Page 21 of Owning the Prez’s Ol' Lady

“Yeah.” The no stutter surprised everyone, including me. “Th—That part I—I g—got. It’s the sh—shit up h—here that k—kills me.” I slowly pointed to my head. Everything from the shoulders up, moved at a snails pace it seemed.

“Did you get discharged?” Axl asked, pulling up a chair next to me. It shocked the fuck out of me when I saw the secretary patch stitched to his chest. Then a bitter sadness overwhelmed me, and the loss of my friend took over. I wasn’t able to go to Warrant’s funeral, nor was I there to even the score when the club finally took the Crows and Sabbath out. The uselessness of the enforcer patch on my chest never felt more real.

“You g—guys should pr—probably take this.”

Axl’s gaze followed my painfully slow movements and widened when my finger landed on my patch.

“Nawh, man,” Clash exclaimed, patting me on the shoulder. “That shit fucking stays forever.”

“B—But look at m—me. I’m a st—stuttering f—fool.”

Ranger waltzed into the room with the biggest damn smile on his face. Out of everyone, he would always be my brother for life.

“Hey, big man, good to see you out of the bed. I bet you’re going to miss those sponge baths.”

Delayed laughing followed as his words caught up to my brain. “Y—Yeah. Those were f—fun.”

Clash disappeared from the room and emerged a few minutes later with Snyder and Priest in tow.

Snyder’s face lit up when he saw me sitting there, and without hesitation, he gave me the biggest bro hug ever.

“It’s good to see you, Sandman. The club’s just not the same without you.”

Looking around, I noticed a lot has changed since I’d been laid up in the hospital.

“A lot of th—things have ch—changed.”

Snyder and Clash nodded in unison. “Yeah, we’re stronger now. Especially with you back,” Snyder added.

“He’s got a long road ahead of him, but I think he’s got a fire lit up underneath his ass now,” Ranger said.

With a slow nod, I kept my head held as straight as I could. “Th—That b—bitch is not g—gonna t—take my b—aby.”

“Baby?” Clash asked, looking around the room. “Are you talking about Ramona?”

Axl’s head snapped up, his brow crunching in confusion. “Ramona’s pregnant?”

“Shit, you didn’t know? I thought for sure out of everyone here your ass would fucking know. That was your favorite fucking pussy. Yeah, the skank got knocked up and then ran off with Shasta. I bet you five hundred dollars in a few months she shows back up on our doorstep demanding money and shit.”

Axl shot to his feet, and without warning, nailed Clash in the nose with an angry fist. “Never call her a skank again, you fucking hear me, Clash? I don’t give a fuck if you out rank me. Don’t talk about Ramona that way.”

Clash clutched his nose, glaring back at Axl. “Geesh, don’t be so fucking touchy. It’s not my fault you’re hung up on a girl that’s fucked half the club. Besides, it looks like it wasn’t even you that knocked her up.”

“Wrong,” Ranger growled, his eyes narrowing in on Clash. “Lindy’s the one fucking pregnant with Sandman’s kid, so before you run your mouth, know your fucking facts.”

Everyone looked my way. “Is that true, Sandman? Is Lindy pregnant?” Snyder asked.

Nodding, and on the verge of snapping again, I held my temper the best I could. “B—but she wants m—me t—to give up my ri—rights.”

“Yeah, not gonna fucking happen,” Clash snapped as he grabbed a Kleenex to stop the blood from squirting out his nose. Axl hit him hard. “That baby is a baby Lewd Outlaw, and once you’re born into this family, you don’t leave. I’d like to see her try to take away your rights. It’s why I didn’t want Ramona to leave in the first place. If one of us knocked her up, we have the right to see the kid. And if that kid is mine, I’ll make sure she never sees the kid again”

Axl’s fists clenched by his side.

“Hey, just because you got that Secretary patch on your chest, doesn’t mean you can square up to me, young buck. Keep that red head in check, and know your place,” Clash growled.

“Then stop talking about Ramona like that. You guys just don’t know her like I do.”

Clash smirked. “Oh, we know her, just as much as you do. Some of us may even know her better.” Obnoxiously, Clash started making fucking movements with his pelvis, pretending to smack someone’s ass as he made lewd comments. “Oh you like that, Ramona? Yeah, you do, baby. Clash gives it to you good, doesn’t he? Oh god, Clash, you fuck me so much better than Axl, and your dick is fucking huge! I’m swearing off Axl’s pencil dick forever.” Clash smirked. He really was a fucked-up individual and deserved everything that was coming to him.

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