Page 6 of Dread’s Beloved

Pricie is Dark’s granny, and the woman knows her way around a fucking kitchen. Best down home cooking I’ve had in my life has been served at her table. Only problem is bitch is crazy as all get out, and you never know which version of her you’re going to get because she refuses to take her meds. One day she might feed you soup. The next time you could get a boiled leather boot. Doesn’t help matters that everyone in town claims she’s a witch.

Hell, maybe she is. Wouldn’t be the strangest thing to happen here.

Legend has it that the Devil himself haunts the hills of Kill Creek. Shit, people have accused us of making deals with him because the club owns Final Ride Mortuary. But every Grave Prowlers MC chapter owns a funeral parlor. We use the custom coffins we build as a cover for running guns, drugs, and moonshine. Only thing we don’t traffic is people. At least not the living, as far as I know.

I round up the guys and secure the money bag behind the driver’s seat of the box truck.

We stop off to fill up at the Pump ‘N Shop, and I grab a couple of pizza rolls from the hot bar to hold me over until later. Haunt comes out with some beef sticks and candy. Horror dumps some ice into the cooler along with some drinks. There aren’t many places to stop since we’re hitting the back roads to avoid the Kentucky State Police. I swear them motherfuckers know how many sheets of toilet paper I use to wipe my ass.

We do periodic sweeps for trackers and bugs. Never know who will be trying to listen in or track our location.

In our business, you can’t afford to be careful. We’ve got plenty of enemies outside our run-ins with the law. The Raven Fork Reapers have been a problem as long as I’ve been a member of the club. Things escalated over twenty years ago when one of those pieces of shit murdered Kitty’s babysitter in cold blood with her in the house. It was her description of the evil fuck that put him away. The clubs were already rivals, disputing over territory, but that shit was the icing on the cake. Tensions are always high, but word on the street is Buzz is going to kick the bucket any day now. Cancer. The day he croaks, all hell will break loose. His son is in prison for the murder, and the rest of his crew can’t stop fighting long enough to pick a new Prez.

Good time to exterminate them if you ask me, but Dark doesn’t want to start a war. If we’re lucky, they’ll kill each other off and we won’t have to lift a fuckin’ finger.

“I know one thing…,” Haunt starts as he takes a big bite off a stick of jerky. “Kitty, man. Damn. Divorce is doing her a world of good.”

“Don’t be disrespectful.”

He chuckles. “Come off the good-guy shit. I see the way you look at her. Hell, we all look at her that way. She’s fit as fuck. Damn good woman. Be a shame to see her get back with that loser.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Couple of us were out last night. That piece of shit Zane was around. Drunk. Talking out of his ass about how he could have her back if he wanted.” He shrugs and cracks open a can of Coke.

“Kitty wouldn’t go there.”

“I don’t know. He was talking a lot of shit. Made it sound like all he has to do is call her and she’d come running.”

“She’s grown and can do what she wants. It's none of our business.”

“All I’m saying is if I was interested, I’d be making my move before that dipshit slides back in.”

I snort and tear into one of my pizza rolls.

Zane Hayes is a fucking loser. Kitty has always been too pretty and too damn good for him. If she wants to take that asshole back, it’s not my place to care, but she deserves better. My mind flashes to her perfectly pouty, kissable lips. She’s gorgeous with her big eyes and blonde hair. She’s got an hourglass figure. My mother always called them birthing hips. Guess Kitty should consider herself lucky she didn’t have kids with that cheating dickhead.

“You still seeing that brunette? Ashlynn or whatever her name is.” I change the subject. There’s no point talking about Kitty and whether or not she’s with her fuckwad ex. She’s off limits. Especially to me.

I’m too old for her and come with my own brand of fucked-up baggage.

“Nope. She walked in on me getting my dick sucked by Candy.”

I shake my head. There’s really nothing to say to that. “Sucks to suck.”

“Whatever. If you’re not going to ask Kitty out, maybe I will.”

“Your funeral.”

“You think Prez would kill me?”

“Have you met Dark? Better yet, have you met you?” I laugh. “Do you really think he’d want to see Kitty get with you? We all know you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“I’d try for her.”

“Right.”

“What? You think I can’t?”