Page 126 of Property of Rattler

Leaning back, Saint folds his arms and fixes his eyes on the man sitting opposite. “Forgot you weren’t there last time we had a meet. You were out with the shits, or something, weren’t you, Temp?”

Tempest shrugs. “Ate something that didn’t agree with me is all.”

Prez drums his fingers on the table. “Can we move on from the state of the sergeant-at-arms’ bowels? Rattler, when were you thinking of heading to Vegas?”

“Er, next week?”

“You asking or telling?” Winchester barks a laugh.

Freak raises his hand. “You’ll have to count me, Trix, and Ace out. Ace has got some fuckin’ science fair and he wants us there. That trip to Comic Con got him inspired, and he wants to show his new project off.

“Ah yes, that was the show yout scrounged the tickets for off Big Daddy, wasn’t it?” My mouth twitches as I ask, referring to our national prez, who also heads up the California chapter.

“Didn’t scrounge fuck. Got them as a wedding present.”

I roll my eyes. “Some fuckin’ honeymoon with your teenage son in tow? Thought you’d have wanted to get yourself some action.” I make a circle with my thumb and forefinger on one hand, and move a finger on my other hand up and down inside it.

Freak tenses, but it’s Paint who barks out, “And, Rattler’s back.”

Giving them my best scowl, I realise they’re fucking up the plans Jayne and I had come up with. “Appreciate the offer of an escort, Brothers, but Jayne and I kind of agreed we’d just like to head out on our own. A road trip combining the sights of Vegas with getting hitched.”

Woody slaps his hand down hard on my back, making me lurch forward. “World’s dangerous, Bro. Kids like you shouldn’t ride alone.”

“The road captain’s right.” Tempest furiously nods his head. “There’s safety in numbers on the road.”

“Hey, I’ve no skin in this game,” Freak speaks up, “but seems sensible for a few brothers who are willing to tag along. You can still do the ceremony shit by yourselves, while the rest are out painting the town red.”

I’m busy trying to think of excuses. “And what’s going to happen to the strip club if Freak, Paint, Stalker and me are all out of town at the same time?”

“We go mid-week,” Saint pronounces. “There’ll be enough security to handle whatever comes up, as long as we’re back by Friday.”

Piston picks up his pen and starts writing. “Okay, I’ve pencilled in us leaving next Monday. Hey, Woody, what you think? It’s maybe a ten-hour ride counting for breaks?” When the road captain nods his head, he continues, “Rat and Jayne can handle their shit on the Tuesday, we light up Vegas that night, recover Wednesday, then head back on Thursday.”

My mouth drops open. But they carry on talking around me.

“The prospects staying or going?” Tempest asks.

“Staying,” Bullseye decides. “Rat can’t ride, so he can bring the crash truck.” My face reddens at the reminder, but I knew I’d be going in a cage anyway.

Saint raises his hand. “Pippa and I will sit this one out.” He pauses then shrugs. “Jade.”

“Fuckin’ kid ruins everything for you,” I observe. Then wince at the VP’s glare. But surprisingly it quickly transforms into a smile. “Wouldn’t have it any other way, brother.”

Lancelot shakes his head, whispering, “Pussy whipped.”

As all heads spin around to face him, I mimic giving him a high five while the rest of the table groans. ‘There’s fuckin’ two of them now,” Winchester moans.

“Short?” Bullseye asks.

“Bronwyn’s coming up to her finals. And I don’t feel easy leaving her alone with Trip,” he answers, his mouth twisting in a grimace. “And Vegas is the last place Trip can go.”

Yeah, I can understand that. The kid’s coming on in leaps and bounds, even talks full sentences now. But all those noises and flashing lights? Even I’m pleased to only be going for a couple of nights, fuck knows what it would do to an autistic child. I smile to myself, hey, look at me, being all compassionate and shit.

“Okay, so the VP, Short, Dee and Dum are staying. Anyone else?”

“Wouldn’t miss this for the world.” Words grins.

“You just want to see how a proper wedding’s performed,” Paint taunts him.