Page 19 of His Old Lady

Chapter 6

Curley

Smoke filled the meetingroom at the clubhouse. Curley, covered in road dust, and a week's worth of sweat, joined the others in celebrating a successful run into Northern California to oversee the transport of marijuana.

The recent buyout over the killer bud gave them all a little more money in their pocket every month. From here on out, they'd only send a small team every three months down south to keep an eye on the operation. That would allow them to take care of business in Missoula.

"Before you go off to celebrate, remember to get some sleep. There's a meeting at ten o'clock in the morning with the whole club." Priest hit the gavel against the table. "I'm going home."

Curley stood from the table, intending to follow Priest to his driveway and see him safely home.

"Stay back and take some stress off, brother. I'll take Rick with me." Priest clasped Curley's hand. "Good ride, brother. I'll see you in the morning."

"Sounds good." He walked out of the office, snagged Brandi from the hallway out of the line of women hoping to get lucky and hook up with a Tarkio member, and took her into the main room. "Get me a tall glass of whiskey, hon."

Brandi sashayed her ass away from him. He took that time alone to seek out Aaron. While he was gone, he'd talked to his MC brother and found out that Faye had spent the whole night with Tracy and left the next day at noon.

"Hey." He lifted his chin and motioned Aaron away from the others.

Near the door, he said, "Did you have someone ride over to Superior throughout the week and check on Faye?"

"Slick went and spent a few hours each day watching her place. Most of the time, she was out in the greenhouse. One day, she had a few girlfriends swing by the house, but stayed home." Aaron passed Curley a joint. "I know Tracy enjoyed having her over, too."

"I imagine she did." He exhaled the smoke, passing the stub back. "Thanks for keeping an eye on her for me."

As long as Faye stayed away, she could live her life how she wanted.

Brandi returned, handing him the drink. He looped his arm around her and took her to the couch. Kicking the boot of a prospect, moving him off the seat, he took the spot on the sofa and pulled Brandi down on his lap.

The long ride was hard on his body. Sleeping on the fucking ground killed his back. All he wanted was the alcohol to numb the pain and a woman's softness to cushion him.

Brandi trailed the palm of her hand down his chest. "Want me to make you feel good?"

"Just sit still and stop talking." He drank half the contents and let his head fall to the back of the couch.

Brandi pouted. He ran his thumb over her lower lip, admiring her pliable mouth. He'd like nothing more than to shove his dick into that warm wetness.

Paco jumped over the back of the couch and sat beside him. Nudging Brandi, he said, "Dance for us, honey."

She slid off his lap, unbuttoned her shirt down to her navel, giving a glimpse of tit, and moved to the music. Without looking at Paco, he knew his MC brother had something to say.

Reaching into his pocket, he removed a ten-dollar bill and held it out. "Take the top off."

Brandi snatched the cash out of his hand, then worked the last two buttons loose without stopping her hips from moving. Once the material was gone, she removed her bra. She shook her shoulders, but her small breasts barely jiggled. That disappointed him.

"Alright, Paco. Spit it out," he said, losing patience.

"I want to be excused from the meeting tomorrow." Paco leaned closer. "It's important."

"Personal?"

Paco stroked his beard. "No."

"Tarkio?"

Paco dipped his chin. "Right now, I'd like to keep this to myself. If I find out the rumor is true, I'll meet with you and Prez straight away. I could be wrong, and I don't want to involve anyone unnecessarily until I do."

His MC brother hadn't missed any meetings. Paco was loyal. He enjoyed himself, but he'd seen how serious he took Tarkio business.

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