?Chapter Fifteen
Denis
The cookout attendees were sprawled across the clubhouse yard, a chaos of leather, kids, and chatter. There were half a dozen grills roaring, nearly a hundred bikes gleaming, and vests with IMC colors everywhere. Denis pulled up, nerves jangling, and quickly spotted Cherry by a picnic table, beer in hand, laughing with a woman who had Busk’s eyes. His sister, maybe? Cherry saw him and the change in expression was instant, a grin splitting his face wide as he waved Denis over.
“Denis,” Cherry said, tugging him close, arm sliding around his waist. “Meet the family.”
It was a whirlwind with Busk pounding his back again, Wildman nodding approval, an introduction to the man who was effectively Cherry’s boss, Baton Rouge’s president, Ruger. He’d been presented to a dozen patched brothers, them and their old ladies shaking his hand. Cherry stayed glued to his side, possessive and proud, and Denis felt it. That thing he’d hoped for in the warm, unreserved welcome, the sense of belonging, it distinctly felt like a puzzle piece clicking into place.
There was a tense interaction with a prospective member, who Denis now knew could be identified via their vest. The man had shoulder-checked Denis, rocking him back on his heels. Only Cherry’s arm around his shoulders kept him from taking a tumble.
“The fuck you think you’re doing?” Cherry’s clipped words struck the prospect like a lash. Before he’d finished talking, he’d moved and put Denis behind him, effectively protecting him against one of his own. Denis sucked in a harsh breath. This was not how his introduction to the club members who were Cherry’s family was supposed to go.Does it matter the standing in the club? Of course it matters. How can I best help Cherry. By staying silent, I think. Okay, be quiet. Hey Denis, all this is in your brain.He had to fight against laughter, the tension in the moment stripping away any sense of humor.
The prospect straightened his spine, chin in the air just asking for a punch to pound it down. “He’s a fuckin’ queer. And a lawyer? You should have your patches cut, my man.” The prospect’s words dropped into the space around them, silence rolling out from the center of the conflict.
“Cherry, it’s okay.” Denis had heard much worse through the years.Ah god. How can I help?This was rapidly turning into the worst possible outcome.
“The fuck it is.”
The muscles in Cherry’s shoulders flexed, hands swinging freely at his sides as he took the two swift strides putting him directly in the man’s face. The stress of the moment pushed at the bubble of happiness Denis had been walking through. He reached out and grabbed the waistband of Cherry’s jeans, needing that anchor to get him through the moment.It’s all going sideways.
“Prospect, you wanna repeat what you said?” Cherry was staring the man down. “I’d like to know I got it right.”
“No.” The word was a clipped bludgeon, falling from the prospect’s mouth. His face was turning a bright red, and he’d taken a couple of steps backwards and away from Cherry, that defiant chin falling to his chest. “I got it wrong, Enforcer.”
Cherry followed him, staying in the man’s face. Denis followed, his grip dragging him the small distance. “Yeah, you fucking did. You got it all shades of wrong. Busk, you hear that bullshit this prospect spewed?” Busk stepped up next to Cherry, both men essentially shielding Denis from the unhappy man.
“I did. Sounds like a fucktard to me. Our brother Rook sponsored him, what do you want done to make sure he understands the errors of his ways?”
“Bastard mentioned cutting my patches. I think losing his prospect patch should be good. Bust him back to hangaround status.”
“Makes sense to me,” Busk drawled. “Rook, come get your prospect, brother.”
Cherry turned around, gaze flicking across Denis’ face. “You good?” There was a scuffle with the prospect who was pleading his case to a circle of stone-faced men. Cherry ignored the activity at his back. “Denis.” Cherry reached out and put an arm around Denis’ shoulders. “Are you good?”
“Yeah. I’ve heard much worse. It just surprised me.”
