AllFreeNovel
Share Us
But then his dad died, and everything changed for him. His mom might have been an old lady, but she turned her nose up at the club and the life. Her loyalty to the DSMC ended the day her husband died.
She wouldn’t allow the club to help with anything, and I know Lucifer tried back then and throughout the years. It wasn’t about charity; it was about standing behind our brother’s family.
Instead of allowing the club to help take care of her, she put her son and our brother in the position of needing more money and working longer stints on a production rig. If he had been an only child, I don’t think he would have done it, but he couldn’t ignore the needs of his three younger sisters.
We’re all a little pissed at Driller’s mom and her self-serving selfishness. Driller looks more and more run down every time he has shore leave. He’s our brother, but you would hardly know it. He spends two months out on the rig and then is home for one month.
I’m afraid it’s killing him slowly. And I’m not the only one concerned about him.
After his last shore leave, Lucifer went and tried to talk to his mom again. From what I understand, since Scythe went with him as backup, there was a lot of screeching, accusations, and bullshit thrown around. All from her side.
Maybe this time he won’t go back out to the rig.
The club has never opened a tattoo shop because Lucifer knew it was his dream. Hell, I think our Prez has a building that he’s been holding on to just for that purpose.
A throat clears behind us, and we turn as Adam puts a beer down in front of Scythe. “Sorry, it got busy,” he offers, but there’s a hint of worry in his voice that all prospects have when they’re starting out and been given a task that they feel like they’re failing at.
Since the clubhouse isn’t just entertaining brothers, old ladies, and angels, I’m not surprised that he’s being run a little ragged behind the bar. We don’t always open up our parties to hangers on or people loosely associated with the club, but Lucifer thought it would be a good idea to show the RRMC that we’re not scared of them. That is, of course, if they’re keeping an eye on us the same way we are them.
“No problem, Prospect.” Scythe takes a long pull off the beer.
Adam’s voice is curious, “Did I hear you mention someone named Driller? Is he a brother? I don’t think I’ve met him.”
He glances around like he’s expecting to see a patched brother he doesn’t recognize. My heart breaks a little bit because Driller should be here with us. We all understand that he’s taking care of his family which is why we haven’t stepped in.
If he weren’t miserable and feeling like he had no other choice but to go out on the rig, that would be one thing. But he’s not following is dream because he feels like he has to take care of his mother and sisters.
If only she would accept the club’s help.
“Driller works out on a rig,” Prodigal explains. “He had already gone back out when you became a Prospect. When he’s back on dry land, he’ll be around.”
I share a look with Scythe and Prodigal, the three of us hearing what he’s not saying. We hope. We hope he’ll be around.
Adam nods before looking at Prodigal and then me. “Since I’m here, do you need another drink?”
I hold up the bottle I’ve been nursing all night and shake my head. “I have my woman riding with me tonight. I’m good.”
Prodigal smirks at me and he’s damn lucky that I don’t take a swing at him. “I’m good,” he dismisses Adam before turning back toward where our women are still chatting and laughing.
Scythe slaps my back and mutters, “It’s about damn time. I was going to see if any monasteries in the area have a space for you.” I scoff and Scythe stills next to me. “Please tell me you’re fucking your woman.”
“I’m not telling you shit,” I growl menacing at him, but he’s not deterred. Not even a little bit. “She’s still recovering, technically.”
Scythe’s eyebrows shoot up toward his hairline, disbelief written all over his face. He leans a little closer and hisses, “Are you telling me that you’ve given her all this time to heal and haven’t done anything with her while also turning down every advance the angels have made?”
“I will beat you until you’re a bloody heap on the floor if you ever suggest that I would go near an angel when I have my woman right where she belongs—at home,” my voice is threatening and ice fucking cold as I look right in Scythe’s eyes so he can see how serious I am.
He holds his hands up in surrender, one side of his mouth twisting up in a smirk. “I don’t think you could take me down like that, but point made.”
I narrow my eyes and growl, “I would have pure fucking rage on my side, brother, don’t test me.”
Prodigal chuckles from the other side of me and warns Scythe, “I would believe him. It’s one of those acts of God or adrenaline or something. Like when a mom can lift a minivan off her kid. It’s some sort of lizard brain, primal instinct, and it’s very real.”
“I don’t even know why I like you assholes,” I grumble.
Scythe bats his eyes at me like he’s a chick who is horrible at flirting. “Because we’re your brothers and you’re stuck with us.”
“Must be it,” I grunt.
