?Chapter Thirteen
Cherry
Cherry smirked and winked at Denis before stepping forwards as Busk closed in, the VP’s boots kicking up dust. The big man squinted, then grinned. Cherry gripped Busk’s arm in a warrior’s clasp, their heads knocking together, Busk’s fist pounding Cherry’s back like he was hammering steel.
“Well, shit, brother. It’s about time you brought around someone worth a damn. You fucking asshole motherfucker. Ruger’s gonna fuckin’ love this.” Busk’s fist pounded Cherry’s back again, harder. “We thought you’d been disappeared by the po-lice. Nobody could find you in the jail, and nobody had a lead on where you might be. Fuck, brother.” Another pounding against his back. “Fuck, man.”
Cherry’s laugh was muffled against Busk’s shoulder. “Can’t say I’m sorry, brother. Night of my life.”
The gate clattered open and a man appeared, rolling Cherry’s motorcycle over the gravel. “I need to pay the impound.” He pulled back.
Busk shook his head. “Man told me there wasn’t a fee. Your guy worked some magic and the goddammed bogus charges were dropped, too. Better news, that rookie is gonna get a good old talking to. That fuckin’ cop was so green he needed a keeper.”
***
Denis
Denis hung back, watching Cherry greet the members, then begin what looked like a complex greeting ritual with the bike, going over nearly every inch with soft hands.
Busk was on him in a moment, a freight train in leather, pulling Denis into his own one-armed hug that damn near cracked his spine. “Cherry’s Guy,” Busk rumbled, stepping back to size him up. “Good to meet’cha. My boy did alright for himself. I’m Busk, VP of the Baton Rouge chapter of the motherfuckin’ IMC. We’ve got a big meeting tomorrow with all the chapter heads, as well as all the crew from Mother. That shit’s club only, so you’ll have to give him up for a while. There’s room for family on day two, we’ll do a big cookout for everyone. Expect to see you there, hear me?” All Denis could do was nod. “Good talk.” Busk turned on his heel, striding back to where Cherry stood next to his bike. “Say your goodbyes to your guy, brother. We’re rolling. Places to be.”
Cherry’s grin hit Denis in the center of his chest, wide and bright. Cherry fired up the bike, the growl vibrating through Denis, then swaggered over, grabbing Denis’ hand. “My Guy,” he said, voice low, tugging him close. “Kinda like the sound of that.”
“Me too,” Denis murmured, brushing a kiss across Cherry’s lips, heat flaring at the contact. “So that’s Busk, huh? Text me later. We’ll sort that next date.”
Cherry grinned, stole another quick kiss, then swung onto his bike. The IMC roared out in a double line, Cherry beside Busk, and Denis watched them into the distance, the impound gate clanging shut behind him.
?Chapter Fourteen
Cherry
