"Oh, well hi Bud," I smile, petting him. I wrap my arms around him and he sits so calmly, letting me do whatever. He doesn't seem bothered by my hug.
"That's a lap dog if I ever saw one," Aaron chimes in, setting his helmet down on the coffee table.
He and Linc step outside together, to discuss some top-secret information I'm sure. I sit here, with Buddy laying down in my lap. Well. Stretching out across my legs, but it’s as 'in my lap' as he's going to get.
"What are you going to do with a dog?" Mindy asks.
"I'm going to try to find his home. Besides, I've always had dogs. Maybe having a dog wouldn't be such a bad thing." I stare down at this beautiful creature and part of me hopes that he doesn't have a home while the other part hopes that someone is missing this beautiful boy.
Because how sad is it that he's such a beautiful, sweet baby and he doesn't have a family to miss him?
Chapter Nine
Cass
It takes everything inside of me not to get on Trigger and ride straight home. Gater has no idea what's coming to him and when I get my hands on him, and restassured, I WILL, he will know exactly why he's getting what he deserves.
I feel like such a fucking idiot. I'm up here, burning skeletons and burying secrets to save my father's reputation and keep him from being caught and charged with murder and it never occurred to me that Lilly wasstilla fucking target.
I toss back a shot and slam the flimsy plastic shot glass down onto the bartop, crinkling it like a crushed coke can. I want to put my fist through a wall. A face. Something. But this is no one's fault but my own. If I could go back in time, I would've had Digger take care of Gater from the start, when I suspected he was dirty. Now he's wearing a fucking Moccasins cut, just like I knew he would.
He knows the rules. Out in bad standing is out in bad standing for every club. At least, every club that respects us. He's weaseled his way into the Moccasins, though, because there is no respectthere. I'm surprised there were even any Moccasins left. And that's when it all but slaps me in the fucking face.
Gater was the leak all along. Gater was giving inside information to them. And when the war was over, he stepped in for those that were left and took over. I bet he's been recruiting this whole time, building an army of fucking low-lives.
"Brother," Scott's hand on my shoulder rips me out of my thoughts.
"Yeah?" "You're turning red. You need to go blow off some steam?" he asks.
I shake my head. "Nah. I'm good. I just need Gater to be dealt with. I need him to stop fucking with me. We've known him for what, the last ten years? I know he's shady and he's made some shitty choices, but I didn't expect this from him."
"Me either. I never saw betrayal coming. He bled purple and gold. He lived for this club. It's too bad he's going to die for it, too," Scott says the words that I was thinking.
"We're done here. It's time to go home and take care of business," I demand.
Six Months Later
"Baby, can you bring me the other suitcase? I need more space for all your shit!" Lilly calls from the bedroom. She's got one suitcase on the bed that she's stuffing with clothes and evidently, she's running out of room.
"I don't even have that much shit!" I call back, but I'm already grabbing the other suitcase from the hall closet and bringing it to her. I lay it out on the bed, and she stuffs my bathroom bag, the blow-dryer, and a spare pair of my tennis shoes in the suitcase along with a few of her things.
"Ready?" I ask.
"Yes! I'msoexcited about this rally!" She nearly squeals with excitement.
Buddy is sprawled across the bed while Lilly finishes packing. He was supposed to be a temporary foster, but after one week, I knew he belonged with us. Lilly tried posting him in a few of the groups on social media for lost pets, but no one came forward and claimed him.
He's been the best dog. He doesn't bark, ever. He does try to hog the bed, but only Lilly's side where her feet go, so I'm not even that upset about it. She usually ends up wedged between the two of us, but she doesn't complain. Gater is still out there, but I feel a little more at peace with having Buddy. The full system of cameras that are both outside and in some parts of the inside of our home helps, too.
Lilly's been spending some time at the firing range, with either me, Scott, or Aaron, and she's actually turned into a decent shot. I like the fact that she's comfortable packing a pistol.
Gater is going to pop his slimy head up, and when he does, that's going to be his fucking ass. Every club in the area is on guard, ready to knock him out, on sight.
I'm half-expecting them to attempt to show face at the rally. It'd be pretty stupid of them, but I don't put it past them. Linc's got a camper he borrowed from a friend and Lilly and I bought a motorhome for this rally, and all the others we plan to attend. We talked about taking some time and loading up Bud dog and traveling around, going to rallies, and exploring the spaces between. There are rallies all over, some bigger than others, so we'd have a fair selection of places to go.
I've always wanted to go on one long road trip, visiting every single one of our clubhouses along the way, so maybe we'll do a combination of both when things settle down here.
Clayton and Brock aren't under the gun anymore in Oklahoma. With the fire that spread, any evidence that didn't come out of the belly of that alligator has been destroyed. Burnt to a very charred crisp. That investigation has tanked and nomention of it has come up in the last six months. Clayton dodged a bullet. He did finally spill and tell me what happened in that shed and how Barry's car ended up in that pond. If there has been any new developments in the case, it hasn't been anything substantial. Clayton's sources inside the department say that it's gone cold, with no suspects and no ties to the Hounds.
