And I didn’t lighten up on Shea’s protection either. Hillbilly and I coordinated a rotating shift of bikers to look out for her. If they were busy, I was the one who camped out in Hotline’sparking lot, followed Shea home, or stood guard outside her house.
Ritter’s threat wouldn’t stop replaying on an endless loop in my mind, and it chilled me to the bone.
He cracked a joke about how wonderful it would be to keep Shea all to himself. Like a butterfly, with pretty pinned wings.
My gaze followed Shea around the clubhouse. She really was as pretty as a butterfly, with tattoos covering nearly every inch of her skin. Her dark hair was tinged with streaks of vibrant, neon blue to match her eyeliner.
She scooped up Kenny as he wandered by and blew a raspberry on his tummy. He squirmed, giggling so hard that his cheeks turned red. Then Shea plopped him onto her lap and smothered his face in more kisses.
An ache took root in my chest, rising up to my throat. Despite the numerous years that we’d known each other, despite the closeness of our friendship, I suddenly realized that I’d never heard Shea mention having kids of her own. Or getting married. Was that something she wanted one day?
Judging by the way Kenny settled down into her arms almost instantly, she would make an incredible mother.
It was good to see Shea happy like this. Surrounded by people who cared for her. I wished I could keep her here indefinitely, so she didn’t have to face the threat of that Ritter creep ever again.
Hillbilly made a noise of protest and waved everyone off.
“Enough of your fussing,” he said, good-naturedly.
Keely kissed his cheek and patted his shoulder.
“Thank you for pretending that you didn’t know anything about the party. Even after I spilled the beans and ruined the surprise.”
“That’s because I threatened him to act right,” Lila quipped. “I’m mean and he’s scared of me.”
Hillbilly scoffed.
“I’m not scared of anyone, young lady. Especially not a little firecracker like you.”
“Sure, Dad, whatever you say,” she chirped.
The clubhouse had been transformed for Hillbilly’s birthday party, draped in streamers and filled with balloons. The bar became a buffet full of his favorite food—waffles with an assortment of toppings. Chocolate chips and whipped cream, sliced strawberries and blueberries, caramel sauce and fried chicken and seven different kinds of syrup.
Ironside, Vice President of the Reckless Order, slapped a stack of brochures and pamphlets onto the table next to Hillbilly.
“It’s time to start looking into retirement homes, old man,” he announced.
“Over my dead body,” Hillbilly replied, digging into his stack of waffles, drenched in chocolate syrup and pecans.
Ironside chuckled and took the seat beside him.
“All right then, what about a second marriage?”
Hillbilly grunted and shot him a look that clearly said,you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
“Did Lila pay you to ask that question?”
Ironside pulled a ten-dollar bill out of his cut pocket and held it up with a smirk.
“I told her that I was willing to do it for free, though, if that makes you feel any better.”
“I didn’t realize your loyalty could be bought so cheaply.”
I swirled a generous helping of whipped cream onto my waffles.
“What do you have against a second wife, Prez?” I asked. “Wouldn’t it be nice to come home to someone at the end of the day?”
Hillbilly huffed with amusement.
