“Oh. Yeah.” Sam blushed and tucked his chin to his chest briefly. “Daddy wanted me to make sure you know you’re invited to our house for a barbecue tonight. Everyone’s going to be there.”
“I’m not sure—”
Sam cut off whatever lame excuse I was about to give. “Let me put it another way. We’re having a barbecue. If you don’t know how to get to the house, you can follow us. But youarecoming. This might be the last time we’ll be able to get together before things get nuts around here. You’re not going to say no to a little bit of downtime, are you?”
“No, I suppose I’m not,” I agreed, even though I couldn’t think of much I wanted to do less than hang out with a bunch of couples in ooey-gooey love. “Give me the address and I’ll be there.”
Once Sam texted me the address, I quickly made my excuses. If I was going to be surrounded by all of them for the evening, I needed a bit of time to myself. I also needed to head out to the farm and swap vehicles. The bike was exactly the stress reliever I needed this morning when I left home, but if I was going to hang out with the guys from work, I needed the car. Not only was it supposed to get too cold to ride later, but they were calling for rain. No matter how much of a die-hard I considered myself, cold and rain made for a miserable time.
I didn’t bother looking at the speedometer as I raced down the back country roads. The cops weren’t out this way often, and even when they were, they tended to turn the other way rather than pull us over. It was one of the benefits of having a few of the boys in blue in the club my brother ran.
My stomach flipped when I saw the gate open at the end of the gravel drive. I’d hoped it was still early enough no one would be at the old house we’d converted into a clubhouse. Luckily—or maybe not—there was only one bike parked in the grass. My big brother was already here, likely setting up for the night.
“Hey man,” I called out as I pushed open the door. Stephen was a twitchy fucker, and I didn’t want him pulling a gun when he heard someone wandering around when he thought he was alone.
“Upstairs,” he hollered back. I took the steps two at a time to see if he needed help. It was inconvenient as hell keeping all the booze up here, but it was well-known that you didn’t come up here unless you were one of a select few, so it was the safest place. “Hey. Thought you were working at that club all day today.”
“Change of plans,” I told him, ignoring the sneer as he mentioned the club. None of the guys were thrilled about my choice of workplace, but they didn’t say too much about it since the time I corrected a prospect who thought it made him seem big and bad to throw homophobic slurs around.
“That mean you’re working the door for me tonight?” He nodded to a stack of beer cases. I tucked one under my arm and grabbed two more before heading back down the flight of stairs with him behind me.
“You have prospects for that shit.” I wasn’t his little worker bee. It wasn’t the only reason, but not wanting to give him more reason to boss me around was part of why I’d forever be a hangaround and not a patched member.
“But if you’re going to be here anyway, it’d be cool if you could do it. We’re expecting company tonight.”
Oh hell no. They weren’t the type of club that got into trouble often, butcompanycombined with him wanting me here meant some of the rowdier clubs in the area were expected to show up. I didn’t have time for that shit, especially not in the mood I was in.
“As much fun as that sounds like, I have plans,” I informed him.
The fucker actually laughed at me, like head thrown back, clutching his gut laughter. “Yeah. Okay,” he scoffed. “If you don’t want to do it, fucking say so. Don’t bullshit me.”
I shrugged and rolled my eyes. “Think whatever you want, but it’s fact. The guys from work are having a cookout or some shit and they invited me.”
More like Sam wasn’t going to take no for an answer, but I wasn’t going to give Stephen that level of ammunition. I’d never hear the end of it if he knew ‘the weird little twink’, as he called him, had put me in my place.
“Seriously?”
“Yes, seriously,” I grumbled. While he loaded beer into the fridge, I grabbed a bottle of Jack off the counter and poured myself a double. It burned as I tossed it back, and I was tempted to do another shot. If I got drunk now, I’d have a reason to bail on everyone. I could stumble across the property to the trailer I’d bought and set up last fall. It wasn’t much, but it was mine, free and clear.
“I mean, you’re a big boy. I can’t stop you from doing your own thing.” I glanced his way and saw his clenched jaw.
“Just fucking say it, Stephen.” I wasn’t playing these passive-aggressive games with him today. Whatever he had to say, we were going to get that shit out in the open so we could move on.
Stephen popped the caps off two bottles of beer and handed one to me. Without a word, he walked to the corner table where he held court every night the clubhouse was open. I sat down across from him and held my breath as he lit a cigarette. Every time I was out here, I was grateful that public businesses didn’t allow smoking indoors. That stank was going to cling to my clothes. It was a damn good thing I needed to go home to shower before heading to Sam and Theron’s.
“Look, I’ve been trying to keep shit in line, but people are talking.” He took a draw off his beer. I focused on the cherry of his cigarette glowing bright as he took a drag, trying to remind myself he was only the messenger. I wasn’t going to knock his ass out.
But fuck these guys. I might not be a member, but Iwasfamily. I’d lay my shit bare for any single one of them, and they were talking shit behind my back?
Fuck that noise. I shoved back from the table hard enough Stephen had to make a quick grab for his bottle before it tipped.
“Calm your tits and sit your ass down,” he demanded. Even I couldn’t ignore the commanding tone in his voice, so I sat. “I’ve put a lid on it so far, but if you start socializing with that group, I’m not sure I can keep telling them you’re not like that.”
“Likewhat,exactly?” We both knew damned well what he was talking about, but I wanted him to say the fucking words. We hadn’t been raised to be homophobic fuckstains, and if he was turning out that way because of the club, he could fuck himself with a rusty railroad spike.
“Look, you know how it is in this life,” he said, his voice calmer now, like it was when he was trying to defuse arguments. “Some of the guys aren’t the most open-minded people in the world, and they think it doesn’t look good that you’re getting involved even deeper with a gay sex club.”
“Judas fucking priest, it’s not a sex club,” I spat out. Gay or not, I wasn’t going to listen to him talk shit about the club. We had people from across the whole damned spectrum lining up at the door because it was a safe space. It allowed them to play, in public or private, without having to have a ton of their own equipment. If my brother got his head out of his ass and got over his hang-ups, it was actually a place where he could get what he needed instead of being wound tight all the time. “And as for it being gay, who in the fuck cares? Yes, it started out that way, but it’s so much more than that. If anyone has an issue with my associations, tell them to man the fuck up and bring it to me.”
