“You may be right about that. We’re loyal to him, to our brother, but we’re not fucking yellow minions.”
“Sure.” I beg to differ on that, but we can respectfully disagree.
“Thank you for letting him know about Melissa. Whatever has her upset, we’ll find out. She’s stubborn, but she’ll talk when she’s ready. But never accuse Earl of hurting her again, or it’ll be me you’ll deal with.” With those parting words, he turns and makes his way back onto the porch, entering the house, and shutting the door behind him.
When I’m left alone in the dark night, I turn and head back to my truck. It takes a moment for the conversation with Earl to seep in and I pound my palms on the steering wheel as I let out a shallow scream of frustration. Wouldn’t want the posse in the house to come stampeding out for causing a raucous in their driveway.
As much as I loathe Earl, in my gut I know he’s telling the truth. While I don’t know his and Mels’ history, I do know that he loves her. It’s evident in how he looks at her and treats her.
Turning the key, I put the truck in reverse and back out of the driveway, heading to my next stop—a house I don’t plan to enter, but watch.
It takes thirty minutes to get there and I pull across the street, parking diagonally, just barely obscured by trees with still enough visibility to have eyes on the house. It’s dark but alone shimmering light from the living room. A lamp, maybe a television.
I turn my truck off and spread my legs, trying to get comfortable as I set in to watch my woman, like a lovesick puppy. The occasional flickering of a light leads me to lean more toward a TV now, as a dark silhouette passes in front of the sheer curtains. She’s home and she’s safe. I let out a sigh of relief and a wave of ease flows through me.
But there’s still a burning question that I need an answer to. Well, two questions. Why was she that upset? And who was the dick on the phone?
My head rests against the seat as my arms relax in my lap, my fingertips tapping out a beat reminiscent of morse code on the steering wheel.
If it wasn’t Earl who upset her, then it was him. Whatever he said to her made her a broken mess.
My phone buzzes in the console, and I pick it up.
Unknown: Don’t ever show up at my daughter’s house again.
I let out a snort. Fucker.
Me: I won’t. But I needed to talk to you and it couldn’t wait.
Then, just to push his buttons, I type another message.
Me: Unlike you though I didn’t need my boys to have my back or my daughter to fight my battles.
There’s nothing for a moment. But I know he’s not going to let it go.
Tiny bubbles begin to dance up and down on the screen, disappearing and reappearing before doing the same rhythmic up and down. I know he’s pissed and I’m loving it. Anything to get under his skin is a win. I quickly save his contact number in my phone.
Bikerpussy: I’m gonna let that comment slide. This time.
Bikerpussy: Do it again and you’re pig food.
Bikerpussy: Now about Mel, well we need to talk. I want to know who was on the phone and what exactly happened.
Me: Seems we can agree on Mels.
Bikerpussy: Tomorrow, noon at the garage.
I drop the phone into the console and start up my truck. Mels is home, and I know she’s okay. Now I need to find out who the fuck was calling her.
I turn on my lights. Their beams dance across the sleek, polished chrome of the Harley parked down the street from me. Should have known after I told him how Mels was, he’d have oneof his little groupies following her. His club brothers, as they call them, have drank one-to-many cups of his Kool-Aid.
I nod my head in acknowledgment as I pass. A trickle of amusement races through my mind about how long it took him to let Earl know I was sitting there.
The road stretches before me and I run my hand through my short hair, pulling at the ends as I head home. I pick up my phone and hit the one button that I only use in emergencies.
The ringing through the speaker fills my cab.
“Jaxton, my man, long time no talk. What can I do for you?”
