Page 17 of Beast
I led Mark outside to the bike, gave him a dome, and helped him on. He looked scared.
“Put your arms around me and hold on. The club isn’t that far away.”
One of the coolest things a young man or boy could experience was the freedom riding a motorcycle gave a person. I felt his arms go around me, and it was one of the most badass feelings I’d ever had.
When we arrived, the Prospects opened the gate, and everyone outside stopped what they were doing to stare. Mark kept his arms around my waist when I parked and switched off the bike.
“I’m scared,” he said.
I climbed off the bike and lifted Mark from his seat. He glanced at my biceps, and his eyes grew wide. He had a special way of making a new dad feel comfortable.
“I’ll get you started in the gym,” I said. “First, I want you to meet some people.”
As everyone crowded around, Mark moved behind me. I got it. We looked like a bunch of mean sons of a bitches. Even some of the old ladies were scary. I introduced all of the club officers, members, and Prospects. Everyone shook Mark’s hand, and he eventually moved next to me.
Skittles came outside and hesitated. I got that, too. She was in a precarious situation as well, especially since Mark had heard she was a whore.
“This is Melissa,” I told Mark.
“Hey,” Melissa said and stuck out her hand.
“Are you my new mother?” Mark’s eyes were mesmerized by Melissa. He looked up at me. “She’s pretty.”
“Thank you,” Melissa said. She reached for his hand. “Can I show you around? Beast has some business to take care of.”
Mark frowned. “Who is that?”
Big Kentucky and Cinder laughed but stopped when I flipped them the finger. I stooped to Mark’s level. “Some of us have nicknames,” I said. “Mine is Beast.”
“Because of your muscles?” He would make this father thing much easier than I had heard.
“Yeah.”
“And because he’s a badass,” Watcher said.
“Come on. I’ll show you around and get something to eat inside.” Melissa slipped her hand around his. “You play video games?”
Mark nodded.
I stepped forward and stopped them, stooping again. I hugged Mark and said, “I’m glad you’re here. Sometimes I have to leave and go do things.” I glanced at Skittles. “Melissa will take good care of you.”
I watched Skittles and my son enter the clubhouse and felt my heart weaken, not something a club president needed. Or maybe I did.
We started toward the garage, and the group stopped when we heard a crash at the gates. A pickup truck had busted through and was headed for the main building. From the corner of my eye, I saw a van pull from a garage bay and ram the truck, sending it careening toward a line of cars waiting for repairs. The truck crashed, and two men, KG9s in hand, jumped out. They were put down before they had a chance to aim.
Neither man wore a kutte, but that didn’t mean they weren’t part of Hell’s Messengers. One of the men still moved. The other had caught a bullet in the temple. I hoped Skittles would keep Mark inside. I’d sit him down soon to explain the club and how things worked. I wanted him to understand that everything I did and every decision I made was for the common good of the club.
“Check their ink,” I said.
Watcher pulled the dead guy’s shirt up. “Hell’s,” he said. He checked the guy still breathing. “Same.”
“Ingles sent two wannabees?”
“No,” Big Kentucky said. “If he were going to retaliate for what we dropped at his door, he’d send something more serious. This shit’s a bad joke. He sent them to die.”
I turned to see Mark looking out one of the windows. He waved, and I waved back. “Wrap these assholes and take them back to Hell’s.”
“Beast,” Cinder nodded toward the local pulling in.
