AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Not yet road captain back then, I only earned the rank once Jumper decided to spend more time with his grandkids and a brand-new twenty-year-old wife.
Most of the club’s management remains the same as when the Kovak Syndicate took over Banta City. Our club mother is still tight with Katja Kovak. Well, as tight as two devious women can be.
Like most of us around here with the O’Malley last name, Aunt Fred wasn’t born with it. Her marriage to Elvis linked the O’Malley family with the Callaghan one. Though she’s tight with her extended family in the hills, Aunt Fred is also a big believer in family being more than sharing a bloodline.
“Family is what your heart claims, not what you’ve been sentenced to,” Aunt Fred told me on the first day I arrived at her farm.
She and Elvis have long run a group home for wayward boys. The state often has too many of us—wild, rude, downright incorrigible fuckers—to service. We either ended up at Aunt Fred’s farm or juvenile hall.
My birth parents struggled with drugs, loving it more than each other, me, or themselves. For years, I bounced around from one loser family member to another. That’s how I know I come from a long line of trash.
The foster families weren’t much better. The two I stayed with were holy rollers, hoping to beat me into righteousness. They vastly underestimated my pain level and ability to hold a grudge.
As I arrive at the Happy Beaver strip club, I smile at the vivid memories of burning down those foster homes. Everyone knew I did it, yet no one could prove a damn thing.
I absolutely fucking loved to burn shit as a kid. All my rage disappeared as I watched the flames grow.
“Those flames don’t care about you,” Aunt Fred told me not long after I arrived at her farm and tried to burn down the barn. “We care about you. We see you. We hear you. We want you to grow to be a man. Can you want that for yourself?”
I didn’t particularly care whether I lived or died by then. I was always a little bit of a nihilist. The world meant nothing. I was worthless. Might as well burn it all down.
Except Aunt Fred is magic. She often wears a soft smile as if recalling a funny joke from long ago. Her wavy, brown hair used to skim my face when she’d lean down to see me after I’d gotten my ass kicked by starting a fight I couldn’t win.
“Always with your growling,” Aunt Fred would tease when I was furious over something. “The farm has its very own bear.”
The woman saved my life. Getting hooked on her affection and approval made me forget about burning down the world. Once I cared about her, I could no longer claim nothing mattered.
That’s why I’m Bear O’Malley now rather than dead or in prison. A woman’s love holds a lot of power.
However, a woman’s love can also burn you up inside. I learned that the hard way with Natasha Kovak.
As we enter the strip club, I don’t give the topless women a second glance. Years ago, women lost their allure. I’ve often wished I could settle for an ordinary chick. If I aimed lower, I’d be happy.
But I wanted someone like Aunt Fred—beautiful, smart, and with a heart strong enough to see past the world’s ugly reality to its beautiful possibilities.
Instead, I’ve ended up with a longing in my chest where my heart used to beat.
Tonight isn’t the time to nurse old wounds over the blue-eyed blonde who acted as if she might love me. Like I always assumed would happen, Natasha bailed once she witnessed the asshole hiding underneath my good-looking exterior.
As we move through the strip club, the off-duty cops don’t react to our presence. We’re just the muscle, and most of these assholes have hassled us out on the road before.
At my side is Tack O’Malley, who quietly sizes up targets around us. He cons a lot of people with his laid-back demeanor and soft blond looks. Plenty of fools have poked the pretty boy, only to find out he’s quick to throw a punch and slow to settle down.
At my other side is Indigo O’Malley. His longish brown hair is tied back tonight, revealing scars across his jaw and throat. His dark eyes hide none of his hate for the dirty cops or the strippers wearing the same haunted gazes as the women at the local women’s shelter. Though my club brother often struggles to stay focused on the problem at hand, he’ll be ready to brawl if things go south.
Behind us, Golden, Pork Chop, and Claw linger back at the door, keeping watch as our club VP and Aunt Fred arrive.
Dressed in a flowered top and faded blue jeans, Aunt Fred looks like a church lady come to save our souls. She really knows how to sell the sexy grandma vibe.
Top-cop shithead, Alec Brennan, finally appears once he sees the power players enter the field. He ignores me and the other guys and goes straight to kiss Aunt Fred’s ass. She offers him a sweet, almost sheepish smile as he shakes her hand.
Our club VP is her brother-in-law. Noble O’Malley might sport gray in his nearly black hair and beard these days, but time hasn’t killed his ability to play the nice guy to his older brother’s asshole role.
Zoot O’Malley isn’t here for the same reason he doesn’t go to most meetings. Our president’s temper makes dealmaking impossible. He refuses to offer a smile or even a head nod to someone he doesn’t like. And Zoot doesn’t really like anyone.
“Come on back,” Alec says and gestures to them.
Aunt Fred gives me a little nod, indicating she wants me to stick close to her. I follow after her and my VP down a back hallway. We don’t stop at the strip club’s office, instead walking to an empty storefront next door.
