Page 26 of The Pursuit of Her Happiness

Langley drops back into his seat, his cheeks red from embarrassment, his eyes downcast bashfully, “Oh. Ok. I didn’t know that. I’d still like my human pinata idea noted in the record.”

“I even underlined it for emphasis.” Wilson tells our youngest patch.

“Hayes? Continue.”

Hayes nods at Pres. “The Golem Guerillas in Pittsburgh are only a few years old and they are still finding their footing.However, their shelter is doing amazing work, providing much needed help for abuse victims. I’ve already spoken to Judah, their president, and he has agreed on a trial basis to allow Ford to volunteer at the shelter.”

Adams leans forward, an eyebrow rising in question, “You want to subject women and children who have suffered indignities no human should ever be forced to endure to Ford? Haven’t they suffered enough?”

“I see your point, however,” Hayes responds, “I believe Ford needs immersion therapy, so to speak. He needs perspective. To see firsthand what women, children, even some men experience to remind him of our mission. Our reason for riding.”

Fillmore smirks, “But Pres, Veep, esteemed Treasurer…shouldn’t we ask if Ford finds this plan acceptable?” I hate it when he does this.

“Free men don’t ask permission!” We respond as one. Then Pres rests his knuckles on the table as he stands, leaning over and pinning Fillmore in place with a fierce scowl. “I don’t like you.”

“Love you too,Mr. President.” A chill of disgust travels down my spine. Every fucking time. Fillmore’s imitation of Marilyn Monroe is disturbing…it’s so accurate. And unnatural.

“All in favor of Ford being sent to the Golem Guerillas for rehabilitation?” Not a single nay among us.

“Should he fail…human pinata?” Langley tries once more.

Madison rolls his eyes and sits down in his chair. “I’ll buy you a brand-new bat just for the occasion.”

I think Hayes’ idea has merit. Despite our altercation earlier, I do believe that the Ford I’ve known most of my life is still in there somewhere. I hope the men of the GGMC are able to reachhim since none of us are having any luck. An added bonus, he won’t be around to mess with Quinn.

“Wilson?”

“The groundbreaking ceremony for the multiplex is in four weeks. Everyone is expected to be there. Officers will wear their cuts, but we have been asked to don button down shirts and pants made of a soft material. Oh, and no holes in them either.”

“Your woman is awfully demanding.” Keller mutters.

Wilson smiles triumphantly, “She is.” Madison glares at Wilson and clears his throat impatiently. “Right, sorry. Also, Lincoln and Pierce, our tuxedo fitting is a week after the ceremony.”

“Tuxes?” Buchanan sneers. As a rule, most of us are not fans of dressing up. Jeans, boots, cut…all anyone should ever need in life. Well, except for my scrubs at work, but that’s just practical.

“For my wedding,” Wilson explains. “To the demanding woman mentioned a few moments ago.”

Buck grins, “Whose entire digestive system violently revolts when she consumes the food of her people in some sort of ancestral revenge?”

Wilson kicks Buck under the table while most of us laugh. “She prefers ‘Tilly’.” Wilson glances at me with a shit-eating grin. “You got anything to say, doggy boy?”

Ignoring his jab, I proudly state, “Quinn is mine. Order a property cut, please.”

“Well, now, son, you’re jumping the gun here. The club has to approve anyone being claimed by a member before a property cut can be issued.” Clay holds his hands up to stop me. I might punch him next.

Through gritted teeth, I ask, “And who exactly has a problem with me claiming Quinn as mine?” My fists clench at my sides as I wait for anyone brave enough to challenge me.

Fields raises his hand. “I approve of Quinn as an ol’ lady.” I dip my chin once, but his expression becomes…smarmy. “But not yours. She should be mine. She makes the best potato salad. I could live on that for the rest of my life. Fat and happy with Quinn as my ol’ lady.”

Hayes grunts, reaching around Barkley to smack his son in the back of the head. “Shut the fuck up. You don’t fucking deserve her. And don’t let your mom hear about the potato salad. It’s true, but she don’t need to hear that.”

“Since you’re putting a claim on her, I should warn you that my fiancé has chosen Quinn as a bridesmaid, along with Chastity and Audrey as her matron-of-honor. And you ain’t walking her down the aisle, Tybalt is.”

I lift a shoulder. “Tybs is fine.”

Fillmore risks his life again by speaking up, “Hey, uh, the lobbyists ain’t happy that Chastity is in the wedding party. We need to keep an eye on them, I don’t trust a few of them not to start shit.”

Langley growls, “Ifuckingdare them.” Why won’t he just claim her? It doesn’t make any sense. I don’t think any of us would be opposed to her becoming an ol’ lady, although it’s not typical in the MC community for club whores to be claimed. Chastity, though…just makes sense. She’s sweet and so different from the others. I’ve never been with her, though, she’s like a little sister to me. Not to mention, the connection between her and Langley has been obvious since the beginning, when he was still a prospect.

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