Page 13 of Fox (Road Rebels MC 4)
“Two weeks,” Mac said. “However you choose to do it, that’s what you’ve got.”
“Fine. I hear you,” I said.
“Anything else?” Snake asked. “Because Laiken’s body’s mighty warm and I’m feeling a chill come over my body.”
“You be careful with that shit. If someone started to tail her, she’s going down in a bad way,” Hawk said.
“I’ve got it,” Snake said. “I protect my own.”
“We got the plan, we got the timeframe, now let’s get some rest,” Mac said.
Church was dismissed, and everyone headed back to the lodge. Everyone except for me, of course. I went and leaned against my bike, making it look like I was contacting Harlow or some shit.
But I was really answering a text message from Calais.
He had messaged me as I was on my way back to the lodge, and Calais was someone I didn’t want to keep waiting. He was asking for an update on my supplier issue, and I had to tell him I hadn’t come up with one yet. I told him I was at Chester’s scouting out potential people to hook up with, but I knew if we could take out The Devil’s Saints, my issues with them would be fixed. If the Saints were taken down for good, their drug suppliers would scurry underground to take the heat off them. They would be looking for any way to unload the drugs they had off them, which meant I could swoop in and get good shit for a bottom-bargain price.
I could re-cut the stuff, repackage it, and re-negotiate a short-term contract with the KG9’s on the assumption that I would use them and continue paying ‘rent’ if and when I found more shit to sell. I would make good on my word, I’d give them plenty of shit to sell, and I could drop off the planet if I had to roll with the club for a while to keep the heat off my back.
It would all work out if we could take out the Saints.
But if the situation with the Saints didn’t get fixed, then things would go to shit. If I still had to run this side-business with the club breathing down my neck and Mac instating all these bullshit rules, then shit would blow up in my face. That was not what I needed, and that was not what the club needed. What I did during my personal time was my business. It wasn’t like others didn’t have side-businesses going.
What they did was they made sure it didn’t backlash on the club. And in return, Mac turned a blind eye to that shit.
Why wouldn’t he give me the same courtesy?
Calais wasn’t happy, but he was off my back for now. It bought me a few more days to figure this shit out while we were still peddling the drugs we had to offload our own backs. I still had two more paydays as well as ‘rent payments’ coming my way, which meant my dad was good where he was for the next eight weeks.
After that, though, I’d have to get creative.
I knew I could get close to Harlow. That wasn’t the issue. The issue was keeping these three juggling balls into the air without them dropping or colliding. My club couldn’t know about the KG9’s, and the KG9’s couldn’t know about Harlow or my club. Harlow couldn’t know about either the club or the KG9, and to top that plate off she also couldn’t know about why I wanted to get close to her.
Fuck. When did my life become so damn complicated?
Chapter 12
Harlow
“Mr. and Mrs. Clyde, I’m so glad you guys could come in today. I know I’m not your regular therapist, but I’ve been reading over your file and I have to say, I’m very impressed.”
“Thank you,” Mrs. Clyde said. “That means a lot.”
“Mr. Clyde-”
“Please, call me Dave.”
“Dave,” I said. “How is your recuperation coming along. Doctor Fasano has in her notes that you had a doctor’s appointment yesterday. How did that go?”
“It went well. Cancer’s still in remission, thank the Lord. But I’m still weak. Struggling in… some areas.”
“Dave, here you can be very open with me,” I said.
“He’s still struggling sexually,” Mrs. Clyde said.
“What is it you’re struggling with?” I asked.
“He’s having problems-”
“Mrs. Clyde-”
“Karen, please,” she said.
“Karen, it’s very important that Dave be able to acknowledge some of these things on his own. Let me do a bit of one-on-one with him to see if I can get him talking. Okay?” I asked.
“Oh, oh yeah. Sure. I’m sorry. Go ahead,” Karen said.
“Dave, what is it you feel you’re struggling with?” I asked.
“My stamina. My… libido is kicking back in, finally. After months. But I’m having problems keeping up with my wife’s…”
“It’s okay. You can describe it however you want,” I said.
“Fetishes. And attitudes. And paces,” Dave said.
I grinned as Karen blushed furiously on the couch.
“Well, biologically your wife is at a stage where her sex drive is going to peak again. She’ll go through two more of them before menopause,” I said.
“Oh fuck,” Dave said.
“I didn’t think I’d ever hear a man complain about something like that,” Karen said.
“I’m not complaining. I just… don’t know what I can do to make this… better for her,” Dave said.
“Your cancer has only been in remission for seven months, Dave. And this is your second time battling it. The chemo is going to make you weak for a while. It chiseled away at your strength, and it’s gonna take time to get that back. Have you ever thought about getting more creative in bed?”
“What do you mean?” Dave asked.
“Do you mind if I talk with your wife for a second?” I asked.
“Sure, sure. Go ahead.”
“Karen,” I said as I sat back and crossed my legs. “What do you enjoy in bed?”
“Lots of things,” she said.
“What do you enjoy specifically? That your husband isn’t fulfilling for you?” I asked.
“I don’t want to make him feel bad,” she said.
“I can’t help you unless you explain to me what’s going on,” I said.
Every once in a while, in my line of work, I had to delve into stuff like this. It was why sex didn’t make me squeamish. If my father ever knew I talked like this with some of my clients, he would have a fit. He would want me to quit or open my own practice. Hell, he’d probably build me my own practice with a sign that said ‘no sex talk allowed’ on the front door.
It was refreshing to find people willing to be open and honest about all facets of their marriage. Most people I counseled were angry with one another and unwilling to open up without a fight. Being in front of two people really willing to work on things was a great break during my day.
“He just can’t stay on top for very long. So that means no doggie style or anything against the wall,” Karen said.
“Have you ever thought about getting on top?” I asked.
“Oh, I’m a pretty big woman…”
“I’d be willing to try it,” Dave said.
“See? A willing participant,” I said with a grin.
“I don’t think I’d lo
ok very good from that angle,” Karen said. “And plus, Dave puts in a lot of work… you know… orally, too. I wouldn’t want to hurt him after something like that.”
“Well, if you hurt him, then find a position with you on top that suits you both. You could turn around and face the opposite direction. Or you could straddle him in a chair. There are plenty of positions that give you control and take the brunt of the activity off your husband,” I said.
I watched Karen blush bright red as her husband looked over at her and smiled. They were so cute. Embarrassed when it came to talking about sex. And I couldn’t blame them. Talking about it on a personal level was just as embarrassing for me. Here, it was professional. It was about someone else, and it was purely logical. There was a problem to be fixed, and I had a way to fix it.
But when someone was questioning me on my own sexual preferences, I clammed up like Karen was now.
“What else do you enjoy?” I asked.
“Me… or my wife?” Dave asked.
“Either one of you. As long as we’re on this train, we can solve as many issues as you want,” I said.
The three of us talked the entire hour about ways to make their sex life work for Mr. Clyde. This was a common thing in men who had just gone through chemotherapy. It affected their sex life for months on end. Women were ready to celebrate remission with their husbands, but they couldn’t keep up with the demand for the celebration. Some couldn’t keep it up and others, like Dave, didn’t have the stamina to keep going.
There were always things they could do to work around it if they could cast aside their embarrassment for a little while.
I finished up my session with them, and they both gave me a hug. I jotted down a few things for Charlene to see when she got back into her office and slid the file underneath her door. I went back to my office and pulled out my lunch, ready to sit back and scroll through my phone for a bit.
But I noticed I had a missed call and a voice message from a number I didn’t recognize.
