All the tension drains from my body. We’re okay. I didn’t screw up.
I shove the phone back onto the table. I can write Bailey back later.
“Do you promise to pound me so hard these nonexistent boobs actually bounce a little?”
He grabs them with both hands. “Challenge accepted.”
CHAPTER 38
MERRICK
Marietta and I finish out our week at the clubhouse. It’s a busy one. I take my turn on the patrols watching the private road, and others check to make sure Lucifer’s Kin have truly abandoned their club. Not that there’s much left to salvage.
But they’re gone. Some post bail and join the Kin in far north Florida, near Jacksonville. Others rot in cells, awaiting trials, most of them with priors.
At church on Sunday, Iron Jack announces that Marietta will no longer be a house mouse and that we would help move her to my place.
Chain slaps the table. “I figured he had it for that piece of spaghetti. Good luck keeping her top on in the bar.”
This makes everyone roar with laughter, but that’s all right. I’m on board with whatever exhibitionism Marietta wants to cook up.
Iron Jack waits for everyone to quiet down. “I know it’s tradition for a prospect to be with a club for closer to a year before we bring him to a vote, but Merrick has more than proved his loyalty to the Wild Hair in two raids. And he hasn’t thrown one of your sorry asses out of his bar, which might have been harder to pull off.”
Another roar.
I sit up at that. Iron Jack hadn’t mentioned they would move up my vote. I glance over at Adam in the opposite corner. He nods with the others.
“So, let’s hear it,” Iron Jack says. “All in favor of Prospect Merrick patching in as a full member, say, ‘Aye.’”
The chorus of “Aye” is so loud that it reverberates off the walls.
“All opposed, say ‘Nay.’”
Nobody opposes.
Iron Jack slams his fist on the table. “Then Merrick is an official member of the Wild Hair, Miami.” He bellows toward the door, “Bring the patch!”
The door opens, and Marietta arrives with the bit of red in her hand, pleased as punch to be the one to get to do it. She’s toned down in a bulky gray sweater and jeans, her dark hair a riot of curls on top of her head.
But she still gets a chorus of whistles and comments as she rounds the table. “Merrick,” she says, passing me the patch. “I will sew this on for you later.” She straddles me on the chair, draping her arms over my shoulders. “You gonna teach me how to ride?”
This gets the room going all over again.
“You bet I am.”
“Well, go on,” Iron Jack says. “Daylight’s wasting. Show your woman how to ride.”
I stand up with her wrapped around me, then slide her around to sit behind me, piggy-back style. She lets out a whoop, and I carry her out to more wolf-whistles.
We pass Betz in the hall, holding a tray of shots. Behind her, Christina and Jami both lug orange juice and fruit. Looks like they’ll be the new house mouse crew.
“You two are ridiculous,” Betz says. “Like little kids.”
“I’m gonna miss you,” Marietta says. “I’m glad you got more help, though.”
Betz rolls her eyes and moves on to the meeting room.
Christina grins at us. Jami balances the tray on one hand to smooth her hair, which is recolored to bright purple. She’s in full makeup already, which I’m guessing means she is hoping to catch Adam’s eye. I caught them talking in the kitchen last night.
