"I already talked with them and we're all ready to go," Diablo said.
After another half hour of club business discussions, the gavel signaled church was over. Goldie tucked his phone in his pocket, deciding to take another look at Hailey's bra-teasing photos when he was in his room and could relieve the ache they gave him.
"You going over to Cuervos?" Brutus asked.
"We got a group going?" Goldie said.
"Yeah. You in?"
Goldie nodded. It was just what he needed for a Saturday night. If he stayed in, he'd probably imagine all kinds of shit about Hailey in the club. It wasn't that he didn't trust her; he didn't trust other men.
When Brutus, Skull, and Goldie arrived at Cuervos, Steel, Muerto, Army, Diablo, and Eagle were already there, drinking beer and wolfing down baskets of spicy wings. Jorge ran over and pushed another table together, and they sat down.
Eagle laughed and elbowed Goldie. "Is Vampirella stalking you?"
Goldie looked behind him and saw her staring, the Jagged Ace from Rear End next to her giving him a hard glare.
"Fuckin' pathetic," Goldie said as he picked up his beer.
"What?" Diablo asked.
"The Jagged Aces need to clean up their club. They got some real pussies in it." Goldie put four wings on his plate.
"And they need to screen the bitches who hang with them," Eagle added.
"You talking 'bout Dog? He's cool," Diablo said as he craned his neck.
"No. Talking about that fucker at the bar with the queen of the undead," Goldie replied. Several members sniggered and looked toward the bar.
"I don't know him," Diablo said, turning back to his food.
"That's Rusty. He and a few of the other members have become a real pain in the ass in the club. Dog's thinking of throwing their asses out." Steel motioned for the waitress.
"The sooner the better. That asshole doesn't deserve any patch. If he keeps up with the looks, I'm gonna have to beat his ass." Goldie rose from his chair.
"More wings?" Jill asked as she came over to the table.
Steel nodded. "Yeah, and bring four macho nachos. What's the chick's name with Rusty?"
"I can't fuckin' remember," Goldie answered.
"And you didn't have nightmares?" Muerto joked.
"When I hooked up with her, she looked alive. I'm gonna straighten out that sonofabitch she's with." As he made his way through the crowd, he saw Rusty grab Vampirella's hand and bolt out the door. "Fuckin' pansy-ass," Goldie muttered. Returning to the table with a beer in each hand, he sank into the chair.
"Did you beat his ass already?" Diablo asked between chews.
"The pussy took off. Good thing too." Goldie scooped up a bunch of chips. As he munched on his food, he watched various men trying to pick up different women, and his mind went to Hailey. He took out his phone.
Goldie: U better not be having 2 much fun.
Immediately his phone pinged.
Hailey: How can I be when ur not here?
Goldie: I miss u.
Hailey: Me 2. What r u doing?
Goldie: Hanging with my brothers @ Cuervos.
Hailey: U being good?
Goldie: Ya. U?
Hailey: Yes. Always good 4 u. ;)
Goldie: I can't stop looking @ the bra pics u sent me. Want to suck ur tits real bad.
Hailey: U know I'm still sore from a few nights ago. Deliciously sore.
Shaking his head, he laughed out loud. She's turning me on, just like that. Damn. She gets to me real good.
Goldie: Fuck, I wish u were here. I got a real itch for u.
Hailey: When I get back, I'll make up for lost time.
Goldie: Damn straight.
Hailey: My friends r trying 2 take my phone away. Better go. ♥♥
He stared at the screen, wanting their conversation to go on until she came back. He missed falling asleep and waking up next to her. For someone who never spent the night with women, he didn't think he would miss her in his bed as much as he did.
Taking another gulp of beer, he focused his attention on the conversation at the table. He couldn't keep mooning over her. I'm acting like a damn pussy.
"I heard Easyriders contacted you to have your bike on the cover of their magazine," Army said.
"Yeah. I was blown away," Goldie said.
"Fuckin' awesome!" Muerto said.
"A rep from the magazine saw my bike at the rally in Laughlin. He was drooling over it. All the custom chrome and hand-painted zombie apocalypse stuff on the body gave him a hard-on. If it were a woman, he would've fucked her until the end of the rally."
The brothers guffawed, and the conversation settled on Harleys, Sturgis, and poker runs that netted the best money and women.
After a few hours of motorcycle talk, drinking, and playing pool, Goldie walked out with Army, Muerto, and Diablo. "What the fuck?" Goldie said as he scanned the lot. "Where the hell's my bike?"
"You lost your bike? I didn't think you were such a lightweight with booze," Army said.
"Maybe you parked it down the street," Muerto joked.
"I'm not that drunk. I know where the fuck I parked my bike."
Diablo dashed around the parking lot, alley, and the dirt lot down the block. "No sign of it," he said grimly.
"Someone with a death wish stole my bike."
"There's no way it was a citizen unless he was fucked in the head," Muerto said.
"I bet it's that Jagged Aces asshole. He's fuckin' dead!"
"Does he know your bike?" Army asked.
"Yeah. He was in front of Rear End when I left that night. That sonofabitch asshole!" Goldie kicked the metal trash can until it was full of dents. "Does anyone know where he hangs out? I'm pretty sure he didn't take my Harley to their clubhouse." He leaned against the concrete wall, breathing heavily.
The brothers shook their heads before Diablo offered, "I can find out from Dog. We're good with each other. We'll get your bike back."
The brothers stood on the pavement, fury etched in their faces, jaws clenched, and fists balled up, ready to smash their anger out of their systems. Stealing a Night Rebels' bike was the worst crime someone could commit. A Night Rebel protected his motorcycle as if it were part of his body. No one messed with his Harley.
Looking at Diablo, Goldie gritted, "Find out where that fucker hangs and let me know right away. I want my bike back, and I want the asshole to pay for what he did."
"I'll get the info. We're with you on this, bro," Diablo said as Muerto and Army nodded.
"Jump on back and I'll give you a ride," Army said.
The ride back to the clubhouse fueled Goldie's fire even more, so by the time he arrived he was a seething ball of fury. He grabbed a bottle of Jack and rushed up to his room. As he stared out into the darkness, the whiskey scorching his throat, a fear like he'd never felt grabbed hold of him. What the hell? A sinking feeling invaded him as a chill shrouded his body. A foreboding darkness crept into his veins, twisting around his nerves, and he was seized with an overwhelming urge to go see his grandma. Not one to ignore his gut, he jumped up and dashed down the stairs.
"Chains, my truck's in the shop so I need to borrow your SUV," he said while extending his hand. Without questioning him, Chains placed the keys into his opened palm. Goldie ran out of the club, headed to Cherry Vale.
When he arrived at the rehab center, it was quiet and all the lights in the rooms were off as it was nearly one thirty in the morning. Knowing the only way to come in through the front door after ten at night was to ring the bell, he went around back, not wanting to draw attention to himself. He tried a couple of doors but they were locked. Behind the kitchen, he spotted the glow of a joint and approached the smoker cautiously. Hendricks looked up.
"Hey, man. What're you doing here so late?" the CNA asked.
"I was in the neighborhood and thought I'd check up on my grandma. How's she been?"
"Good, I guess. I'm upstairs tonight." He pulled out a joint from his pocket. "Want one?"
Goldie shook his head. "I need for you to let me in. Something's wrong with the bell in front."
"Sure. Don't tell anyone you saw me smoking," Hendricks said as he pulled open the employees' entrance.
"No worries. Thanks, dude." Goldie went in, then quietly walked through the darkened kitchen and dining room. He cut through the lobby and looked down the hallways on either side. Nothing seemed amiss. Pressing his lips together, he went to his grandmother's room, stopping short in the doorway. Ice ran through his veins as the dark outline of a person looming over his grandmother came into focus. Goldie switched on the light and white brightness momentarily blinded him as fluorescent lights flooded the room.
The person, dressed in scrubs, turned around quickly, shock covering his face. In his right hand, he had a syringe.
"What the fuck are you giving my grandma?" Goldie demanded.
"Something to help her sleep better. Dr. Rudman ordered it," Dan said.
"You fuckin' liar! You're trying to inject some shit in her. You're fuckin' trying to kill her." Goldie rushed over to the nurse and slammed his fist into his stomach. Dan groaned and bent over, the syringe falling from his gloved hand. Goldie brought his knee up and slammed it against Dan's face. The crunch of bone and ping of teeth falling on linoleum gave Goldie a surge of satisfaction as he crashed his steel-toed boot into the nurse's groin.