Page 50 of Nuts

I pulled off my helmet, hung it over the handlebars, and reached for my smokes. “That’s what you said the last time.”

“Well, this is the last time.”

“Until next time.”

“I mean it.”

“I’ll slow that fucker down when I’m too old to control it.”

He crossed his arms. “What the fuck brings you in here this time of day?”

“Ever heard of the Selected Sinners MC?”

“Yep.”

“What do you know about ‘em?”

“Decent bunch of fellas, I think. Midwest presence. Kansas, Texas, and maybe Oklahoma. Up and coming club, for sure. President’s name is Bishop. Axton Bishop. Why?”

I lit my smoke, took a long drag, and nodded. I was damned impressed with his knowledge, but I wasn’t about to let him know.

“Girl who lived next door is the cousin of this Bishop fella. She just found out. Didn’t know she had any relatives. Long story, but I might be makin’ a run out that way to see him.”

“Smidge?”

“Smudge.”

He shrugged. “I was close.”

“I’ll start calling you Crop instead of Crip. Suppose that’s close enough.”

He let out an audible sigh. “Need some club presence on that run to see him?”

I took a long pull off my cigarette and then blew the smoke in his direction. “Nope.”

He waved his hands through the plume of smoke, as if coming in contact with it would kill him.

He shot me a glare. “1,500-mile run is a long one. Going without a chase vehicle or a few of the fellas isn’t a good idea.”

“1,364, to be exact. And, I ain’t lookin’ to have any of the fellas tag along, thank you very fucking much.”

“Remind me why you’re in this club.”

“I love large groups of sweaty men.”

“I’m being serious. You’re one hell of a rider, I’ll give you that. And you never miss a meeting, a ride, or a run. When it comes time to take care of business, you’re right there, every time. You’re devoted, that’s for damned sure. But you want nothing to do with anyone in this club unless it’s on your terms.”

I took another drag off my cigarette and considered what he’d said.

I locked eyes with him. “I’d take a bullet for anyone in this club, you included. Two things in my life are important to me, family, and this club. But, I’m no different than anyone else in this MC. I don’t swap spit with every swinging dick who wears a patch. Don’t know ‘em that well, and don’t care to.”

“You run with Smokey, Pee Bee, and Cholo. That’s it. Club’s a damned sight bigger than that, ‘Nut.”

I spit out a laugh. “The patch earns my respect, but friendship comes hard, Prez.”

“Just saying, you ought to try running with a few of the other fellas. Get to know them.”

I thought of the prospect that ended up being an ATF agent. Smokey, despite my warning, had befriended him. In the end, he was a cop who was posing as a biker.