CHAPTER ONE
Remy
“I thought your ass was just hanging out, not participating,” Alaric said as Eddie followed us out toward the driveway where our bikes, and an old, inconspicuous piece of shit car was parked, weighed down with the dozens of guns we had to drop before we could relax for the weekend.
“Who me?” Eddie asked, pretending to look startled. “I am just bringing some snacks for my friends to enjoy if they happen to meet me at the beach after they go on a nice joy ride,” he declared, holding up the insulated material cooler.
“Which beach?” Donovan asked.
“The usual,” Eddie said.
“How the fuck is he supposed to go to the beach in a three-piece suit?” Alaric asked, smirking at Donovan who, admittedly, was a little dressed up for a biker.
As a whole, we were a bit of a jeans and tee type of crew. But Donovan had always been someone who liked his slacks and button-ups. Which was pretty much what he was wearing under his leather cut. Black slack shorts and a gray button-up short-sleeve shirt.
It should have looked fucking ridiculous.
Somehow, though, he pulled it off.
Alaric was more appropriately wearing dark blue jeans and a white tee under his cut, matching what me and Seeley and Eddie had on.
Except Eddie didn’t wear a cut. He didn’t have one. He was, technically, just a hangabout, not an official member. Even if we knew we could count on him in a pinch.
“Aw, man, don’t go underestimating me,” Eddie said, waving toward his car, one of the fancy-ass sports cars he, Donovan, Che, and Che’s woman, Saskia each owned. Since all of them had been a major part in the street racing scene for years before finding themselves in the club in some capacity or another.
With that, Eddie popped his trunk to reveal a blue and white cooler that was, no doubt, loaded down with ice and drinks, and several beach bags where bright colored towels could be seen poking out.
“I got suits and towels, some Bluetooth speakers, and some tanning lotion and sunblock to rub on some fine ladies who might be into that sort of thing,” he told us, smirking.
“You going to get started without us?” Donovan asked.
“Nah, man. I am gonna drop in at The Shop and see if I can help out the workload there,” he said, meaning the repair shop we owned to help make our illegal business dealings less conspicuous. “Figure by the time I am done with that, you’ll be done with your… joy ride. And we can all meet up. Sound good?” he asked, looking at me since I was the most senior member of the club going on the run.
Huck, Che, and McCoy were all at The Shop for the day.
“Sounds good,” I agreed, then turned back to find Seeley talking to his two friends who had just started to prospect for the club, then turn and make his way toward me.
“Don’t worry,” Seeley said, nodding at me. “I told them to take care of your zoo,” he said, smirking.
It was the one thing that would have had me cutting out early from all the fun at the beach, and likely Teddy’s apartment or the town later. The animals.
Dogs, cats, birds, the tortoise. They all had specific needs, and I ranked all of that as much more important than my having a good time.
So, yeah, while it was nice to have the prospects around to do some cleaning and yard work and all that shit that none of us actually wanted to do, I was really enjoying having them to fall back on for letting out the dogs and feeding the animals on their schedule if I wanted to have a little bit of a break here and there.
“They know where—“
“Your absurdly large notebook full of such detailed instructions on animal care that a child could do it is? Yes,” Seeley said, smirking, reaching up to catch the car keys as Alaric tossed them to him since he was the one driving the piece of shit car we had for the job.
As the youngest member, Seeley would look the least suspicious driving a beat-up old thing that we saved from The Shop to use a few times before we scrapped it ourselves.
“Besides,” Seeley said, opening the door to the car. “The women will be hanging around to check on shit. Your animals are fine.”
One glance back at the clubhouse, seeing a couple of my dogs lined up on the couch so they could see out the window, shooting me sad, betrayed looks, said that they didn’t want the prospects or the women to watch them.
A familiar stab of guilt got me for a moment before I reminded myself it was probably good for them to learn to be able to be away from me here and there.
It wasn’t like our lifestyle came with any guarantees. There was a lot of violence and uncertainty. They needed to be okay with other people in case, some day, I didn’t make it home.