff.
A sheltered virgin I’ve waited nearly a year for but will try to wait even longer for – until she’s ready.
I am the worst kind of shithead. I know the whole situation is FUBAR, but am determined to make her mine. To own her. To claim her. My mother was tied down with me at that age and despised me, so to do that to this girl is the worst kind of fucked up. But I can’t stop thinking of her eyes the first time I saw her and the primal need that came over me to take away her pain, to make her mine.
She sealed her fate when she stood up to me. Demanded something I would have nearly backhanded any other woman for suggesting. Demanding fidelity. She’s had my fidelity these past eight-plus months and will have it, but it comes with a price. She’s mine now. End of, or actually, beginning of story. And I will tear apart anyone who tries to take her from me.
Standing back against the bar, I barely register the beer in my hand or those around me. Feeling a tug on my cut, I look down ready to push away a Girlie or honey hole. But it’s Bree.
“You ok, Handsome?” She yells up over all the noise.
“You took a night off Rusty’s, Pretty Lady?” I duck her question, causing her to tilt her head to me in question.
“Real talk?” I query, knowing she’ll keep what we say close to her vest. She’s Flint’s and well-liked, but still considered an outsider by most. She doesn’t really talk about herself, and can be standoffish but has always been easy going with me.
“You know me Gunner, and you’re one of the good ones, so let it out.” She says and I nudge her away from the others to the corner of the bar. I unload. I had told Bree about my G’ma not long after she and I met, but I tell her everything about my monthly visits with Mrs. R and then later meeting Riley. I stop short of telling her my fears. That my wants and needs will push Riley away.
At one point, Flint had started to approach us, but Bree looked at him and shook her head. After looking back and forth between us, he nodded and sat across the bar. He wasn’t drinking. He was talking to those around him but was just waiting, watching us. A man who had lived fast and hard but now in his mid-fifties, wanted nothing more than to go home with his new fiancé / Ol’ Lady.
Flint is content to just let her be the woman that she is. I haven’t known Bree long, but she sees things that others miss. She’ll address them, fixing what she can and butting out when appropriate. Thinking about the two of them, I had stopped talking. She continued to sit quietly next to me, another trait I admire. When I glance towards her again, she finally gives me her two cents.
“Gunner, let me know when she’ll be here. I know you don’t have things figured out but trust me; this is a lot for an outsider. Speaking as one.” She quickly adds, giving me a little half-smile. “Just text me, so I can try to buffer it. OK? I will make time for her, for you. Got it?”
Staring at my drink, I nod while standing. Turning to her I grab her, my unexpected bear hug causes her to laugh wholeheartedly. I see Flint rise and walk towards us. I set her back away from me but remind her, “Real talk, right, Pretty Lady? Just us for now?”
“I can’t wait to meet her. Just between us.” Then she turns and launches herself at Flint as he nears. “Take me home? I’m a bit horny,” Bree mock-whispers in his ear.
“Gunner got you horny and you want to work it off with me?” Flint gruffly demands while she sucks in his earlobe. He’s trying to hold his patented glare but throws a wink in my direction to let me know he isn’t pissed. Guess he wants her to get creative when she makes it up to him.
“Flint, you sitting across from us tonight? All pissy? Reminded me of how you’d glare at me when I wouldn’t go out with you?!” She leans back up to his earlobe. “Remember how that worked out?” She coos.
Without another word, Flint squats and tosses her over his shoulder and heads for the door – Bree’s laughter is drowned out by the hoots and suggestions from all they pass.