Page 2 of Wreckage of My Life
The brief conversation I just had with my father is on a loop in my head. What could he need out in Wisconsin out of all places? We are in Texas. We don’t do business with anyone in the Midwest. Our turf stretches west of here.
The hand on my cock tightens its grip, the whores’ moans getting louder, sign that they’re both coming. With a thud, I drop my head back, close my eyes and come, the sticky mess pooling onto my stomach and around my belly button. I don’t open my eyes when I feel soft lips and tongues licking me clean.
“Can we stay here today?” one of them asks once they’re done.
“Not today,” I grunt, and, with no little effort, I force myself to get out of bed. I really just want to take a nap. “I’m gonna go take a shower.”
I stand with my back to the bed and jump when I feel teeth nipping gently at my buttocks.
“Can we join you? We’ll help clean you up.”
As much as I’d love that, because they are making me a very tempting offer, I got shit to do. I need to figure out what the fuck is going on with this Wisconsin shit.
“Not today. Be gone by the time I’m out.” My voice sounds a little harsher than intended, but then again, I don’t have to worry about hurting anyone’s feelings here. They know the drill, and they don’t linger.
Once I am cleaned up, I pull on the same pair of jeans I had on last night but grab a clean t-shirt out of the dresser drawer. My mom always makes sure I have clean laundry. I throw my club cut over and slick my wet hair back. At the last minute, I remember to grab the baseball cap I always have on backwards.
I almost jump out of my skin when I open the door abruptly, and my mother is standing there.
“Geez, Ma, you scared the shit out of me,” I chuckle. “And that’s not an easy thing to do,” I point out. I could’ve put a bullet in her head for fuck’s sake.
Her eyes look sad and full of unshed tears, staring at me like I am about to go to war.
“Don’t do it, Dylan.”
The tone of her voice makes me pause. Also, she doesn’t call me by my given name very often. That’s really saved for more special occasions.
“What are you talking about?”
“This run he wants to send you on,” she whispers. “Don’t do it. I got a bad feeling about it.”
“How do you know of any runs, Ma?” I throw my arm around her shoulders and pull her into a side hug. “You know you’re not supposed to talk about anything you hear.” I also know that she is usually aware of everything that happens, but she is a great president’s on’ lady, and she never talks about anything.
Until now.
This is the first time I can remember since I officially joined the MC that my mother came to warn me about something.
“I can’t lose you, too, Dyl.” She is about to start crying now.
“What are you talking about, Ma? Who else did you lose, huh?” I tease her, then try to remember if anyone she was more attached to may have died recently.
“Ever since I lost Wyatt, you’re all I got,” she whimpers.
Ah, my brother. The prodigal son. At least in my mother’s eyes. She would forgive him anything. My father on the other hand, not so much.
My brother, Wyatt, left the family, the club, hell,the state, the second he graduated high school. He wanted to become a lawyer, and being tied to a motorcycle club was not his goal in life. He never wanted to prospect for it, and he always wanted to pretend like he was better than the rest of us.
Although, I remember a time or two when he did take advantage of the perks associated with being in the club. Meaning, the club whores. Little Wyatt learned all kinds of things and had a complete Master’s in pussy by the time he left.
The thought is making me laugh, a Master’s in pussy. That’s really funny.
“Wyatt doesn’t want to have anything to do with us, Ma, you included,” I make sure to point out. “He came to visit what, three times since he left fifteen years ago? I’d never see him if I didn’t reach out once in a while.”
“You know why, Dylan. Your father…”
“Yeah, well, he’s right not to wanna see the fucker. He’s a traitor, and he’s lucky we didn’t put a bullet in his head when we had the chance.”
“Dylan, you don’t mean that.” And now she is crying in earnest.
