Page 60 of Truck

“Married? You want to get married?” Rory again looks shocked.

“Of course. I’m not playing house, Rory. I’m in love with you, and I know you are with me. You don’t even have to say it. But of course, we’ll get married whenever you want to. If you want a posh wedding, we’ll do that, but I’m not wearing no monkey suit. If you want to go to Vegas and get married by Elvis, we can do that, or we can get married at the clubhouse. No matter to me where we get married, babe.”

Rory throws her arms around my waist and tucks her face into my neck. I quickly put the box down and wrap my arms around her. Holding onto her tightly. I know this has something to do with Terrence and losing him, but she’s gotta move on from him and forward with me. I’ll not let a ghost stand in my way. Mentally, I reach out to Pyro and ask him to move Terrence along and light up his ass if he loiters.

When Rory has finished sniffling, she looks up at me and I can see the love shining in her eyes, although they are watery as shit. “So, are you gonna try your property patch on?” I state while doing my best to keep it light.

Taking it out of the box, Rory reads the back and frowns a little. “Property of?”

“Yeah, you are mine and now the world knows it. I’m damn proud to call you mine, Rory. The patch shows you are under the protection of the club because you are mine, and it tells every bitch on the planet that I am yours. We are not a club that commits to our woman and then fucks around. That is not who we are.”

Rory turns the patch around and frowns. “Why does it say Numbers?”

I explained how she got her name, and Pres was the one who gave it to her. Along with the fact that he gave Cilla her Seer name, it is becoming a tradition. She giggles at the fact that the president of a motorcycle club gives names to his brother’s women. I have to admit it is unusual, but then, who said or expected anything normal from Tracker!

I smile as I watch Rory parade around the kitchen as though she’s on a model’s runway. Twirling now and again. I wait for her to get close enough, and I grab her up, wrapping her tightly in my arms before kissing her thoroughly.

“I’m going to pick Grady up from Jill’s and take him to the clubhouse where he’ll help Jet do some chores on the compound fencing. Then I’m heading to the gas station. I’ll see you later, babe,” I say all that, then quickly get an extra kiss before I head out. Leaving Rory a little dazed makes me feel really proud of myself.

Walking into the clubhouse forty minutes later, after leaving Grady with Jet, I give Cap a nod as he passes me by. I look around for Cilla and find her sitting in the corner of the common room where Ayla is snoring in the crib, I quickly head her way.

“Morning, Cilla!” I give her a smile when she rolls her eyes after I said that.

“Of course, I’ll keep popping outside and checking he’s good. But Jet is great and he’ll make sure Grady is okay, so I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

“I know Jet will look after him. He is only eleven and I don’t want him saying he’s okay if he’s not. You’ll be able to check if he’s good, and if he isn’t, give me a call Cilla and I’ll come for him,” I mean every word. I will come for him if he’s worried or scared.

“Watch out!” Cilla snaps, and I turn in time to see a table shoot forward towards my legs. I grab it before it can hit me, and I turn, giving Cilla a questioning look.

“What’s goin’ on?” I snarl.

Cilla shakes her head and points at whoever the fuck is playing games this morning. “I told you to pack it in and move on. I’ll have one of my boys sort you out if you keep this up.”

Now, I can’t see who the fuck she’s talking to. Cap, who had reentered the common room is standing watching with a frown on his face. Tracker walks into the common room and takes in the atmosphere before walking toward Cilla and I.

“What’s going on, Cilla?” Tracker asks.

Cilla takes a deep breath as she turns her attention to Tracker. “This man has died, obviously, and it seems he is pissed that his wife found out he had a second family. He made sure the second family had lots of insurance coverage in case, you know, he died. But he left his legal wife with a ton of debt and no insurance...”

The table shoots forward toward Cilla, and Tracker grabs it. Picks it up and throws it across the room before quietly stating. “Fuck off, asshole. I’m going to get my brothers to sort you out if you try one more fuckin’ thing.”

A chair shoots toward Tracker, and I mean that thing is in the air. Cap shoots forward and grabs it before I or Tracker can. Cap whirls around and snarls. “Pyro, do your thing!”

Cilla jumps to her feet, holding her hands over her mouth, eyes as wide as dinner plates. Tracker, of course, has to say something. “Well, by the look on your face, Seer, I’d like to know what’s goin’ on. I wish I could see what you see, Cilla. It’s gotta be interesting.”

“Well, it seems the wife was so pissed that she had her husband cremated, and she threw his ashes into a cesspit that was in the process of being fitted on a new house build. She must have thought he deserved the same ton of shit he left her in.” Cilla sits back down after that small tirade of information. “Oh, Pyro and Tank have him, and he’s now got his ass on fire. They are going to make him move on, but I’m not sure we will see what they are capable of, as they are blocking me out now.”

“God, I love that,” Tracker says as he chuckles, “She has everyone shitting on him.” I watch as Tracker notices Ayla is awake, picks her up and walks away with her, murmuring to her about how great her godfather is, and how no boys had better get near her until she’s fifty.

Finger passes Tracker in the doorway and attempts to take Ayla, but I chuckle when Tracker snarls and snaps his teeth at Finger, which has Ayla giving that sweet gurgling type of laugh she does. It’s the one that turns into a belly laugh, and I admit it has everyone around her laughing along with her.

An hour later, I am sitting in the gas station office while Rum teaches me how to work the billboard advertising. It’s interesting, but not really my thing. If Rum retires, I reckon I’ll have to get someone else to do this because I’m not ever going to be an advertising mogul.

“We have six businesses from town now advertising on the billboard. It’s bringing in a good bit of cake,” Rum says.

I look at him shocked, but smirk as I repeat, “Cake!”

Rum laughs, “Yeah, that’s what Dice calls it.”