“Got a room for you if you want it. And a cut.”
“Yeah, heard you moved the Fury’s church to the barn on your granddad’s place. But when I said babes, didn’t mean the pig named Babe in the barnyard. I don’t fuck animals. I mean real pussy.”
“We’ll order you one of those fake pussies. Feels like the real thing,” Judge said.
“Speakin’ from experience, big guy?” Rook asked with a smirk.
Judge’s heavy shoulders lifted and dropped. “Lot less hassle, less bitchin’ and cheaper in the end.”
“A-fuckin-men,” Rook said, then turned to Trip. “Ended up here after tryin’ to buy some bitch weed just to get down her fuckin’ pants. No pussy’s worth prison.”
A-fuckin-men to that, too.
“Got time because you fled, made those fat fuckers run, and then fought ‘em, Rook,” Judge reminded him. “Shoulda taken the slap on the wrist instead of creatin’ a cluster-fuck. Then you wouldn’t have been here for months with no pussy, fake or real. Though, an asshole might do in a pinch.”
“Not if it’s fuckin’ hairy,” Rook muttered.
“All right,” Trip interrupted. He was not there to talk about fucking another man’s ass. He wasn’t there to talk about pussy, either. “So, you in?”
“What’s in it for me?”
“Like I said, a cheap place to lay your head that’s not under your pop’s roof, stocked kitchen, stocked bar. Most importantly, a brotherhood.”
“Yeah, I remember how that all worked out. Also remember my mother up and fuckin’ leavin’ us after all that shit went down. Not enough good memories to wanna be a part of somethin’ like that.”
“Buildin’ somethin’ worthwhile.”
“For who? You? Or for all of us?”
Rook saying “us” was a step in the right direction. It meant he’d been considering it. Especially since Dutch and Cage were now wearing BFMC cuts.
“Know you got blood to watch your back. Some of us don’t. How the Fury was before that whole disaster... while it wasn’t perfect, we were all family, blood or not.”
“Buck was a bastard.”
Trip wasn’t going to argue that fact about his own father. “Yeah.”
“You gonna preside at the head of the table like he did?”
“Might be prez now but that doesn’t mean I’ll still be prez next year. You know how it works; the patched members vote. My ass could be voted out if I suck as prez.”
“Cage said he’s not prospectin’ and I wouldn’t have to, either. That right?”
“Right. Fury blood is Blood Fury. Now and always. You’d get your rockers, your cut and a vote the second you walk out these fuckin’ doors. Fact, we’ll even give you a fuckin’ escort on the way home.”
Rook twisted some of the wiry hairs of his beard between two fingers as he considered everything Trip said. And Trip let him work it out on his own.
“Sig out?” Rook finally asked.
Last he checked. One stupid move and that could change. “Yeah.”
“But he’s not in.”
“Not yet.”
“I’ll think about it.”
“All I can ask.”
“What’s the pussy situation? ‘Cause if there are no club whores, who’s gonna suck my dick?” His hand dropped below the table to grab his crotch.
“Word spreads the Fury has risen again, sure it’ll be no time before the sweet butts are swarmin’,” Trip assured him.
“Yeah,” Rook said on a sigh. “Need ‘em to take care of me and my shit. One thing I always envied about the patched members when we were kids. You wanna fuck, you fuck. They never said no. They’d bring your ass a beer, suck your cock, then go do your fuckin’ laundry.”
Trip remembered one female hang-around, not even a sweet butt yet, told to strip naked, get on her hands and knees and lick the brother’s boots clean. She did.
Nothing like seeing a naked woman willingly licking a man’s dirty fucking boots. Trip had to have been six or seven at the time and he never forgot it. First time he recalled seeing pussy, too. In fact, Trip remembered the brother’s road name was Tin Man, or Tinny. Tinny had called him, Sig and Judge over and...
Fuck.
Trip squeezed his eyes shut trying to wipe out not only that scene, but one where if Pete’s ol’ lady had stayed, kept Stella as part of the club...
His temperature began to rise as he couldn’t stop his mind from replacing Stella with that woman.
If any of his brothers did that shit, he’d end up back in prison for sure. He was going to have to draw a line and make that line clear when it came to any hang-arounds and sweet butts.
He could see Stella squeezing his nuts until they popped if he encouraged that shit or even allowed it.
“Long as they keep clean—meanin’ not bringin’ in drugs, not sellin’ themselves, anything that’ll bring the law down on us—they’re welcome. But the moment one of ‘em brings trouble, she’s out.”
“Fair enough. You want ‘em sweet and innocent.”