Chapter Six
Van
The clubhouse is packed tight. Damn near every brother is here to have one last drink with Tito before he goes inside. The way they’re all acting, you’d think the Pres was facing ten years behind bars instead of thirty days. He’s acting the same way, though. The man has already taken three bitches back to his room and let another suck him off at the bar. Guess he’s getting his fill before he has nothing more than his hand as company.
If my mom was a different kind of woman, I’d probably be pissed at his never-ending stream of pussy. With the way she is, the way their relationship is, I can’t hold anything against him. She does her own thing, and he does his. I doubt they’ve shared a bed since I was just a kid. Again, I can’t blame him.
Deciding I have a need of my own, I focus my attention on the woman sitting in my lap. Running my hand up the leg of the club whore, I slide it under her skirt and glide my finger over her already dripping pussy. Slipping one finger inside of her, I hook it in a way that causes her to let out a gasp. I latch on to her thigh with my other hand and give it a squeeze. The bitch has been grinding on me all damn night, and I’m ready to do more than just play.
“It’s time to go to my room,” I mumble, pulling my hands away and pushing her off my lap.
Standing up, she tosses her hair over her shoulder and shoots me a wink. “I didn’t think you’d ever ask.”
“Don’t remember asking,” I say, smiling her way. “That was an order.”
Before I can get out of my seat, I notice Tito heading my way. The way his eyes latch onto mine, I know he wants to talk. I pat the chick’s ass, pointing for her to head to my room, then lean back in my chair, waiting to hear what the Pres has to say.
Instead of taking one of the empty seats at my table, he motions for me to follow him. He walks out of the room and heads down the hall. I get up and follow, feeling the effect of all the alcohol I’ve consumed in the last few hours. I wouldn’t say I was drunk, but I’m heading that way and enjoying every minute of it.
When we get to his office, he opens the door and heads straight to his desk. Walking in, I shut the door behind me before stepping over and leaning against the corner of his desk. Sitting down, he pulls out a bottle of José and two shot glasses, filling both to the rim. Handing one to me, he tosses his back then refills it. I quickly empty mine, loving the way it burns going down.
“I’m trusting you to take care of Veronica. I wouldn’t trust anyone but you, so don’t fuck this up,” he states, before downing his second glass.
I see a flash of fear in his eyes, the first I’ve ever seen, and suddenly feel like shit for trying to get him to have her stay at the clubhouse. This is the man who stepped in and took care of me when my own father couldn’t do it anymore. I owe him this and so much more.
Throwing back my shot, I pull in a deep breath and reply, “I won’t fuck up.”
“I know you won’t, Van.” He leans back in his chair and looks at me before letting out a frustrated breath. “It’s my job to take care of her, and I just fucking hate that I can’t be here to do it myself.”
Realizing the man needs to relax, I reach into the inside pocket of my cut and pull out an already rolled joint. Dragging a lighter out of my jeans pocket, I bring the joint to my lips. I light up and breathe in a deep drag, feeling the smoke making its way into my lungs. One more pull, then I pass it across the desk to Tito. He takes a few drags before handing it back to me.
“You should just let me take out the fucking stepbrother,” I state, something I have already said a dozen times tonight. “Then, the problem would be resolved.”
“If he’s called a hit on her, taking him out won’t solve anything.” He shakes his head, motioning for me to pass the joint back.
Taking one more drag, I pass it his way. “It’d be fun, though.”
“You’re probably right about that.” Tito cracks a smile and shakes his head. “I’m gonna have Walker pick him up, bring him in.”
“What?” I ask, feeling pissed as fuck. “Why the fuck are you sending Walker?”
I offered to go after the bastard, and Tito said no. Other than my trip to Tennessee, the asshole ordered me to keep my ass in Cotton Plains until he gets out of jail. He said he'd be the one to take care of Ronni’s stepbrother, and that won’t happen until he’s a free man.
“I know you wanted to go, but I want you here with Veronica. She needs to be your first priority,” he states, his voice hard. “Not to mention, Walker has connections with a crew out in Vegas. Since that asshole is there, figure we could put those connections to use. Walker will be able to get in and out without any trouble.”
“What do you want done with him when he gets here?” I ask, knowing he is right but not willing to admit it.
“I figure, after he goes a round with you and Brass in the hole, we’ll know if he paid someone to take out my little girl.” He lays the remnants of the joint in the ashtray. “Once we have those answers, I’ll decide what to do next.”
The clubhouse sits on property that Tito’s grandfather bought in the seventies. There is a little more than eighty acres, most of it still uncleared and covered with trees. When he bought it, there was a house sitting on the land. He tore it down, planning on building a new one, but he died a year after buying it, leaving it to Tito’s dad. Instead of a home, a clubhouse was built.
A few years later, an old cellar was found about a half an acre behind the clubhouse. It sat empty until Tito took over. He realized it could be useful to the club. He had the boys clean it up, extend it, and reinforce the walls. Now, it’s known as the hole. More than a few men have lost their lives there; no doubt, Ronni’s stepbrother will, too.
“We need to talk about your mom,” he states, changing the subject.
He goes quiet after that, just leaving it hanging out there. I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just stares at me as if he needs me to give him permission to say what he wants to say. No doubt, it’s not gonna be good.
“What about her?” I ask, wondering what the fuck is going on now.
“I told her to stay away from the club until I get out of jail. I need you to make sure she follows that order.” He looks me straight in the eye. “I know she’s your mother, but I want you to keep her away from your house, too.”
I shake my head, leaning back in my seat. “That bitch never comes to my house anyway. I don’t see her dropping by anytime soon.”
“I want you to make sure it stays that way and do so by making sure she knows she’s not welcome,” he orders, leaving no room for discussion.
I nod, reaching for the bottle of José, and pour both of us another shot. “You can consider it done, brother.”
He swallows back his shot then says, “She doesn’t know it yet, but I’m cutting her loose as soon as I get home. In fact, I’m eighty-sixing her for life. I won’t do anything until I’m out, just to make sure she doesn’t cause any problems, but once I’m back, she won’t be allowed on any of the club properties ever again.”
My gut clenches at his words, wondering how this is going to affect our relationship. I know the man well enough to know he would never let his relationship with my mom affect my standing at the club, so I’m not worried about that. What I’m thinking about is the connection we have outside of the club. I love my dad, still see him every chance I get. Still, Tito is the only father I’ve had for most of my life.
“Your dad was my best friend. We may not get to sit down and shoot the shit anymore, may never get to share another bottle of Jack or chase any more bitches, but Crew is still my best friend to this day,” he says, with a nod. “When he went inside, he asked me to watch over you. He told me to do whatever I had to do to make sure you were safe. I tried everything, every fucking thing, to get your mom to hand you over to me. I even tried paying the bitch off, but she refused. The only way I could have you is if I took her, too.”
I knew most of that already. Listening to him and Mom fight, while I was growing up, gave me most of that information. What I didn’t know was that he tried to pay her off. I’m not really surprised by it, but I am surprised she didn’t take the money and run. I swallow down the questions filling my mind, wanting to hear the rest.
“I put up with her ass for all those years so I could watch over you. I don’t regret it. I’m proud to say that I had a hand in making you who you are today.” He lifts his chin to me. “I should have kicked her ass to the curb the day you turned eighteen, but it was too much fucking trouble. By that time, you and I were both living at the clubhouse. As long as she got money every week, she stayed the hell away from me. I did what I wanted to do and pretended that she didn’t even exist. But, things are going to be different when I get out of jail.”
Suddenly, the reason for this conversation is clear. Ronni’s gonna be around for a while, and he’s not gonna have my mom treating his daughter like shit. The only way to ensure that happens is to get rid of the bitch completely.
“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Tito. You’re the President—you do what you’ve gotta do,” I say, not feeling an ounce of remorse for my mother.
“I’m not explaining myself to my VP. I’m trying to explain myself to the man I think of as a son,” he explains, his eyes cutting into me like laser beams.
A knot fills my throat, but I force out the words he needs to hear. “The man that thinks of you as a father doesn’t need an explanation either. I know how my mom is, and I’ll be glad to see you free of her.”