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Bull walks into the office and gives Winger the go-ahead to leave. He looks well ready to get out of here and back to the clubhouse to have some serious shuteye. Winger wasn’t in church last evening, but he was on the feed that Keys sets up for anyone who has to work when emergency church is called. That way everyone is up to date on what is happening.
“I stopped by Toby’s place this morning.” Bull surprises me by saying, and I turn my head to look at him. “I told him if he doesn’t take the excellent offer the club has placed, then that’s okay, but we won’t be using his lot again. I even said the cops would pull out their impounding and use behind the gas station instead.”
“Did you now?” I am surprised because Bull, I’m sure, was not ordered to do that, but he’s not one for sitting on things. He likes things to be done and then moves on to the next thing.
“He can’t manage the place, and I fuckin’ told him that. That bungalow is a mess and will need to be fumigated before anyone else gets to live in it. I can’t imagine Malik or Darius wanting to lay their heads down in that shithole.”
“I agree with that, Bull. It needs an overhaul for sure.” The last time I was dropping off a vehicle at the lot I remember thinking that the place looked like it needed more than a cleaner going in. It needed someone with a shovel to clear everything that was thrown on the floor and left to rot. “What was his reply?” I ask.
Bull chuckles. “He said he was thinking about it. I told him to think faster because we were not messing around any longer. I added that he had forty-eight hours before I pulled all the vehicles out of the lot.”
“What if we pull out a few vehicles later today? That would put the wind up his ass,” I suggest with amusement in my voice.
“That could work. I’ll send Malik and Darius. That way they can look at the place sneaky-like,” Bull laughs.
Keys walks into the office and quickly sits at one of the stations. “I’m going to check out all the cameras, how they are situated here and in the vehicles. I am going to check if all the trackers are working and if there is any need to replace them. I’ll make sure it gets done.”
Bull nods. “Okay, if you need anything let me know.”
A call comes through and using my headset I quickly get to work. I ignore all that Keys and Bull are doing. I even ignore Malik and Darius when they step into the office. I have one call after another, and I’m thinking it’s time I was put back on driving a recovery vehicle because I’m sick of sitting here and listening to this shit all day long.
I eat the BLT that Bull drops in front of me at lunchtime but continue taking calls. It is a hell of a busy day and seems everybody and their uncle are breaking down.
By the time Tread walks into the office to take over the next shift, I’m well and truly ready to get out of here. I love the open road, and even though it involves recovering vehicles, it is not sitting behind a desk or monitor.
Arriving at the clubhouse, I hurry to my room, wash up, and get ready for the evening meal. I’m going to grab a beer while I wait and maybe have a few minutes with one of the club women!
Passing the club women’s rooms, I stop when Daisy opens the door of her room. “Hi, Joker.”
Now, she says it in such a way that she is doing her best to sound provocative. Why the club women do that I don’t know but fuck it. I’ve got half an hour so I can spare ten minutes to scratch the itch. I grab her hand and pull her back into her room. With nobody else inside, I quickly get to it and hold my hand over her mouth when she starts with the wailing noise she makes. Never heard the like and don’t want to hear it again!
Zipping my jeans probably eight minutes later, I slap Daisy’s bare ass, thank her, and walk out. I'd best wash up again before I eat because if whoever is cooking smells sex, they’ll not feed me, and I know that from experience.
While I’m eating, Phoenix takes a seat next to mine. “Are you okay, Joker?”
“Yeah. You?” I respond while taking a bite of the chicken pot pie from my plate.
“Good. We have been prepping the dumpster yard in case the MC arrives here. We have three dumpsters placed strategically and have taped weapons inside. Let the fuckers shoot at us in a dumpster, the bullets will ping off and hopefully they’ll shoot themselves with the ricochet.”
We both laugh at the image that gives us. “I’d pay to see that. It’d be like one of those comedy sketches in the movies.”
Cilla, along with Finger who is carrying Ayla, passes by the table, and I quickly grab Cilla’s attention. “Hey, Cilla!”
Stopping, Cilla turns and gives me a bright smile. “Hi Joker. What’s up?”
“Darius, who is working at the garage, asked me if you could speak to his Uncle Silas. Apparently, he was an abusive asshole, and Darius pissed on his grave for six months after he died. He wants to tell him what he thought of him, I reckon!”
Cilla closes her eyes, and I’m sure she’s doing that hocus-pocus shit she does to speak to Bono. I continue eating while I wait, and notice Finger is sitting with Ayla now, who is in her highchair making a fucking mess with whatever they are feeding her.
“Hm, tell Darius his uncle has gone over. Bono doesn’t see him, and he doesn’t want to see him because he’s gone somewhere none of us would want to follow,” Cilla says this with a grim expression. Me! I don’t think I want to know what the fuck she’s talking about, so I nod, thank her, and carry on eating.
Phoenix snorts with disgust. “If Cilla is talking about where I think she’s talking about the fucker had to be the scum of the earth.”
“Yeah, those were my thoughts too, Phoenix. I’m thinking about what we had to do in the military, and the number of women we’ve saved over the years from boyfriends and husbands has to have earned us a few gold stars.”
We say no more on the subject, but I’m sure we will think about it again when it is quiet and our minds are unsettled.
The door opens, and Tracker walks into the room followed by Aspen, who is talking a mile a minute. Tracker is nodding and muttering something to her every now and again, and it looks like a heavy conversation.
