The sound of a bike—and not Dom or Butch’s—drew our attention and we all looked over to the main gates of the clubhouse, where one of the prospects was pulling them open. Gauge, the Devil’s Highwaymen’s sergeant at arms, pulled through the gates and parked his bike, duck-walking it back into position alongside all the others that were lined up. A skinny pair of arms were wrapped around his waist, and Butch pulled his glasses off to get a good look at who it was. Whoever it was, was female, I decided.
Gauge never had a woman with him.
Never.
Club whores were more his thing.
Not only that, but Hardy, didn’t let just anyone roll up in there. The Devil’s Highwaymen were responsible for almost half of the drugs moving in and out of the state of Georgia, and despite most of the cops in the county being on our payroll, precautions still had to be adhered too.
I looked over at Butch and he shrugged at me without looking away from Gauge, already sensing the question I hadn’t voiced yet.
“This should be interesting,” Dom said, lighting a cigarette and settling in for the show.
I turned to look back at Gauge as he cut the engine of his bike and pulled off his helmet. He eyeballed Butch and Dom, barely noticing me standing there, and then he climbed off his bike with a grunt. Gauge was around twenty-eight or thirty, with dark hair and a long beard. Most days he wore a little black beanie hat that we all ridiculed him for, because come rain or shine, he always wore that damn hat. He was quiet, never talking when talking wasn’t called for, but he was a mean motherfucker underneath his quietness.
Gauge started walking toward us, and then I sawher.
I swallowed hard and tried not to stare,despitethe fact all I could do was fucking stare.
Even at fourteen years old I knew she was fucking special. My kind of special.
Long, straight, dark hair that hung down her back and warm olive skin just begging for me to touch it. She was wearing some little black ankle boots and a pair of cutoff denim shorts and a T-shirt so thin I could practically see her bra underneath. And when she lifted her leg off of Gauge’s bike, I swear her legs led the way to heaven.
She paid none of us any mind as she followed Gauge into the clubhouse, her hands clutching onto the straps of the backpack on her back and a hard scowl on her face as she glared at Gauge’s back. I followed her with my eyes until she was out of sight.
“Looks like little Jesse is in love,” Dom laughed with Butch, and I turned to glower at them both, feeling my cheeks heat up.
“Shut up! She’s just a nice piece of ass is all,” I said, scratching at my chin and wishing I had a badass beard like Gauge’s.
“Wouldn’t let Gauge hear you saying that about her,” Pops said, cracking open a bottle of beer as he came outside.
Pops wasn’t actually our pops, but he was the pops of the clubhouse. He’d been a member since almost the beginning, and though he didn’t really get too involved with club business anymore, his vote still counted, and so did his advice. His wife had passed a few years back, and he spent practically all day and every day down at the clubhouse now, drinking and fucking anything he could get his hands on. “Nothing much better to do till I die,” he always said. And I couldn’t disagree with him.
“She’s a little on the young side to be his old lady,” Butch said, lighting a cigarette and making the comment that I had been thinking. I reached for his pack of cigarettes and he slapped my hand away. “No fuckin’ chance.”
I didn’t bother to argue with him on it, knowing he never backed down and I had some inside anyway. Pops came closer, downing half his beer in one gulp. Despite his constant heavy drinking, he was still one of the wisest men I knew.
“That’s Gauge’s daughter,” he said.
“Gauge has a daughter?” Dom laughed. “Get the fuck outta here, old man!”
Pops spat on the floor and took Butch’s cigarette from his hand. “Sure is. She’s about thirteen or so. Her mom was some hooker down in Florida that he used to hook up with some years back. Social services got in touch with Gauge last week after her mom found out she had HIV and wanted him to take care of the kid now that she had one foot in the grave. He didn’t even know he had a kid.”
“How’d he know she’s really his? I mean, if she was hooking the kid could be anyone’s,” Butch replied.
“Got the DNA test done to prove it. So she’s coming to stay with Gauge until he can think of somewhere better for her to be.” Pops turned and started walking back inside.
“Why can’t she just stay with him?” I said, following Pops and ignoring the wolf whistles from Butch and Dom. We headed back inside and I looked around for her, but couldn’t locate her anywhere. The door to Hardy’s office was closed and the blinds were drawn, so I guessed that they were in there.
“He don’t know how to take care of some kid—’specially not some girly!” Pops laughed. “’Sides, this ain’t the life for a kid.”
“I’m doing all right and I’m a kid. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with my life,” I protested, already panicking about her leaving before I’ve even managed to get to know her.
Shit, before I’d even managed to speak to her.
Pops patted me on the shoulder. “You ain’t just some kid, Jesse.”
“Sure fuckin’ feels like it sometimes,” I replied, meaning every word of it.
