Wolf (Evil Dead MC 4)
Mack nodded. “Will do.”
After chatting with members of the other Chapters for a while, Wolf moved to sit by the fire next to Red Dog. He lowered himself to the ground, leaning back against the log that Dog was using as a backrest.
“How’s it goin’, Dog?” he asked.
Red Dog had a stick in his hand. He pulled a toasted marshmallow from the end of it, and then smashed it between two graham crackers and some chocolate. “Just peachy.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Wolf asked with a frown.
“Makin’ s’mores. Want one?” Dog offered the stick to Wolf, who shook his head.
“What are you, twelve?”
“S’mores are fucking fantastic. Don’t gotta be twelve to enjoy one.”
Wolf’s eyes dropped to the bag of marshmallows at Dog’s side. “Is that what you had in that bag from the quick-rip mini-mart earlier?”
Dog grinned. “Maybe.”
Green leaned back against another log, took a long toke off a joint and stared up at the night sky. “Look at all those stars, man. They make you feel so insignificant.” Then in classic Green fashion, he switched topics out of the blue. “When I die, I want one of you to go to my funeral dressed like the grim reaper. Don’t say anything, just stand there.”
Wolf looked over at Dog. “Is he high?”
“Yup.” Then Red Dog popped another bite of s’more in his mouth, licked his fingers, and replied, “Everyone at my funeral gets a stun-gun. The last one standing gets all my stuff.”
Wolf chuckled, taking a hit off his long-neck bottle of beer.
Crash and Cole ambled over and sat down on the end of the log.
“Got an announcement to make, boys,” Crash proclaimed.
All eyes turned toward him.
“Shannon’s and I are gonna have a baby.”
Cole slugged him in the arm with a big grin, just as surprised as the rest of them apparently. “Congratulations, Brother.”
Green sat up and passed him a bottle of Jack. “You knocked up your ol’ lady? Good job, bro.”
Crash accepted the bottle and took a slug of the whiskey with a sheepish grin as the rest of the men toasted with shots of whiskey and ribald comments about his prowess as a man.
Green sat back, crossed his legs at the ankle and admitted, “So far, my only accomplishment in life has been not having kids.”
“Yeah, Green, and society is really grateful,” Red Dog replied toasting another marshmallow over the fire.
Cole looked over at Crash. “Let me give you some advice on dealing with a pregnant woman.”
“This should be good,” Wolf put in with a grin at Crash, taking a slug from the bottle of whiskey being passed around.
“Unless you are physically dying, and I mean shot six times and about to pass out from blood loss, do not, I repeat, do not complain about any of your ailments. Any gripes you have about being tired or achy will not be met with sympathy, Brother.”
The men all chuckled.
Cole continued. “And keep your place stocked with lots of alcohol.”
“Cole, she can’t drink,” Crash protested, giving him an arch look.
Cole eyed him back with a sly grin. “No, but trust me, you’re gonna want to.”