As the name suggests, Feast Fest is all about eating. Street tacos, ribs, gourmet burgers, barbeque. The local bakery is selling donuts where you can pick your own filling, and the Beavertails next to us have been blasting my nostrils all night with a heavenly mix of sugar and cinnamon.
The Sinners are raising money for South Bay Sec’s football team. Triss says they do a lot of fundraisers. Much more than Jimmy did when he was prez. Axe has been trying to clean up their image. Prove that the Sinners are more than just the scary outlaws at the west end of town.
We’re selling pulled pork sandwiches with slaw and smoked brisket on a bun. And chili, of course. Jack made it all the time when I was a kid, and the smell of it alone pulls up all sorts of memories. Sunday dinners at the clubhouse, middle of fall, the building filled with a thick, delicious aroma of spices, garlic, and onion. It smells like home.
Triss rests her hands on her hips and sighs. “I think we’re gonna run out of food. I seem to have underestimated the popularity of smoked meat.”
Brow arched, I drop my attention to her chest. Like me, she’s wearing a tight black tank top that sits high on her midriff and low on her breasts. Between the four of us working tonight, we’ve got more cleavage on display than any other vendor here.
“That’s not the only thing making us popular.”
Triss folds her arms over her stomach and glares at the two other women with us. Bex, a punk-rock chick with tattoos, bleach-blond hair, and a small, sleeping baby strapped to her gigantic chest. And Kat, Triss’s pretty dark-haired younger sister and Axe’s old lady. The three of them have been arguing on and off about the tank tops all night.
“That face doesn’t work on me,” Bex says as she gives a handful of change and a sandwich wrapped in foil to an ogling man with a mustache.
“I’m tired of you two always squeezing me into something ridiculous. First the fucking dress, now this,” Triss says.
With a roll of her eyes, Kat slops a spoonful of dripping pork onto a sandwich roll. “Move on from the dress. It’smywedding. I decide what you wear.”
“It’s not appropriate for a church,” Triss snaps. “It’s too tight, Kat. None of my bits are covered.”
“So? You’ve got good bits.”
“Doesn’t mean I want to flash them to the entire club. Or to the minister.”
Sighing, Kat packs up the sandwich and then tosses it to Bex. “You’re the only one complaining.”
“Yeah? Well, Jade’s a stripper and Bex isn’t exactly modest in the chest department. Her tits are hanging out, like, all the time.”
Bex absentmindedly pats her baby’s bum as she hands out another sandwich. “Can’t help it. You know I’ve gone up two cup sizes since I started breastfeeding?”
“A little hardnotto notice.” Triss huffs out a breath and tugs at her tank top. “I’d really like it if we could negotiate on the dress.”
“There’s nothing to negotiate. It’s decided. Which reminds me.” Kat nods at me. “Should I add you to the guest list?”
“Oh. Um…” I trail off, busying myself with the bun restock.
In the absence of my bike, product, and cash, my plans to vacate South Bay have been put on hold. My bike seems to bemissing,which Triss says is code for it’s being held up as a way to irritate us. The police do shit like slowing down paperwork to put pressure on the Sinners.
Though my bike isliterallymissing.
Motorcycle woes aside, hanging out at the clubhouse this week has been kind of nice. It’s busy and loud, the nights filled with eighties rock and too many tequila shots. Chaotic, but in a good way. Triss has tried extra hard to make me feel at home, and Kat let me raid her closet, so I don’t have to continue rotating through just the few pieces of clothing I hastily packed before fleeing Raider territory.
It’s been years since I’ve felt this. A sense of home, of belonging. Of family.
If I don’t think about all the other stuff—the threatening texts from the man hunting me, my history with a rival MC, and Decker, with hisleverageand those chiseled abs I can’t get out of my head—I could almost say I enjoy being back in South Bay.
But there’s no use getting too attached. Just like Jimmy did all those years ago, I made a choice. One I knew would permanently sever me from the Sinners, from my family. Meaning I can’t keep this.
I clear my throat. “I’m not sure if I’ll be staying,” I say to Kat. “I’m not really a one-city kind of girl, you know?”
“Bit of a nomad, huh?”
A low laugh escapes me. “You make it sound a lot sexier than it is. More like only owning a couple outfits and a lot of couch surfing and crappy apartments.”
“That’s my nightmare,” Triss says with a shudder. “Just think about it, okay? Would be nice to have you around a little more. I think Jack would like that.”
“Sure, Triss,” I say, forcing a smile.
