Virgin (The Henchmen MC 16)

High squeals, gut laughs, end tables toppling to the floor with choruses of Oooh, you're gonna be in trouuuuble.

Leaned back against the bar, long-buried memories tugged at the edges of my consciousness.

Eight dropped down to two.

Me and Sugar.

Two kids in a place never meant for squishy, impressionable minds. Boys forced to shoulder the responsibility of manhood far too young, never allowed to cry, to feel affection and love.

Fuck. I didn't even know what those words meant, to be perfectly honest.

I was a product of a clubhouse. Of rough men with sharp edges that didn't hesitate to cut even young flesh if it got too close.

"What's up?" Sugar asked, sidling in at my right, following my line of vision to where one of the smaller kids - head blocked by the edge of the pool table, making them unrecognizable save for solid foundations and light hair - was doing a real shit - so bad it was comical - attempt to hide from the seeker who was counting down from twenty, missing a few numbers here and there.

"They don't belong here," I mumbled.

"Don't be a fuck," Sugar shot back, shaking his head.

"Not like that," I insisted, shrugging my shoulders. "They don't belong here like we didn't belong in a clubhouse."

"Yah, maybe. But this isn't like that," he reminded me. "Look around. No one is getting head in plain sight. Not a single Devil's Triangle to be seen. No heroin powder on the coffee tables. This is different."

That was true enough.

A lifetime - literally - in MCs had given me a full picture of what they had to offer. And, for the most part, it was some none-too-subtle misogyny, oftentimes horrific hazing of probates, addiction, and violence.

Coming to Navesink Bank had been Sugar's idea. The Henchmen had a great reputation of being stable, of having great leadership, and - thanks to an unfortunate incident that culled their numbers - were needing new members. He said it was time to find some roots, a place we could really settle into instead of jumping MCs every few years because the leaders got locked up and things fell apart.

I hadn't been an unwilling tagalong either. I had participated. I had come to the open house. I had met the crew. I had tried to impress Reign and Cash and Wolf so we could get in.

And there had been no shortage of action thanks to the complex underworld in this particular town on the river.

I had even been happy for a long while.

I didn't know what was going on.

Something was bothering me. Some phantom itch under the skin that no scratching could ease.

Maybe it was as simple as Sugar settling down. Though, maybe, 'settling down' was not the right phrase for what he and Peyton were doing. Anyone who knew Peyton knew that the woman would never do something as mundane as settling down. Not her. Not this woman who had turned over the booth in the diner when we had been out to eat after overhearing some young shits talking about making a girl come and demonstrated with her fingers where the G-spot was located and what rhythm to work the clit to.

No.

Peyton would never settle down.

But she had stolen most of Sug's attention and time.

I had to admit, it had been an adjustment.

If there was one thing I could count on from age of four on, it was that Sugar was going to be around, be down for whatever trouble I wanted to get into.

And it seemed as soon as bonds were formed with my new brothers, a woman came crashing into their lives, dragging them away from the club.

Pagan and Kennedy. Cy and Reese. Edison and Lenny. Reeve and Rey. Adler and Lou. Roderick and Liv.

It was just me and Roan and Cam, the latest addition.

Roan spent most of his time swearing some storm was coming. And Cam, well, he was around. He brought donuts every morning. But, yeah, you couldn't exactly get to know the man. He didn't speak.

If ever I was feeling like an outsider, it was here. Now. In this club full of happy couples and contented children.

I had jobs, duties, allegiances.

But I didn't feel like I had a place, not really.

"You know how I hate the touchy-feely shit," Sugar said to my silence. "But Peyt thinks I am being a shitty friend if I don't say something."

"Something about what?"

"About you. Something's going on. And since you aren't exactly a conversationalist, I guess I have to ask."

"Guess I'm just bored," I said, shrugging it off.

"Bored? Here? Christ, wasn't it just like a year back that we took down V and saved the girls. And before that all the uncertainty about who was after us. Think there's been more action here than the other MCs combined. Raids aside."

"Can't argue with that."

I could feel his gaze on the side of my face, trying to burrow in, trying to understand something that I didn't exactly understand myself.