Page 35 of Irons

I tried to settle my laugh. “By old lady, which one do you mean? Is it Sunflower, Rainbow, or maybe that Sunshine woman this time?” He was such a damn hippy, talented, but a fucking hippy. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he had more than one woman sharing his bed on a nightly basis.

“It’s Poppy, and it’s her real name, asshole.”

“Did she shampoo it and get the stink out too?” I was more than amused.

“It smells glorious this morning, like fresh pussy.” He licked his lips, and I gagged.

“That’s fucking sick.”

He ran his hand over his beard. “Nope, just one of the benefits to all this masculinity. I can still smell her the whole day after.”

“You’re a sick son of a bitch, Victor. Anyway, how is the Aussie bike design coming along?”

He stretched with his hands behind his head. “Good, the first draft is almost done. Anyway, let’s get back to you. You’re normally in the shop by now. Haven’t seen you all day and it’s almost time for our ride to see Mrs. Hoffman.”

It was getting cold out, but we always rode for as long into fall and winter as possible.

“Nothing is wrong. I just closed a deal for another movie bike and the guys are all hitting their sales goals. Just tying a few things up before lunch.”

He scratched his cheek, and I always imagined he had fleas when he did that shit. “Magnus and Axton said they’re busy today. What’s up with that? They never miss our rides.”

I lifted a brow because he knew better than to ask questions. He was one that didn’t know of the special ops contracts. Not to mention he was my least favorite person, wo I was never always chatty with him.

“Oh, so it’s some of that top secret shit. I get it, keep leaving me out of the inner circle.” He sat straight like he was about to stand.

“It’s not a big deal. There’s an orientation on Monday. They’re heading to the airport to pick up some new hires for Creed’s Lake.” I stood to grab my leather coat, mask, and all my cold weather riding gear.

“Sounds about right, I’ll meet you out front. Oh yeah, when is Creed returning? I wanted to ask him something about the new designer he is bringing on to the team.” We sold enough bikes it was time to bring on another designer. He came across a woman in LA that had the right skills for the job. I was just thankful I didn’t have to go scout one out.

“Tomorrow, but without the boys. He wants to get back to Morgan and he was never really that close to his mom anyway.” I answered.

He chuckled. “Yeah, like most of us. Have you ever noticed that? We’re a bunch of fuck ups that never really had good parents.”

I glared at him. “Your parents are fucking farmers in Wisconsin. They visit once a month, and your mom knits us all hats and mittens. What the hell are you talking about?”

He shrugged. “My parents smothered my ass. It fucked me up.”

I shook my head. “No, the LSD fucked you up. Don’t blame Phil and Martha.”

He pointed at me. “Hey! You have no clue how hard it is to be on a good trip when old Phil drags you out to play with titties all day. That kind of shit fucks with a kids head.”

“You were milking cows, Victor. You lived on a dairy farm. Remember?”

His eyes grew. “Oh yeah.” He scratched his beard again. “Damn, who the fuck was I out there in the barn screwing? Maybe it was just a trip and not real.”

I sighed. “No Victor, that was Daisy the sheep. Remember that’s why they sent you to rehab the first time?” I had to remind him all the time. He’s damn lucky he was a talented artist. He would have been gone a long time ago if he wasn’t. I got a call every week from Martha checking up on him. He was like employing a talented special needs kid. All the drugs kinda messed him up and every once in a while he would have some really weird flashbacks. He also never caught on that Morgan was replacing his pot brownies with normal ones almost on a daily basis. She didn’t want him high while riding his bike.

He looked off into space and I snapped my fingers. “Jesus, Victor. Come back to the present. You and those damn flashbacks.” I shook my head. That asshole had more flashbacks than all of us war veterans put together.

Before long, we were on our way to town to have lunch. All I could think about was Wrenly. I had no clue if they would drop by the shop or go straight to their apartments. I was nervous, mainly because I didn’t know what seeing her would do to me. Hell, I was pretty much willing to hang out with Victorall day if it meant I could avoid it. If I could just get my feelings straight and had even a little hint of what it was going to feel like to see her, it might have helped. Creed wanted to be back before they arrived, but that wasn’t going to happen. I could see him hosting a dinner to welcome them. What made me nervous was the fact that I didn’t get to talk to Creed. I didn’t want to bother him with my insecurities while his mom was literally dying. I just wanted to know how Wrenly reacted when she learned about me. Was she upset about it? Was she asking to see me? I was down to hours or maybe even minutes before I’d see her and I was like a scared little kid.

We froze our asses off all the way into Cold Springs, but the ride was just what I needed. I sat with the old men and was listening to Bill’s story about the prostitutes during Vietnam when my phone rang, and I saw it was Axton.

“What’s up?” I asked.

“We decided to have lunch at the airport. I’m thinking we need to have some sort of welcome to Creed’s Lake gathering for dinner at the community center, because I don’t want Morgan freaking out. You know how she gets, she will push herself into cooking way too much food and you know as well as I do she will invite them over to her place. Do you think you can organize that for us?”

“Now? Like we couldn’t have planned this a week ago?” It was an insane idea.

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