As I walk further into the club house, I see Brew and Killer sitting over by the bar. Brew has a woman between his legs, not giving a fuck that he’s getting sucked off while he’s chattin’ it up with his president; the same president who’s fingering a chick that’s sitting on top of the bar and moaning like a bitch in heat. I shake my head at their behavior. These old men are sick fuckers. At least in my club, the men don’t talk the shit with each other while fuckin’ with a whore.
I walk over to them, my men following close behind. I yank the hood of my sweatshirt down off my head. “Hey boys,” I say, sliding up to the bar and shouting for a whiskey. They don’t stop what they’re doing with the women as they turn their heads my way.
“Hey, my boy. How was the road?” Killer says, giving my shoulder a hard smack with his free hand.
Killer and my Pop are friends, have been for years. They started this club together. Along with Timber’s dad, who runs a charter down in California; the same charter this club has been fucking around. The three of them were in the same unit in Vietnam back in the day. My Pop says you don’t know what real friends are until it’s you and them against a sea of bullets.
“You know me. I love to ride. How’s the Old Lady?” I say, just to see if it’ll piss him off. Of course, it doesn’t. I’ll never understand how some men can fuck around after they choose to spend their life with one woman. Sure, I get that a man needs some relief when he’s away from home, but making use of road pussy is completely different than fingering a rabid bitch, especially when your wife’s just right down the road.
“Lanie’s good. She’s home with the kids. You’ll see her while you’re here. She says to let you know that she’ll be making some of her bacon wrapped meatloaf for you on Sunday,” he says then motions to the woman on the bar. “But this bitch here’s keeping my dick warm tonight. Ain’t ya, sweet cheeks?”
“Yeah, Killer baby. Lanie’s pussy ain’t good enough for you tonight,” she says, moaning out. Killer laughs, but it’s not a pleasant sound. He yanks his fingers outta her, then grabs her arm and jerks her down off the bar.
“Looks like this bitch needs to find out what her mouth is meant for, because it’s sure as hell not meant to be spewing out shit about my old lady. We’re gonna hit the sack. Feel free to enjoy whatever you want, Kidd,” he says, dragging the girl with him.
I hear Brew chuckle, “That bitch’ll be gone by sunrise. He’ll fuck her good, then she’ll be eighty sixed if she’s lucky, dead if she not. My guess is he’ll kill her after what she said about his old lady.”
I have no doubt Brew’s right. In fact, I’m surprised Killer didn’t punch the girl’s lights out as soon as the words left her mouth. I would have. Club girls don’t get much shit from the members. We treat them all pretty good, but they have to learn to follow rules if they don’t want to get hurt. One of the most important rules is that whores never talk shit about a member’s old lady.
I hear Brew find his release and can’t help but chuckle. The old fucker must give the girls here lock jaw, considering how long he’s been pumping into her.
“Ok, girl. Get goin’. Men are talking now,” he says, zipping his pants and slapping the girl on her ass.
I just shake my head at his shit, then tap the bar for another whiskey.
“Heard Chipper has himself a kid now?” He asks quietly, picking up his glass.
“Yeah, Jenna, sweet kid. Pretty fucked up though. If Rig wasn’t dead, I’d be shoving my gun down his throat about now,” I say with a nod.
“Yeah, he was a sick fuck. Is uh, is the girl doin’ good? Being treated right there?” he asks hesitantly.
“Yep, Chipper and Mindy have claimed her as their daughter. Mindy loves her to death, and so does Chipper, but she’s running his ass in circles. He’s just not sure how you’re supposed to treat a teenage daughter,” I say chuckling, and remembering the times that Chipper was pissed right the fuck off about some of the clothes Jenna would wear.
Brew puts his head down, looking almost sad and remorseful. “That’s good, that’s good. She needed someone to look after her.”
“Yeah, she did. Did you know her? How she came to the club and all?”
He shakes his head slowly. “Nah, man. I don’t know shit about her.”
“I heard her bastard of a father gave her to Rig. Can you imagine anyone being such a sorry son of a bitch?”