Page 29 of Property of Doc

SIXTEEN

Doc

We’re all sitting around the common room, drinking beer and waiting for dinner to be served when the door to the clubhouse opens and Mongrel walks in, saying, “Big Daddy and a bunch of his brothers are here, pres.”

Rio, Abyss, and BamBam stand like a well-oiled machine and head to the doors, with the rest of us filtering in behind them. Riptide, Indiana, and Icer are close to the front as well. I’ve never met Big Daddy, but with him being the national president, his reputation precedes him.

“Big Daddy,” Rio says, his hand already up. Instead, he’s pulled into a hug, his back pounded so hard I think he might need a chiropractor, before he steps back.

“Sorry to hear about Pokey,” Big Daddy says. “He came out to the rally for quite a few years, back when Paps was alive. A good, solid brother. Just gonna say this much and leave it be, but cancer fucking sucks.”

“You got that right, brother,” Rio replies. He then tugs Issy forward, her hand firmly in his and says, “This is my ol’ lady, Isla, although she won’t answer to it so just call her Issy.”

Big Daddy chuckles as he reaches behind him and out pops his ol’ lady. “This is my Gwynee.”

“Anything you need to make your stay more comfortable, please let me know,” Issy says to Gwynee.

“I will, thank you.”

“Now that the women have been introduced, here’s my VP, Hero, my chaplain, Soulless, and my road captain, Wicked. Oh, and his daughter, Sissy, who we prefer not to leave to her own devices,” Big Daddy states, giving Rio a look.

Rio must understand what he was saying because he nods. “Issy, if you’ll show Gwynee where they’re staying, I’m sure the brothers would like to wash the taste of the road outta their mouths. I know you brought a cage, but if y’all have your bikes, we can take a ride later.”

“Would like that,” Big Daddy replies, walking to the bar. He turns to Sissy and says, “Behave.”

She rolls her eyes at him and flounces off behind Issy and Gwynee. I see the other ol’ ladies are surrounding them now and know that by the time we sit down for a meal, all of them will be cackling like they’ve known each other for years. It takes a special woman to live with men like us, and when they come into the fold, they tend to keep to themselves unless there are other ol’ ladies around.

Sure enough, as Mongrel and Mutt work to pass out drinks, I can hear laughter and giggles coming from the tables that havebeen pushed together so the women can talk. I notice that little Gage is actually with his mother, then I bite my grin back when I notice that Icer is standing behind her, glaring at anyone who gets too close to him or Elodie, who is enthralled with all the attention she’s currently getting.

“How was the ride?” I ask Wicked. Since he’s their road captain, I figure he’s the one who mapped out their route.

“I swear to Christ that every fucking state has some kind of massive construction project going,” he grumbles as he tosses back a shot. “It wouldn’t be so bad, but the bikes don’t do as well since they’re not built to idle. So, I was constantly checking to see if we could lane split, because the last thing I wanted was for any one of us to get pulled over, y’know?”

I nod, then say, “And then you got to Texas, and found that not only the major interstates were jacked up, but so were the service roads.”

“I think all the detours and shit added about three hours to our trip. Plus, when Gwynee found out we could go to Buc-ee’s, we had a stop there that lasted another hour. At least we got some pulled pork sandwiches while we waited. I think she’d still be there if Big Daddy hadn’t put his foot down,” Wicked adds.

“We’re stopping for the rest of the shit she wanted on the way back,” Big Daddy interjects, grumbling, causing us to laugh. He shrugs then states, “We’ve got room in the cage, so why not? It’ll keep Sissy entertained at least.”

Constance and Maria go all out for our guests, putting on a Tex-Mex spread that I would put up against the most well-known restaurant that serves the same food on their menu. Homemade guacamole, burritos, enchiladas, soft- and hard-shell tacos, queso with and without spicy meat, three different salsas with their own heat factors, and to top it all off, cheesecake stuffed sopapillas.

“I’ve died and gone to heaven,” Soulless groans as he wipes his mouth. “I wonder if I can talk either one of them into coming back to California with us.”

“They both come with husbands who’ve worked this ranch for so long, I wouldn’t mess with them,” BamBam replies. “And yes, their food is divine. We’re used to it and when you see what the women have planned after the funeral, you’re gonna go back to Cali about ten pounds heavier.”

“Good thing my bike’s rated for my weight plus about another two hundred pounds if memory serves,” Soulless retorts. “Because I’m going to enjoy whatever they make.”

“Have you tried the sopapillas yet?” Gretchen asks. When he shakes his head, she hands him one from her plate. “Go ahead but be prepared, you’ll be going to fill up a plate for yourself.”

He immediately bites into it and makes a sound I’ve never heard outside of a bedroom. When Wicked cuffs him, he glares at him and yells, “What? This thing is fucking orgasmic!”

“Sissy’s here,” Wicked hisses.

“And? She lives around bikers, she’s not stupid or blind, regardless of what you guys may think,” Soulless jeers. Looking around, he spots Sissy, who doesn’t even have the faintest blushon her face at his antics. He points at her and adds, “See what I mean? She’s unfazed.”

Wicked shakes his head and grumbles, “I’m going to get something else to drink. I think I need it to deal with your nonsense.”

When he walks away, Soulless grins at me. “That shit makes my day,” he admits. “The fucker’s too serious most of the time, so any time I can, I pull his chain.”