Page 32 of Silver Spoon MC Collection: Loni's Crew

CHAPTERTHIRTY-TWO

BENDER

I’m ready for this tour to end. “I don’t have time for this shit.” I answer my phone without checking the caller ID, assuming it’s my manager calling again.

“Aren’t you Mary fucking Sunshine,” Cash growls. “Do you have five minutes?” Of course, I can’t resist my friend’s request.

“Sorry,” I tell him. “I thought you were Louis calling to give me hell.” My fucking manager has been shitting himself since I informed him I’m hanging up my guitar at the end of this tour. His incessant calls and messages, all of them pleading for me to change my mind, are starting to get on my last goddamn nerve. “Louis is driving me nuts.”

“So, you finally grew some balls and told him you’re quitting?” When I visited Silver Spoon Falls for Cash’s wedding, I had a long talk with my brothers, letting them know this is the last time I’m going out on tour. After twenty years in the music business, I’m tired, frustrated, and ready for a change. I have no idea what the future holds for me, but I plan to take a while off and figure that shit out.

“And it went over like a fart in church.” I groan. That’s an understatement. I thought my overweight, over-stressed, two-packs-a-day smoker manager would have a heart attack. “But I’m ready to move on.”

“I’m happy for you. And I’m glad there will be another brother in town.” For now, at least. I’m not sure what the future holds for me.

“Enough of the gushy shit. Why did you call?” I know he’s up to his eyeballs in bullshit back in Silver Spoon Falls. We’ve been dealing with a moron Prospect who fucks up at every turn. Before joining us, the little shit conveniently forgot to tell us about his outstanding arrest warrant, and our standard investigation didn’t pick it up since the small-town judge neglected to list it nationally. We discovered his little secret when the county updated its computer system, reissuing all outstanding warrants across the nation. His stupidity brought the law to our front door. The Silver Spoon MC isn’t an outlaw MC, and we keep our noses squeaky clean. We took a chance on the little asshole as a favor to his brother, the mayor of Silver Spoon Falls, and it came back to bite us in the asses. Between the Brady shit, all the love in the air, and family upheaval, Cash is catching himself in both directions.

“I need a favor.” He sighs. Fuck me. Those words send dread coursing through me. The last time I did a favor for one of my brothers, I spent the entire evening at the Silver Spoon Falls Entertainment Society banquet listening to their stories. “My sister would like to interview Penelope Rocha for Curvy Cuties Magazine. They’re doing a story on fashion-forward, curvy women in the entertainment industry.” That’s an easy one that doesn’t require pain and suffering.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I tell him. “But you’re going to owe me.”

“Anything,” he agrees. “Just wait until I dig myself out of this fucking hole.” Then he hangs up.

I plan to hold him to his promise. Once I figure out what in the hell I want.

Things go to hell in a handbasket after my conversation with Cash. Louis convinces me to do two extra months ofgoodbyeshows before retiring. I talk to the other band members, and they agree to extend the tour. With my decision to retire, they agreed they were ready to retire also. It takes an act of God, but we manage to schedule forty extra concerts. It’s a hellish schedule, but I keep reminding myself that it will all be over soon. Once I made the decision to retire, I lost the desire to live this nomadic life any longer.

Back home, the MC is dealing with a shit-show. The brothers are dropping like flies as cupid bites them in the ass. Poor fuckers. When the Hells Vipers MC attacked Cowboy’s woman, Kyra, after mistaking her for Hadley, her identical twin and Cash’s wife, the entire club stepped in to help protect the women. They’re finally getting the upper hand on the other club, but it’s been touch and go for a while. With all the shit going down in Silver Spoon Falls, Cash didn’t want his little sister caught in the crossfire, so he asked me to delay the interview until things settle back down.

CHAPTERTHIRTY-THREE

BENDER

Four Months Later

Tonight was Bent’s last concert. The moment was both bittersweet and long overdue. We played a benefit show for the hurricane recovery project in Houston, then walked off the stage for the last time. After we finish up the interviews and after-party, I’m blowing this popsicle stand and heading home to Silver Spoon Falls just in time for Thanksgiving.

After I pig out on Gloria’s delicious meals, I’ll need to add a ton of exercise to my schedule of doing next to nothing. Gloria and her husband, Rulie, run the clubhouse and take care of all my MC brothers. The tough cookie keeps us in line while giving her husband a run for his money. I’m looking forward to heading home for retirement. I plan to sleep until noon and concentrate on absolutely zilch for the next several months.

The elevator dings, and I know someone with suite access is about to come in. I glance over and watch my two bandmates step out of the elevator.

“I have the interview with your President’s sister in fifteen minutes,” Penelope Rocha, the band’s bassist, drops down onto the leather sofa next to me. Razor, our drummer, sits on the overstuffed chair across from us. Fuck. I forgot all about that. It’s not surprising that the magazine dedicated to beautiful, curvy women would want to interview Pen. She rocks her tattoos and abundant curves in figure-hugging getups. Several generations of girls and women emulate her unique style.

“I owe you one.” I take a sip of my beer and wince when the warm liquid hits my tongue. I’ve been nursing this for way too long.

“I’m happy to do it,” Pen tells me. “London Montoya is a sweetheart.” She shrugs. “I’ve been talking to her on the phone for a while. We’re going to finish up our interview and take pictures tonight after she checks into the hotel and gets settled. Her plane was delayed, and she went straight to the concert from the airport.” This is all news to me. I was too busy concentrating on the last show to worry about anyone else. Especially London Montoya. I’ve heard from several brothers that Cash’s little sister is a stunning woman, but I value my family jewels too much to even dream of going down that road.

We’re interrupted when the elevator dings before the door opens to reveal my haggard-looking manager. “Can I talk to you?” He rushes in and stops at the bar to pour himself a drink. Fuck me. I thought Louis had given up, but the hopeful look on his ruddy face tells a different story.

I suddenly regret my earlier decision to send Grizz down to the nightclub to make sure all the security preparations are in order. My long-time bodyguard would’ve made up a convenient excuse for me to escape.

Grizz has been with me from the beginning. When Bent shot to stardom, I asked my MC brother to assign me a temporary bodyguard. Giant sent the massive, hulking brute to me, and he blended into our eclectic band family perfectly. Somewhere along the way, Grizz became family and I ended up keeping him. He’s technically employed by Giant’s company, Carmichael Security, but he’s been exclusively working on my detail for years.

I tried to talk my friend into retiring in Silver Spoon Falls with me, but he lives for the action. He knows the Silver Spoon MC compound is safe as hell and doubts I’ll need protection once the retirement hullabaloo calms down. Grizz is ready to move on to some other celebrity in need of his help. Giant assigned him to a top-secret project that starts in two weeks. I’m happy for my friend, but I’ll miss him like crazy.

“I’m kinda busy,” I tell Louis, hoping to avoid the drama.

“It’ll only take a few minutes.” Sure, it will.

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