“I just wanna make sure he’s treatin’ you right. I’ve told him I have zero tolerance for any shit he does that hurts you.”
Shaking her head, Kylie’s blue eyes sparkled. “Poor Jerry. You’ll never ease up on him, will you?”
“No fuckin’ way. I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be that way until I die. You gonna stay for supper?”
“Yes. Jerry’s playing poker with the brothers at Throttle’s house. I’m surprised you’re not over there.”
“I have too much shit on my mind to concentrate on the game so I passed this time. Maybe next month.”
“You getting one of your headaches?”
Banger nodded and she rose to her feet and moved behind him, placing her hands on his shoulders. Slowly she massaged the tight muscles, her fingers working wonders on the knots at the base of his neck. He closed his eyes and let himself relax as memories of a young Kylie flooded his mind.
“Does it feel better?”
“Yeah.” He grasped her hands, brought them to his mouth, and kissed them. “You’ve still got the touch. I remember how you used to have to climb up on a chair to give your old dad a neck rub. You always knew when I needed one.”
“I still do. You need to relax more. Belle told me you have something big worrying you. She said you’re not sleeping well, and you bury yourself in here or at your office at the clubhouse. She’s worried about you, and so am I.”
“Sometimes shit happens and I’ve got to figure it out. That’s what a president does.”
Kylie came back around and plopped down in the chair again. “How much longer are you planning on being president?”
“What the fuck kind of question is that?”
“I mean, don’t you want to slow down a bit? Go on trips with Belle? It’s freezing cold outside, so wouldn’t it be awesome to go to California, take Harley to the beach and to Disneyland?”
“You went to the beach and Disneyland when I was president. As a matter of fact, Harley has it better ’cause I’m older and at home more. I don’t go to the parties unless I have to, and even then I only stay a few hours. I have no intention of stepping down. Did Belle put you up to this?” Kylie hung her head down. “I thought so. I knew this shit didn’t come from you. You’re the daughter of an Insurgent. You know what that means. You grew up with it. Belle still doesn’t understand that this is in my blood and I can’t fuckin’ retire from it.”
“Please don’t be upset with her. She’s only worried about you. Mom used to be too. You know our world is dangerous and can be deadly. Mom at least grew up in the life with Grandpa being in a biker club, but Belle is still trying to assimilate. And she’s scared to death that Ethan and Harley will join the Insurgents.”
Banger shook his head. “I don’t think we gotta worry ’bout Harley since he just turned five and has a while yet to decide if he wants to join. Ethan’s only thirteen, but if he wants to join when he’s eighteen, he’ll have to prospect like all of us did. A lot of guys can’t handle prospecting.”
“I think Belle just wants you to assure her that you’ll talk him out of it if he decides to join.”
“I’m not talkin’ anyone out of joining. When parents start doing that shit, the kids join for sure. The chips will fall where they’re supposed to. Now tell me how you’re liking graduate school.”
“I love it but Jerry hates it. We’re back to commuting, so next semester I’m going to take all my classes online. He’s still a little mad at me for going to grad school. I told him it was always in my plan. I think he’s feeling neglected or something because I study so much. I don’t know.”
“Don’t let him tell you what the fuck to do. He’s a grown man. He needs to deal with it. There are times when he’s gone for days for club business and you don’t give him shit.”
“I know. I shouldn’t have said anything about it. I guess I’m still hyper from finals. I have a month off before next semester starts. I’m excited about doing the semester online. It’ll be good to be home again. I miss Jerry a lot.”
“Can’t say that I’m not thrilled you’ll be back home. I miss you, girl.”
“Me too, Dad.”
Banger pushed up from the chair. “Let’s go to the family room. I’ll get a fire going. The snow’s really coming down hard.”
While they were sitting on the couch, Banger’s phone rang and he saw Hawk’s name flash on the screen. He jumped up and went into the laundry room, closing the door behind him.
“You got something?” he asked Hawk.
“Maybe. Sketcher said he’d heard a shipment of crack was coming through soon. He’s not sure exactly when.”
“Fuckin’ bastards! They’ve got balls to deal that shit in our county.”
“It’s bypassing Pinewood and going to Silverton,” Hawk said.
“Did he say it was the fuckin’ Deadly Demons?”
“Not exactly. He said he thought bikers are involved, but he isn’t sure from which club yet.”
“Tell Sketcher I wanna talk to him tomorrow at Belcroft’s farm off the old highway. I’ll meet him at ten in the morning.”
“I’ll come too.”
“Sounds good. We gotta stop this shit before it gets too big. I wanna know everything I can about these two punk gangs in the Night Rebels’ neck of the woods. Call Steel and Paco and set up a conference call for tomorrow afternoon around three.”
“Will do. You playing poker tonight?”
“Nah.”
“Me neither. It looks like Braxton’s coming down with something, and this whole damn mess with the Deadly Demons is constantly in my head.”
“Mine too, brother. We gotta crush ’em if they’re involved in this shit. I’m not too sure they are, but we’ll talk about that tomorrow.”
When Banger exited the laundry room, Belle came up to him. He looped his arm around her waist and pulled her close, kissing her on the lips. “You smell amazing, woman.”
Her electric blue eyes sparkled. “It’s flour, onions, and garlic you’re smelling. I made pot roast and it’s on the table.” She squeezed him hard. “Take the rest of the night off. We can watch a movie with the kids. I’ll make caramel corn.”
He laughed. “You know me well, woman.” Since he’d been a kid, caramel corn had always been his favorite. He’d used to sneak under the fence when the carnival would come to town during the summers just to buy a bag of it. The other kids he’d go with snuck in for the rides or the games, but he was there just for the caramel corn.
After dinner, Banger sat on the couch, his feet propped up on the coffee table as he channel-surfed. Ethan came over and sat down on the cushy chair by the fireplace, staring at the television screen as images flashed by.
“That was a good dinner your mom fixed,” Banger said, glancing sideways at him.
“Yeah. Pot roast is my favorite. Whaddaya trying to find on TV?”
“Nothing much. Just waiting for the women to get in here so we can watch the movie.” Harley came over and climbed up on the couch. Banger tugged him close and nestled him under his arm.