Chapter 3

Maverick

"Goddamn, that was a long trip," I sighed as soon as we rolled back into the parking lot of the clubhouse. It was damn good to be back home after a long ride to Northern California for a three-day trip to sell a few crates of guns to a friendly MC. The money was good, but the ride back was exhausting.

"Long as fuck," Rocky agreed. "Make sure you count the cash before you stick it in the safe. I'm going home to see my woman. And my baby."

I nodded my agreement. It was Rebel's job to deal with club finances, but when it came to big cash exchanges like this, we did two counts. "You ready, Rebel?"

"Yeah, let's get this shit over with. I'm ready to be home. Now." He shook his head and dropped his helmet on the nearest table with a grunt. "I've got these bags, you get the other two."

"Man, you're the treasurer, when are we gonna start doing some of this shit digitally?"

He shrugged. "Don't know. Slate says it's possible to do it without anyone like the government knowing what's going on, but you know we keep getting outvoted." He dropped the bags on the table inside the sanctuary where we held church. "I'll count first."

"Sounds good." I left the cash with him and checked the time. It was after nine at night and I was tired and hungry.

I took a walk out to the bar to grab a drink and something to eat. "Hey, Tess, how's it going?"

"Good," she answered with a kind smile. Then her smile faded. "I have a message for you."

"What is it?" It seemed lately that it was one shit show after another. First it was Robert Carter and then the Red Skulls MC, then Peyton's stalker. It was always fucking something, which was part of MC life, but it was a nonstop barrage lately. "Tess?"

She poured a shot and slid it across the bar. "Mabel isn't doing well."

"Tell me something I don't know."

"Well, all right, but first drink up." She nodded to the shot of Cuervo and waited for me to throw it back. "Mabel is in the hospital, they couldn't get you on your cell so they called here. She's not in any danger, but that's about all they would tell me since I'm not family."

"Shit." I slid the glass back to her. "I got something to do first, but I'll need another one of those before I head out."

"Sure thing. I'm sorry about your grandmother, Mav."

"Yeah, thanks." I needed to find a solution to Mabel's health problems. She needed someone to care for her full time, because I'd be damned if I was gonna put her in a nursing home.

Grabbing a handful of peanuts, I wandered back to our meeting room. "You done yet?"

Rebel looked up with a mischievous smile. "Hot date?"

I snorted. "Fuck, I wish. Mabel is in the hospital."

"Shit, brother, I'm sorry."

"Me too."

Twenty minutes later, the cash was counted and recounted, all four times we ended up with the same amount, which meant I was free to go to the hospital to see my grandma.

***

"I'm sorry, sir, but visiting hours are over." The nurse was just doing her job, I knew that. But knowing that didn't mean shit when she stood between me and my grandmother.

"I'm not here for a visit, lady. I need to see my grandmother, I just got back in town."

"I understand," she began slowly like I was a fucking moron. "But it's too late today. Come back tomorrow at eight."

I took a step closer to intimidate her, not to threaten, but her wide brown eyes told me she was afraid, so I stepped back again. "I'll be back tomorrow, but right now I just need to see her, please. I need to lay eyes on my grandma, so I know for myself that she's all right. She's all I have," I admitted reluctantly.

The woman weighed her options once she realized I wasn't a threat to her safety. "Okay, fine. Five minutes and that's all."

"Thank you," I sighed. "Seriously, thank you so damn much."

With a nod, she led me to Mabel's room, where I found my short, round grandma smiling up at the television mounted on the wall. "Dylan! What are you doing here?"

I frowned. "Better question is what are you doing here? Last we spoke, you were fine."

"I was," she agreed. "But I couldn't remember if I took my blood pressure medicine, so I took it, again apparently, and ended up in here for the night."

"Grandma." I went to her and hugged her tight. "You scared the shit out of me."

"Language," she admonished automatically. "I'm glad you're here."

"I'm sorry, Grandma. I was in an area with no service and I didn't get your calls. How long are they planning to keep you here?"

"Just until morning, as long as my blood pressure goes back to normal."

I nodded. "I'll be here to take you home."

Her eyes lit up. "You gonna let me ride on the back of your bike?"

"Absolutely not. We'll be leaving here on four wheels, young lady." An adorable blush stained her cheeks. "I'm going to stay with you until I find a solution. I promise."

"Maybe it's time I went into a retirement home?" My grandma looked resigned to her fate.

"Absolutely not, we'll work something out."

"You're a good boy, Dylan, but I don't want you stopping your life for me."

"I'm not. Besides, you're my best girl. Don't even worry about it. Be good for the nurses and I'll see you in the morning, yeah?"

She nodded and pulled me down to kiss my cheek. "Good night, Dylan."

"Night, Grandma."

I thanked the nurse and stormed out of the hospital, feeling angry at the unfairness of Mabel's declining health. Overwhelmed with the choices I had to make sooner rather than later. Not even the roar of my bike could settle my whirling emotions, and before I knew it, I was parked in the lot of The Den. The strip club always had a nice view, the drinks were strong, and it was a place where bikers could unwind in peace.

I heard the pulsing beat before I even opened the door, and it grew thunderous when I stepped inside. The interior was black leather and mahogany wood, and the red and black lights gave the entire building a sexy bedroom feel, at least it did if you blocked out the rowdy shouts to see more skin.

"Whiskey neat," I said to the half-naked waitress who approached my booth with a predatory smile on her face. I wasn't here for a private dance, a blow job, or anything else but some fucking peace and quiet. "Please," I bit out, because I wasn't usually an asshole.

"Sure thing, sugar." She sauntered off, making sure my eyes were glued to her round, tight ass. I might not have been interested, but I wasn't immune to a fine ass, or a great set of tits.

I scanned the club while I waited for my drink, and though there were small groups of bikers all around the room, the tables closest to the stage were occupied by nine to fivers in loose ties, frat boys probably celebrating somebody's twenty-first birthday, and a few shady-looking dudes probably making an illegal deal of some sort.

The usual for The Den.

What wasn't usual was the gorgeous woman with the unnaturally red hair currently talking to the owner, Marco. He was a leech, but he ran a clean club where a man could tie one on without getting into too much trouble. But the way he gripped the shoulder of the redhead put me on edge.

Marco held her shoulder and pointed to a balding man with a big wad of cash. His toothy grin faded when she shook her head quickly, eyes wide. Even from this distance I could see she was terrified. She literally trembled with fear and every protective instinct within me rose up.

"Here's your drink, honey."

"Thanks," I answered absently. "In five minutes, bring me another please."

"Sure thing."

The woman squirmed out of Marco's grip, and he reached for her again. This time, he grabbed her around the waist and whispered in her ear. At first glance it looked like an intimate gesture, one of close friends or lovers, but the telltale sign of impending tears glistened in her eyes.

It's not my business and I shouldn't get involved, I told myself. I already had enough shit on my plate. But I knocked back the whiskey and stood, knowing I couldn't just sit by when a woman looked scared and let it go. I wasn't wired that way.

Then again, maybe this was just what I needed.