Boz
Twenty-Two Years Old
I SIT down at the picnic table and take a long pull from my beer. Looking over to my dad, I shoot him a questioning look and ask, “How long are we gonna be here?”
“We’re here until I’m ready to leave,” Dad replies, taking a drink of his own beer. “You know better to ask questions of me, boy.”
Not wanting to deal with his smart-ass mouth, I get up from the picnic table and walk to the other side of the yard. All around me, members of the Satan’s Revenge MC are partying like there is no fuckin’ tomorrow. There are probably ten kegs scattered around the front of the clubhouse and even more inside. So much weed is being smoked that the tangy smell hangs in the open air of the yard. Yeah, they are having a damn good time and so are my brothers. I, on the other hand, am ready to get back to my own damn clubhouse.
Dad thinks it’s a good idea to make ties with some of the other local clubs. He thinks it is the only way the Grim Bastards will continue to grow stronger in the biker community. He wants connections to the other clubs, something that will make us allies, even though we are also competitors. I disagree completely. We’ve always been secluded, and I liked it that way. Most clubs are solitary; it’s the biker way, but seeing as he’s the President and I’ve just earned my patch, he is getting his way. That’s the only reason I am making the rounds visiting the rival clubhouses.
So here we are, along with three other brothers, playing nice with the Satan’s Revenge boys. What Dad thinks we are going to get out of it, I’ll never know. Getting drunk, high, and sharing pussy with another club isn’t gonna gain us a damn thing. Hell, I don’t understand most of what he does and I can guarantee that when I become President, a lot of shit is gonna change. He just keeps getting more and more careless, running the club into the ground. If he keeps on, there won’t be a club left when it’s my turn to rule.
I keep walking until I find a free chair near the bonfire. Sitting down, my eyes take in the scene around me. All my brothers are partying along with the Revenge boys, looking as if they are having a fuckin’ blast—each one forgetting that this club is not their own. Do they not realize this club is bigger than ours, has more manpower, more money? They could take us out if they wanted. Why can’t they understand that we need to grow from within, not align ourselves with outsiders? I take another drink, trying to ignore the nagging feeling in my gut.
“Hey, I don’t know you,” says a voice from my right side.
I turn to see a freckly-faced kid standing a foot from me, with a huge ass smile on her face. “No kid, you don’t.”
“I’m not a kid. I’ll be fourteen next week.” Her smile doesn’t fade as she steps closer. Dropping to her knees on the ground, she looks at my cut for a second before she asks, “You’re one of the Bastards, right?”
I nearly laugh when I hear the question come out of her mouth. “Yeah, I’m a Bastard.”
She smiles at my words then looks at my arms, taking in my tats. “What does Hold Fast mean?
I lift my hands and look down at the ink. HOLD is written across the fingers on my right hand and FAST is on the left. “My grandma was from Scotland. She was a McCloud, before she married my Gramps. Hold Fast is her family’s creed.”
She reaches out and grabs my hands, pulling them closer for a better look. “I like it. One of the brothers has LOVE on one hand and HATE on the other. This is much cooler.”
Her touch surprises me, causing me to instinctively pull back. This girl isn’t even fourteen—fuckin’ fourteen! She shouldn’t even consider touching a man she doesn’t know. I stare at her for a minute, wondering what the hell she is doing here. Taking in her slightly curved body and long blonde hair, I know that some of the brothers would not let her age stop them from taking what they wanted.
She may look like a young girl in the face, but her body is screaming eighteen. Hell, I haven’t seen many women with curves like she has. Just looking at her, I know she is as innocent as the day she was born. I also know she won’t stay that way long if she doesn’t get her jailbait ass away from these drunk bikers.
Deciding to give her some advice, I say, “You shouldn’t be here, girl. You need to take your ass home.”
She gives me an odd look, her bright blue eyes shining with something I don’t quite understand, then throws her head back and lets out a tinkling laugh. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all night.”
Before I can ask what she means, Hoss, the Revenge President, comes over and rests a hand on the top of her head. “What’s got you laughing so hard, Trix?”
For a second, my stomach twists at the thought of Hoss even touching the fresh, young girl. He has to be twenty years older than she is, if not more. Knowing there is nothing I can say or do to stop him from doing what he wants to her, I bite down on my cheek to keep from telling him to get the fuck away from the kid.
“He told me I needed to get my butt home,” she explains, laughter lingering in her voice. “I just thought it was funny.”
Hoss looks from me to her for a second then says, “He’s probably right, sugar. You need to be getting your ass to your room. It’s gonna be getting rowdy soon.”
Looking across the yard, my eyes take in all the drinking, partying, and more than a few women in nothing but what God gave them, and I wonder how much rowdier it can get. If this kid is used to this kinda shit, she’s probably been around the clubhouse for a while. She’s probably also seen more than any kid should ever see.
“But, Daddy…” she starts and my stomach churns even more.
This son of a bitch has her calling him Daddy. I’ve seen and heard a lot of shit in my twenty-two years and have already had my share of women, but I will never touch a damn kid. Hoss may be president of Satan’s Revenge MC, but he’s nothing more than a fuckin’ pervert.
He reaches down and grabs her arm, then drags her to her feet. “You know the rules, girl. When I say it’s time to head to bed, you do it. No questions asked.”
She sticks out her bottom lip in a pout. “But, Momma said…”
Again, he cuts her off. “Your momma said for you to get your ass to bed early. You have dance practice in the morning. If she has to fight to get you up, I’ll never hear the end of it. If that shit happens, the next time everyone is here, she won’t even let you come out. Now, do as you’re told.”
His words have it all clicking in my head. He’s not her ‘daddy’; he’s her father. My stomach unclenches, but then a thought hits me. What kind of father lets their kid hang out at a club party? My dad did, but I was a boy. It’s different with girls. Does he not realize what could happen to her? He may not be a pervert, but he’s definitely a fuckin’ idiot.
She finally nods her head and goes to her toes to place a kiss on his cheek. “Okay, Daddy. ‘Night, love you.”
“Love you too, Trix,” he says, returning her kiss.
She gets a few steps away before turning around and looking at me. “Bye. Nice meeting you, funny man.” Then she takes off, running straight into a clubhouse full of drunk and horny men.
Not able to hold my tongue any longer, I look up to Hoss. “Do you let her stay here at the clubhouse all the time?”
His eyes cut to me and I can see a bit of anger in them. “Yes, my girl doesn’t go anywhere without me or one of my boys. My family lives at the compound. It’s the safest place they can be. We protect them, and not one of my brothers would ever harm a hair on her head.”
“Men do stupid shit when they’ve downed a few,” I reply, knowing how right I am. I’ve been known to do some fucked-up shit while drunk.
“My boys would cut off their nuts before they’d hurt that girl. She’s been around them her whole life. They love her as much as they do their own kids,” he says with a shake of his head. “You needn’t worry about my little girl, Boz. You should be more worried about your own family.”
I look across the yard and see my dad getting a blow job from some club whore while hitting a joint. “He’s just having fun, man.”
The words taste bitter on my tongue, knowing my mom is at home waiting for him. Seeing him like this pisses me off. It always does, but that doesn’t stop him from doing that shit. My mom’s a great woman, always doing what she can to help the club, and he repays her by doing shit like this. I’ll never understand how he can hurt her like he does.
I really don’t have any room to judge; I’ve been known to get some side pussy from time to time. The only difference is my wife is a fucking bitch—a bitch that right now is carrying another man’s child. I just hope that Cherry grows the hell up when the baby comes. Hell, we didn’t need to get married if we were just gonna keep on acting the same way we did when we were dating. As fucked up as this sounds, I thought marriage would turn Cherry into a woman like my mom. I figured she would be an old lady I could be proud of, but that sure as hell hasn’t happened.
“Yeah, he’s having fun,” Hoss replies with a shrug. “But, like you said, a man does stupid shit when he’s downed a few. Add a couple of joints and a few lines to the mix, and that shit becomes fuckin’ ridiculous. They also can’t seem to keep their trap shut. You’d be surprised what comes flying out of their mouths when they’re fucked up.”
Letting out a frustrated sigh, I shake my head. “Is he starting shit?”
Hoss’ eyes go hard as he replies, “Just get a handle on your dad.”
Lifting my chin to him, I stand up and walk toward Dad, hoping like hell I can get him to go home. All we need is for him to do something stupid and fuck up everything. This definitely isn’t the time or the place for him to be running his mouth. He does this shit all the damn time, and I end up having to do damage control. Hopefully, I can avoid that tonight.
“Hey, Dad, you ready to head out? I need to go check on Cherry.” I’m not sure if he’s just too drunk to care, or if he’s relaxed because he just got his dick sucked, but he doesn’t put up a fight. I’m not complaining; I’m ready to get home. You know it’s time to go when the best part of your night was talking to a thirteen-year-old girl.