Doc (The Kings of Mayhem MC Tennessee 2)

This year, Merrick asked me to help him organize the event, and I agreed because Merrick is like my kid brother. He’s a jokester and a player, but he has a good heart and would do anything for me. And in all honesty, helping to organize this has been a welcomed reprieve from my obsession with finding Lily. It’s kept me occupied instead of completely succumbing to my overwhelming depression.

Tomorrow, we’ll ride for Sofie and Bobbi-Lynn, but before that, we have the Fourth of July celebrations tonight, and if it’s one thing the Kings of Mayhem know how to do, it’s how to put on a party. Despite the ride the following day, we like to do the Fourth of July big.

Food. Family. Fun. And there’s usually some kind of live music.

My brothers are itching to join their family out on the lawn and get started, so after finalizing the plans for tomorrow, Jack brings down the gavel, and the room empties quickly.

Only, just as I reach the door, Jack stops me.

“I know,” I say before he even gets a word out. “I was late. It won’t happen again.”

“Good, make sure it doesn’t. But that isn’t why I asked you to hang back.”

“It’s not?”

Jack’s eyes are intense, but his face is completely expressionless. You never know what he’s thinking.

“I’m your president—”

“I know, and like I said, I won’t disrespect you by being late to Church again.”

Jack ignores my comment.

“But I’m also your friend, Doc. We’re brothers. And I’m about done watching you lose yourself over what happened. You still seeing Dr. Warner?”

About a month after I escaped the UFO Hotel, Jack made me see a shrink. He said I needed to talk things out, get my head back on my shoulders the right way around, and work through the darkness in my mind.

It turns out he was right. The weekly sessions with Dr. Warner helped untangle the knots in my brain. He also gave me a few techniques to cope with the anxiety when it crept in. But a few weeks ago, I stopped going to the sessions because I realized that no amount of therapy was going to give me the answers I desperately needed to move forward.

Like, where is Lily?

Is she safe?

Was it all a fucking lie?

“He’s a good guy. Thanks for suggesting it.”

“I didn’t ask if he was a good guy. I asked if you’re still attending your sessions?”

“I stopped a couple of weeks ago.”

Jack doesn’t react. He just fixes his dark eyes on mine. “I suggest you resume them. And by suggest, I mean as your president, I’m telling you. Got it?”

I don’t bother to argue because maybe he’s right.

Instead, I nod, and it’s enough to pacify him.

“Good, now get outta here and join your brothers.” When I turn my back to walk out the door, he stops me again. “And Doc, it wouldn’t hurt you to have a little fun today.”

Fun.

I’ve forgotten what that even looks like.

Outside, it’s a perfect summer day. Blue skies. Warm breezes. Sunshine. The air is thick with the aroma of steaks and hamburger patties on the grill. Kids run around a playground Dakota Joe and Earl built for the club’s little kings and queens, as old ladies set tables and walk in and out of the clubhouse carrying plates and bowls of bread, salads, and greens.

While the band sets up on a temporary stage, loud music bleeds from the speakers. “Tombstone Shadow” by Credence Clearwater Revival.

Pulling on my sunglasses, I step out into the sunshine.

“It lives!” Ghoul says from where he sits at one of the outdoor tables.

I slide in across from him and Merrick.

“You pull a late one last night?” Ghoul asks.

He knows I did a medic run out to Coppertown yesterday but doesn’t know Dakota Joe and I were late coming home.

“Got in just after four this morning.”

“You look like shit.”

“Please, stop with the romantic talk. You’re making me blush.”

I glance around the lawn and see Munster’s six-year-old daughter pulling the six-foot-five giant’s long hair into glittery pink scrunchies. Last week at our strip club, Candy Town, I watched him knock a drunk patron to the floor for groping one of the dancer’s boobs and break his nose when the drunken fool kept trying to fight him. Today, he’s in pigtails and wearing lip balm. You can’t help but feel good when you see that shit.

But when I turn my attention back to Ghoul and Merrick, I notice a look pass between them. “What?”

Ghoul looks uncomfortable, but Merrick can’t help himself.

“It’s been four months, man,” he says.

“Four months of what?” I ask defensively.

Despite two fucking orgasms I’m in a shit mood.

“Since you fucking smiled, asshole,” Ghoul says.

Merrick plays with a paper napkin. “We get it! What happened with Lily fucking sucks, man, but you’ve got to put it behind you. We’ve all lost our head over some babe—”