Otis (20 page)

“Thanks for your help,” Otis chuckled.

“Sorry about the threats. It just kind of added to the excitement,” Otis explained as he pulled his pants up.

I stood and took the few steps to my dress. After picking it up from the grass, I turned the inside of it outward and wiped the cum from my face. As Alan quietly walked away shaking his head, I got dressed and turned toward Otis.

“Enjoy yourself?” he asked, smiling from ear to ear.

“Best fucking date ever,” I grinned.

He nodded his head as he buckled his belt, “Feel the same way.”

And, as fucked up as most people would see it, and as few would believe it if ever told the story, the sexual adventures of our night were absolutely perfect.

And I couldn’t wait to see what Otis dreamed up for our next date.

OTIS

The exposure of Gunner as an ATF agent left me feeling as if the club needed to remain as it was from a membership standpoint, and never add anyone else. Knowing that was not only impossible, but certainly not in the club’s interest, I tried to wrap my mind around a better process of accepting prospects into the club.

Cash had prospected for a year, and although I vouched for him to be accepted as a prospect, adding him to the ranks of Sinners seemed risky and potentially threatening. For the last year, I had supported Cash, his foolish behavior, and his childish antics. His constant discussions with outsiders regarding club business - often bragging about what was done and who was involved - had caused several meetings to be held between Axton and me regarding a means of forcing him to adhere to the code of silence.

His patch in party was being held, and for lack of a better place to have a pig roast, the club voted to have the party at Cash’s home in the country and not at Tater’s farm as usual. The home Cash lived in had several acres of grass behind the home, and no farm animals. Tater’s home was an actual farm, and had livestock close to the home, making the smell of livestock – especially his pigs – a part of the party.

Mentally struggling with adding
anyone
to the club, I dismissed my thoughts as nervous inconsistencies based on Gunner’s not having refused to testify to the Federal Grand Jury yet. His lack of adhering to his end of the agreement had me on edge and worried about the potential incarceration of not only me, but of every member of the club. As I sat on my bike contemplating what to do regarding Gunner, Sam walked out of the house and onto the porch.

Dressed in jeans, Converse sneakers, and a short sleeved button down Harley-Davidson shirt, she looked adorable as she twisted her hair into a ponytail.

“Ready,” she hollered as she released her ponytail.

“Well get on,” I sighed sarcastically as I pressed the
start
button.

After she was secure on the back of the bike and had her glasses on, I sped out of the driveway and down the winding road that led from her neighborhood. The ride from Wichita to Winfield typically took forty minutes, and although I had no real recollection of the trip from her mother’s house to Cash’s, our arrival at 7:00 indicated I had made the trip in a little less than thirty minutes.

Bikes were parked in front of the garage, beside the driveway on both sides, and throughout the entire front yard. Counting them would have been impossible, but an educated guess would have been close to sixty motorcycles and several cages. As I slowly rolled into the driveway, cautious of the bikes parked on either side, I was a little embarrassed of my late arrival and the way I was feeling about adding Cash to the club.

“There’s a lot of people here. Wow,” Sam said as we came to a stop in the drive.

As I positioned the bike beside one I didn’t recognize, I began once again to feel uneasy about the event. Being nervous about
anything
wasn’t typical for me, and considering everything about the night was making me feel ill, my soul searching for what was in the club’s best interest simply made matters worse.

“Well, let’s go back there and mingle,” I said as I swung the kickstand into place.

“Are we late?” she asked as she stepped off the back of the bike.

“Kind of,” I sighed as I locked the ignition of the bike.

“Should have got here at 6:00 with everyone else, patch in’s at 7:00,” I said flatly.

“You didn’t get to my house until 6:30. That’s what time you said to be ready,” she shrugged.

“I know, Sam. I
know
. I’m not feeling this,” I sighed as we slowly walked up the drive.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

I glanced over my shoulder and studied her as we walked. I loved her dearly, and the thought of losing her again was incomprehensible. My position on life, the club, being in a relationship, and being in love had changed in the last month and I felt I needed to do whatever was within my power to preserve the things I loved and held sacred. Keeping the club from harm was my top priority, and doing so also kept Sam and me safe and in a solid relationship.

I shrugged my shoulders, “Nothing’s wrong. There’s going to be a hundred or so people back here. It might be a little overwhelming. I’ll apologize in advance, but I’m going to be tied up with the fellas until the patch in is over. Just mingle with Syd and Avery for a bit, okay?” I said.

She smiled and nodded her head, “Okay.”

As we came around the back side of the house, it was clear the party was well underway. The sheer size of the crowd was staggering. The music blaring the unmistakable beats of the
Black Keys
, kegs of beer in trash cans scattered about, several long tables surrounded by folding chairs - mostly occupied by Ol’ Ladies - and more cuts than I could count wandering about added to my level of frustration.

“God damn, the VP made it,” Axton hollered over his shoulder from the circle of men surrounding him.

Several of the Ol’ Ladies, including Sydney, Avery - and to my surprise - Biscuit’s newfound playmate Kat, were gathered at the corner of the garage.

“Sam!” Sydney shouted from behind us.

Sam glanced in my direction and held her gaze as she waited for my instructions on what she should do.

“Just go have fun. I’ll be a while with this deal. I’ll find you in a bit, okay?” I shrugged.

“Love you,” she said with a smile.

“Same, Sam. Love you too,” I said as I leaned over and kissed her lightly.

“Oh wow. I didn’t know we could kiss at these things,” she chuckled.

I rolled my eyes and tossed my head toward the girls, “Go.”

I turned around and walked toward Axton, who was surrounded by Biscuit, Toad, and a few other men who were wearing cuts that I didn’t immediately recognize. As I approached, Axton stepped back and opened his arms.

“Better late than not at all,” he said as he slapped his hand against my back.

“Knock you off a piece of ass in the produce aisle at the grocery store?” Biscuit chuckled as he wrapped his arms around me.

I slapped my hand against his back and shook my head, “No, just running late, brother.”

As I hugged Toad, he whispered into my ear, “Everything alright, brother?”

I broke the hug and nodded my head, “I’m good.”

But I wasn’t.

“Otis, need you to meet a few fellas from the
Fire and Iron MC
. Big fucker here’s Doc. Doc, this is our VP, Otis,” Axton said as he pointed to a man wearing a cut who stood beside him.

Barely an inch or so shorter than me, and covered in tattoos to one wrist and to his elbow on the other arm, the man had a certain presence to him that supported his
I don’t take shit from anyone
posture. As he stood stone-faced and shook my hand, I studied his cut.

President.

“He’s the president of the Wichita chapter of the MC we rode down to Texas about. And this fella here could give Biscuit a run for his money on telling stories. Teddy, this is Otis,” Axton said as he tilted his head toward a barrel-chested monster of a man with a full beard and black curly hair.

“Pleasure to meet ya,” Teddy said as he extended his hand.

His hand engulfed mine as he shook my hand in his. I glanced down, shocked at the size of his hands. As he released my grip, I made note of his sausage-sized fingers and huge hands. My guess, based on the condition of his knuckles, was that he was the club brawler.

“Likewise,” I grinned.

“We was just talkin’ about that fuckin’ A-Train getting’ your Sergeant-At-Arms shot. Gotta keep your eye on that God damned A-Train, he’s a hot-head,” Teddy chuckled.

“Seemed like a pretty solid fella,” I responded.

“Oh he’s solid as fourteen motherfuckers, but he’s a hot-head. We had to ship his ass down to Texas just to keep him from killin’ everybody that pissed him off. I’m just glad ol’ Toad here ain’t pushin’ up daisies,” he chuckled as he wrapped his arm around Toad’s shoulder.

“Toad’s a tough fucker, and a little of a hot-head himself,” I chuckled as I slapped Toad’s bicep with the back of my hand.

“Fuckin’ Marines,” Teddy sighed.

“So, are the fellas from Texas going to make it?” I asked.

Doc shook his head from side-to-side, “The entire state was flooded a week ago from all of the rain they got. Hell, Obama declared it a Federal emergency. Our Texas chapter assembled and is doing work for charity. The boxer’s donating a bunch of money and all of their time to help clean up the mess, so they won’t be here.”

I pressed my hands into my hips and sighed, remembering the news segment on the flooding, “Yeah, I heard about that. Fucking highways were under water.”

“Well, I hate to break up this little party, but we’ve got to get this kid patched in. It’ll just take fifteen minutes or so, then we’ll all get back together and solve the world’s problems. Sound good?” Axton asked.

“Nice seein’ ya again, Slice,” Teddy said.

“Slice,” Doc nodded.

Axton shook Doc’s hand and turned around to face me.

“You straight,” Axton asked.

I nodded my head, “Just worried about the club.”

He shrugged his shoulders, “Anything serious?”

I shook my head, “Nothing you aren’t aware of.”

I knew Axton had very little use for Cash. Although the bylaws required a vote by all members in the club to allow Cash to be patched in, I’d never seen anyone denied their patch after prospecting, and I didn’t suspect Cash would be any different in Axton’s eyes than any of the other half-assed members we’d allowed into the club in the past, Gunner included.

“Well, let me get this microphone and make an announcement,” Axton said.

I raised my hands to my temples and nodded my head as I began to rub my fingers against the sides of my head. Axton walked to where the speakers were positioned behind the house. Between the speakers, an amplifier, stereo equipment, and a microphone sat on top of a table. As I made eye contact with Sam, I tossed my head toward Axton and raised my right index finger to my lips.

She nodded her head in acknowledgement.

“Listen up!” Axton’s voice blared over the sound system.

“I need complete silence, people,” he said as he raised his free hand in the air.

After a half-minute wait, the sound from the large crowd was down to a dull roar.

“I appreciate everyone coming to celebrate a prospect being patched into our club,” Axton said into the microphone.

“Cash had been a hang around with the club for about six months before becoming a prospect, and although it’s been a rough twelve months for all of us, his year of prospecting is finally over…”

Miscellaneous whoops, shouts, and amen’s came from the crowd as Axton paused.

“So we’re here to witness this event, and watch him ride a moped around the fucking yard while he wears a shock collar around his skinny little neck,” Axton chuckled as he raised the remote control for the shock collar into the air.

Again, Axton paused, allowing several shouts from the crowd to be heard by everyone.

“So, without further ado, we’ll get back to it. Todd Parker, known by the club as Cash, has fulfilled his requirement of prospecting for twelve months. All patched in Selected Sinners in favor of his advancement into the club and acceptance as a fully patched member respond in the form of
aye
,” Axton said into the microphone.

The crowd erupted into a universal “Aye.”

Axton nodded his head.

“Requires a one hundred percent vote to be a Sinner, any opposed respond in the form of nay,” he shouted.

I glanced around the crowd.

Silence.

As Axton lifted the microphone to his mouth, I fixed my eyes on Sam, sighed, and raised my hand.

“Nay,” the word barely escaped my mouth.

“Well, it appears…” Axton began, clearly not having heard me.

“Nay!” I shouted.

Axton lowered the microphone and shifted his eyes to meet mine.

“Do I have one opposed?” Axton asked.

I nodded my head, “Yes you do. My vote is
nay
,” I said.

Cash, standing twenty or so feet from me with his arms folded in front of his chest, dropped his hands to his sides as his eyes widened.

“Is this a joke?” he hollered.

I shook my head.

“Are you fucking kidding?” he shouted.

I glanced at Sam, shifted my eyes toward Cash, and shook my head again.

As he walked my direction, he began to express his displeasure of my vote.

“I’ve been living in hell for twelve fucking months for this. I washed bikes. I got cigarettes. I cleaned the shop. I got in fucking fights with people I don’t even know for no reason other than a patch told me to. This is fucking bullshit, and I say your vote doesn’t count, Otis. I’ve…”