Page 111 of Kylo
“I know you’re going back to work the day after tomorrow. So I have a bucket list plan for tomorrow night.”
“Oooh. What do I need to do?”
“Wear a nice dress. Maybe get some sea-sickness pills.”
Kylo’s dedication to working through my list never failed to make my heart flip.
He had no idea that there was a whole new list going on in my head now. All with new items involving him.
But we had a lifetime to work on that.
Kylo - 3 Months
“Hey, Doug,” I said, passing by the old man who was parked on the couch in the living room watching last night’s football game with a TV dinner tray in front of him fuckingheapedwith food there was no way his wife (or his doctor) would approve of.
“Where’s that girl of yours? That plant she gave me got my wife off my back for almost two weeks.”
“She’ll be by later,” I told him as I moved through to the kitchen.
Doug had become a fixture in the clubhouse lately. He either knew nothing about our profession, or simply didn’t care because looking the other way allowed him access to great food and half-naked women.
He occasionally brought friends along.
But most of the time, he came by himself, ate, talked to and watched the girls, then headed home.
I’d been right when he’d first shown up; Huck thought it was smartest to keep friendly with the neighbors. With Doug, Charles, and their friend Frank on our side from the fifty-plus community and Claudia, Barbie, Loretta, and Katherine in the assisted living place to sing out praises, we’d cemented our presence in the neighborhood. Sure, we were loud neighbors sometimes. But we also fed them. And Dixon helped the gardening group. Sometimes without a shirt on.
“Fuck you, Benny,” Mackie greeted me, then refocused his attention back on the men sitting around the table eating.
“Haven’t seen your ass around here in a while,” Caymen said as he went to the island to get seconds.
“Please, Huck’s already looking for someone to take over my room.”
I wasn’t wrong, and they all knew it.
That was the nature of the club; it was always expanding. With our deal with Zayn, the demand was higher than ever. And it sounded like Huck was going to be striking up some kind of deal with the new Texas chapter, which might involve some of our guys taking trips out that way. If that happened, we were going to need as many hands on deck as possible.
“We’re having a bit of an open house with the possible new prospects,” Caymen agreed.
This was the first I was hearing of it.
But that wasn’t exactly surprising.
I’d been spending damn near every waking moment with Rue. Or planning some new bucket list outings for her days off. Yes, plural. Rue decided that days off were no longer scary or panic-inducing. So now she had two of them every week.
And while she would likely always have some anxiety and the occasional panic attack, she had really leveled out a lot since Marco was killed and the rest of his crew switched their focus to a garden center whose owner was happy to import whatever theywanted, so long as he got a cut. After a littleconversationwith the OG members of the club, Marco’s old crew went ahead and switched to importing heroin instead of guns.
We were, for the moment, smooth sailing.
I glanced around the men gathered in the kitchen, though, wondering which one of them might be next to find a woman who would bring in some new trouble for the club to deal with.
“So what do you have planned for your woman tonight?” Velle asked.
“In what might turn out to be a terrible idea, we are going on Zayn’s yacht. I made him swear there would be no contraband on board.”
“Where are you guys going?” Velle asked.
“Bahamas for a few days then back.”
