Page 22 of Loch
“Next, Brandon,” he continued. “Think it’s about time to patch that boy in. He’s been loyal and has managed to keep his nose clean. All for?” The room erupted with ayes all around. Not that I had any doubts. Cal bangs his fist on the table. “Stone, tell Mel we’re havin’ a party. Friday night. We’ll tell him then.”
Bocca was grinning like a kid in a candy store. Everyone else looked pleased. Party was the magic word. Not that they weren’t happy about Brandon finally getting his patch.
“We need to open somethin’ else. I’m open to suggestions. The shop is doin’ good. We’ve got the bar but we all know that’s a joke, mostly an extension to this place.” There were a few short laughs. “Somethin’ that will actually make money, not just hide it. We all can feel it comin’ and we need to start bein’ serious about makin’ the move to legit. We cut out the drug runs years ago and now we got one thing left. I want to make sure we are topside on things before we end it.”
I couldn’t agree more. I was getting older, time to cut out the shit. Going legit seemed the best road to take for this club and leave a better legacy than what we had been left with.
With that, Cal asked if there was anything else to discuss at the table. No one had anything and so he ended the meeting. We all shuffled out to the bar area and had beers.
After one beer I headed out. I needed to shower. It had been hot that day and working under a car in that heat made me a sweaty, filthy mess. Normally, I might not care as much, but I knew I was heading to the bar. I knew I was going to see Reagan.
By the time I got home and cleaned myself up, it was well after dark. I headed out the door and noticed the new car was still in Ethel’s driveway. I resisted the urge to run over there and make sure she was okay. Instead, I headed to the bar. I figured if something was up someone would have let me know. If she was in trouble, Ethel would have called. If she wasn’t at work, Chris would have called. And since my phone hadn’t rung, I guessed everything was fine. Although, I was a little pissed at the thought of how she had gotten to the damn bar.
When I pulled up to the bar there was a row of bikes out front. Looked like the brothers had gotten bored of the clubhouse already. Everyone was going stir crazy and needed a little change. I pulled the door open and saw Reagan behind the bar. She was talking to Bocca with a giant smile on her face. As soon as I entered her eyes looked up and met mine like she knew I was there. For a heartbeat I saw them flicker with happiness. But then, like lightning, her walls went up and her body became rigid as the smile slipped from her face. Before I had a chance to go over and talk to her, Axe caught my attention and call me over to the pool table. I shuffled over to the guys, knowing that I wasn’t going to get anywhere with Reagan.
I was a little surprised to see Tank and Stone there. They had more going on at home than most of us, and that’s where they usually chose to be. I got it. If I had a better reason to be home than frozen processed food and whatever I could find on TV, I would probably be there too.
“Glad to see you out, brother,” I said to Tank. The last few years had been rough for him. But he always kept his head up.
“Mom’s watching Grass for the night.” He gave a half smile. Which led me to believe he was glad to have the free time, but at the same time he hated being away from his son.
Grass was his almost four-year-old boy. He was a hyper little hellion. But in a good way. From the moment he could walk, he was always into something. Which many times led to Tank yelling at him when he got that look of up to no good in his eyes. And that saying Tank always barked was ‘don’t do it or your ass is grass’. And since the kid loved to push the limits, he would do whatever mischievous thing he was thinking. Eventually, we all started jokingly calling him Grass. A name I was sure would stick for a lifetime.
His little boy was the light of his life. He did everything for that boy. I always got the sense that part of him thought that he had to make up for the fact that the boy’s mom wasn’t around. She couldn’t take being a mother and left town three months after he was born. I knew Tank blamed himself. He felt like he couldn’t save her. Her love of drugs and the next best party was all too much. She couldn’t handle motherhood. And in my opinion, they were better off without her. Something I would never voice out loud.
“Mel told me she’s too tired to deal with me tonight,” Stone cut in. “She said she was going to get the kids to bed then go down herself. Told me to sleep at the clubhouse if I was going to get too drunk to be quiet.” We all let out a laugh. That was her subtle way of getting him to have a night out. She was a fucking awesome woman. Sometimes, I envied what they had.
“Here.” I heard Reagan’s voice come from right behind me. The guys went quiet as I turned around. Her hip was cocked out and I could practically feel the anger rolling off of her. She had an opened beer held out towards me.
“Thanks,” I said as nicely as I could, but she turned and walked away as soon as I grabbed the bottle. I turned back and was met with raised eye brows and knowing faces from a few of the guys. I shook it off and steered the conversation in another direction.
After a while, I made my way to the bar. I was talking with Axe and Diesel but my eyes kept roaming over to watch Reagan. She was avoiding me. She hardly looked at me all night. Bocca had spent a good amount of time sitting at the other end of the bar chatting her up. She seemed at ease with him, if not a bit flirty. I was too far away to hear what they were talking about. My heart raced and the blood in my veins boiled every time she laughed at something he said. I felt her slipping away and I only had myself to blame. It wasn’t like I even knew why it mattered. I was doing my best to not have anything with her. Keeping her at arm’s length was getting harder. And seeing her act interested in someone else was driving me fucking crazy.
“Brand!” her voice rang out over all the noise of the bar.
I turned my attention to the door where Brandon had stepped in. He smiled at her, then his eyes quickly darted over to me. His face fell and he looked down. Like a defeated child, he walked over to Axe, Diesel, and me. I had to remind myself to take in normal breaths and keep my hands from curling into fists. I didn’t need to direct my anger and frustration at him. He had helped me out a lot lately. I had a feeling that coming to stand with me was a deliberate choice. His way of letting me, and the room, know that he was putting distance between himself and her. That his loyalty was with me. Smart. He never did anything without forethought.
“Brand?” I asked with a raised brow. He shrugged. Reagan walked over with a beer for him and set it down right in front of me. She didn’t move her hand until he grabbed it.
“Yeah,” she said looking at me, coldness in her eyes. “Cool ‘cause it has a double meaning. You know, short for his name, but also because he brands people with art.” With that, she walked off with more sway in her hips than normal. I smiled as I watched her perky ass. She was pissed and she was hell-bent on torturing me. I’d spent so much time and energy trying not to look at her. Trying not to memorize her every swell and curve. And when I did look, I itched to run my fingers all over them.
“She come up with that?” I asked.
“Yep,” Brand replied looking at me, trying to gauge how pissed I was.
“Fits. I like it.” I swear I felt him blow out a sigh of relief. I knew he wasn’t going to do anything to jeopardize getting a spot in the club. I also knew he wouldn’t do anything to purposely stir up drama with anyone. I had a sense it was more of a friendship between them. I got the feeling that was something she really needed, and I wasn’t going to be the one to stand in between it.
“She didn’t take the car here,” I said once Brandon and I were alone.
“Yeah, I didn’t see it out there. You know how she got here?”
“No,” I said before taking a long swig of my beer, finishing it. I set the empty down on the bar, then rubbed the back of my neck. Reagan appeared with a fresh beer right away. I grabbed her wrist as she started to turn around. My fingers tingled and her skin felt so soft against my rough palm.
“What?” she said in a clipped tone.
“How’d you get here?” I asked flatly.
“Walked.” She pulled her arm free and walked off.
