Interlude: Outlaw

“Where’s Dad?”

“Ain’t fuckin’ here,” Outlaw snapped, annoyed he had to say anything to Snake, but not wanting to fuck up his own birthday party with a fucking fight.

Snatching a beer from a bucket in the middle of the table, Snake grabbed his best friend, Kit, from one of the chairs next to where Outlaw sat and shoved him aside. Uninvited, the motherfucker dragged the chair over and sat next to Val, who was busy rolling buds. Mortician and his kid brother, Marcus, sat side-by-side, looking at Mort’s cellphone, while Johnnie leaned back in his seat, sipping a beer and eyeing Snake with dislike.

“Snake?” Val called.

Snake lifted a brow, forcing Val to look at him to see if he had the motherfucker’s attention.

“Ever wonder about the first motherfucker that saw a strawberry and decided to taste it?”

Scowling, Snake shook his head. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Think about it, brother,” Val said, finished with three of the five buds he planned to roll. “How loud did the first motherfucker that saw a lobster scream?”

Outlaw snickered, enjoying the uncertainty entering Snake’s eyes. He owed Val.

A couple days ago, Outlaw had been elected as sergeant-at-arms. Big Joe promised they’d combine his birthday party and new title tonight. Although Outlaw celebrated with a lot of alcohol and even more pussy, he’d been looking forward to tonight.

“Where’s Dad?” Snake asked again, glancing at each of them before settling on Outlaw.

“We’re not Big Joe’s secretary, motherfucker,” Johnnie growled.

“We’re not.” Snake eyed Outlaw, then tipped his beer bottle toward him. “But he is. Dad wouldn’t skip his birthday without giving him a reason why.”

“As far as I fuckin’ know, he comin’ here,” Outlaw said in no mood to entertain motherfucking Snake.

There was no fucking love lost between the two of them. Outlaw never forgave Big Joe’s son for locking him in the meatshack and forcing him to dismember his friend. But he’d had a choice to make.

Allow Snake to win and give in to his fears. Or tackle the task and cut up an already dead man. If Outlaw had folded, he never would’ve lasted in the club. He’d either had to learn the same brutality or just give up and become the loser Logan saw him as.

Rack ambled up to the table, another motherfucker Outlaw couldn’t abide. Pig-eyed, fat-balled assfuck.

Snake glanced over his shoulder, then leaned forward, an unreadable expression on his face. “What do you know about my father’s other child?”

That caught everyone’s attention, especially Outlaw’s. He laughed. “Boss ain’t got no more kids.”

“I have it on good authority that he does. It’s a girl. She’s between eight and ten.”

“Uh, Snake, let’s go and—”

“Where does she live?” Snake continued, ignoring Rack. “I think she’s the reason he disappears. It’s bad enough I have to compete with you.”

“What the fuck that mean?” Outlaw demanded, ready to knock the fuck out of Snake.

“Take it however the fuck you want it,” the reptile snapped.

Rack grabbed Snake’s collar and dragged him to his feet. “Come on. I need to talk to you.”

“Big Joe got a daughter?” Val asked, once Rack and Snake walked through the archway and turned left.

“It’s why he left for a while,” Johnnie said, shrugging. “He told me a broad was knocked up the day he delivered news of my father, er…” He exchanged glances with Mort and Val, then cleared his throat. “The day I found out my father was dead.”

Killed by Logan. Their grandfather had been a motherfucker like that.

Nope. Was a motherfucker like that. He was almost positive he was still alive. If only Outlaw knew where, he’d sneak away and fuck him up. In the seven and a half months since he’d discovered his grandfather’s death, his life hadn’t been the same. Mainly because his little sister hated him.

He’d tried everything he could fucking think of to get her to talk to him. He’d asked Ma if she knew what had happened. If something had happened. Her behavior just seemed so illogical and out of Zoann’s character. She’d always been so smart and sassy, he’d insisted for such a monumental change in her personality to have taken place, something other than Logan’s death happened.

But Ma told him he’d gotten too used to the drama of the club whores. He was still trying to contact her to hear from her mouth that she was just overcome with grief.

“Hey, Outlaw.”

At the sound of Kiera Arnold’s shy greeting, he turned toward her. She was one of the prettiest girls he’d ever seen with endless legs, a small waist, beautiful titties that she tempted everyone with whenever she wore her tiny tops, like now. In two months, she’d turned eighteen and he’d retire as her unofficial guardian.

Mort was into her, although he tried to play it cool. Outlaw might play a cupid motherfucker. He’d prefer to see Mort with Ki than that cunt, Char. She was currently jerking Mort’s chains afuckingain. He should be tired of that bitch by now.

“Hey, babe.”

A blush stained her cheeks and he snickered.

“Guess who aced her SAT,” Ellen Cooper, Ki’s best friend, announced, sauntering up to the table and putting an arm around Ki’s tiny waist. “Kiera Arnold! Woot, woot.”

“That’s tight, Ki,” Mort said.

She ran her fingers through her hair. “Thanks, Mort.”

“Unfortunately, she doesn’t have money for her graduation shit,” Ellen went on, not caring about Ki’s mortification. “She’s offering a dick suck in exchange for three hundred dollars.”

Val frowned. “You ever sucked cock, Ki?”

“That would be a no, fuckhead,” Ellen answered.

“Then I can’t help you, babe. Don’t want my cock gnawed off.”

“Do you even have three hundred dollars, fool?” Mortician asked.

“That’s beside the point,” Val responded. “If she knew what she was doing, I would’ve found it.” He gave Ki an apologetic look. “Sorry, babe. I been dreaming of your lips wrapped around my cock.”

Kiera shifted from foot-to-foot. “You have?”

“Fuck, we all have,” Mark said, looking her up and down and licking his lips. “I’m turning twenty, nine months after you and I have three hundred dollars. If we go outside and you suck my cock, I’ll give you the money.”

“See? Told you, Ki.” Ellen said happily, sailing to Outlaw and sitting on his lap. She turned and kissed him, deep and open-mouthed, grinding against his stiffening cock. “I’m ready to suck you dry.”

Outlaw kissed her again. “My cock ready for you to suck him dry.”

“I want to join in,” Johnnie said lazily.

That sounded like an outstanding plan to Outlaw.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Digger reach Kiera’s side and whisper in her ear. She nodded, but the look on her face made it clear she didn’t want to suck cock for her graduation money.

“What’s up?” April asked as she bounced up to the table and kissed his lips, ignoring Ellen, who still sat on his lap. “Happy birthday, babe.”

Ellen looked ready to rip April’s eyes out, especially when Outlaw forced her to her feet, so he could pull April between the ‘v’ of his legs and kiss her. She fucked both Snake and Rack on the regular, although she preferred Big Joe’s son when she wasn’t sneak fucking Johnnie and Val.

They promised Outlaw he had no problems if he fucked April. Because he had no fucking intentions of hiding the fact he took April to his bed. The entire point of fucking her was to fuck with Snake.

He liked her well enough, but she was three or four years younger than him, and he preferred girls his own age. Just as Hopper had been. Often, he wondered what had become of her, but Big Joe shut those questions down whenever Outlaw asked about her.

Mark tugging Kiera toward the door made Outlaw pull his mouth from April’s.

“Ki?” he called, beckoning her back to him. He dug into his pocket and came up with all the bills he had on him. He snatched a hundred to pay Val, then opened Ki’s hand and set the money in her palm. He kissed her cheek. “If you need more, lemme know, babe. Hear me?”

“Truly?” she whispered.

He nodded.

“You don’t want me to suck you off?”

She almost sounded disappointed. He wasn’t going to lie to himself and say he wasn’t attracted to her. She was sweet and gorgeous and tall, but she was just so fucking young. Besides, Mort did like her and Outlaw wouldn’t begrudge his friend a good girl.

He’d gotten to twenty-five. Sooner or later, his lifestyle would catch up to him. Unlike Big Joe, who swore he’d live to a hundred, Outlaw didn’t foresee living past thirty or thirty-five. The world just wasn’t big enough for him and Snake to co-exist into old age.

Besides, this birthday was so fucking different. Since his twelfth birthday, the year he officially became the man of the house, Zoann had made a birthday card for him.

This year, she hadn’t even called him. Ma hadn’t wanted him to come over and no one knew where the fuck Big Joe was.

“Ki, come see this picture,” Mort called, beckoning her over and pointing to the chair that Mark had been sitting in.

“That’s some cold ass shit. First, you hijack my cock suck,” he said, pointing to Outlaw, then nodding to Mortician as Kiera plopped in the chair. “Then you give away my seat.”

April had made her way to Johnnie, who was whispering to her while she blushed and giggled.

Suddenly, Clint Eastwood by Gorillaz started playing on the jukebox. It was one of Outlaw’s favorite songs. He glanced over his shoulder, smiling at seeing Boss striding toward him, grinning from ear-to-ear.

“Happy birthday, boy,” Big Joe said gruffly, pulling him into a bear hug. “I was twenty-five once.”

“You can remember that far back?” Kiera asked, her eyes round.

They all laughed, and she smiled, pleased with herself.

“Good one, Ki,” Big Joe said, eyeing her with sudden interest before clearing his throat and looking at Outlaw again. “I got a call from someone in Seattle, and I need to hit the road.”

“Tonight?” Johnnie asked. “On Christopher’s birthday?”

“That’s why I stopped at the club first,” Big Joe said. “I want you fuckheads to come with me. We can spend the weekend at the Seattle clubhouse and show them how to party. They’re planning a big shindig for you, boy. Strippers. Alcohol. Dancing.”

Outlaw chuckled. “You the dancer, Boss. Not me.”

“Do you need us to bust some heads?” Johnnie asked, always ready to make a motherfucker bleed so he’d go into a killing frenzy.

“Nothing like that,” Big Joe responded, waving his hand in dismissal. “I just…” He glanced toward the hallway, snapping his mouth shut when Snake walked into the room.

He halted upon seeing Big Joe. “Dad,” he said in surprise. Happiness flickered in his icy blue eyes before his expression closed. “Couldn’t miss Outlaw’s big day and fancy party.”

“Never missed one of your birthdays either, son,” Boss responded. He glanced around the clubhouse. “You can’t even call this a get-together, Joey.”

The dull atmosphere didn’t have decorations or even food. The club girls probably thought Ma would handle the menu like she always did. She’d cook, then have Christopher, Johnnie, Mort, and Val pick up the food and bring it to the club.

“He got what he is, Dad.” Snake smirked at Outlaw. “Nothing.”

“Leave, Joey,” Boss ordered, before Outlaw responded, or his friends and cousin jumped to his defense.

Once Snake rounded up Kit, Relay, Tex, and Sinner, and they left the premises, Big Joe looked at April, Ellen, and Kiera. “Want to join the party?”

“I’m in,” April said, always ready to party, suck, and fuck.

Not to be outdone, Ellen sashayed to Boss, stood on tiptoe and pressed her mouth to his, losing herself in his kiss.

“Top that, bitch,” she sneered to April once she pulled away.

Laughing, Boss slapped Ellen’s ass.

“Ki not eighteen yet,” Outlaw said. “She can’t fuckin’ come.”

Her face fell. He wouldn’t be able to protect her for an entire fucking weekend while they were at an unfamiliar clubhouse.

“I’ll look after her,” Mort promised.

They all looked at Outlaw.

“Fuck, fine. Just keep her fuckin’ safe.”

“So, who’s riding with who?” Johnnie asked. “I don’t mind having April on the back of my bike.”

“Don’t look at us when Snake fuck you up,” Mort said. “Putting a bitch on the back of your bike all but declaring her as yours.”

Kiera frowned. Catching her eyes, Outlaw winked at her.

“Here, I was fuckin’ thinkin’ Ki could ride with you, Mort.”

His eyes widened, his dreads framing his face. He’d been growing them out for the past four years. After stealing a safe full of money from his father’s estate, he’d gotten a part of diamond studs and a skull ring. He’d donated money to the club for a few upgrades. Other than that, the stingy motherfucker refused to spend a nickel. Mark, on the other hand, burned through money like the fucking world was about to end.

“You ride with me, Ki,” Outlaw said.

Mort frowned. “No. Offering a ride don’t always mean something,” he backtracked. “Digger ride with me all the time.”

Brows lifted, Val turned to Mark. “That’s really going to be your road name if you earn your patch this summer?”

This debate had been going on for months.

“I dig motherfucking graves, Val. What should my name be?”

Val thought for a moment. “Abraham Lincoln. You tall and lanky just like number six.”

“Wasn’t he the fourteenth president?” Mark asked.

“Why don’t we just call you fucking Bozo?” Mort snapped. “Lincoln was the sixteenth president.”

“I was closer than him, Mort. And they didn’t teach us that in school.”

“I’m sure they did,” Val protested. “And he had the number six in his lineup.”

“Yeah, assfuck, with a one in front of it.”

“So he was the seventh president?”

“You’re making my fucking head hurt.” Big Joe dug into his pocket and came up with two sets of keys. He handed one to Val. “I’m crowning you the van driver from this moment on. We will get you advanced driving lessons.”

“We don’t have a van,” Val said.

“That’s why you have keys,” Johnnie said. “I think the van’s new.”

Val scratched his head. “You bought me a van?”

Big Joe shook his head. “I bought the club a van. To transport shit.”

“Bodies?” Johnnie asked hopefully.

“And drugs. And guns,” Big Joe said. “But for tonight—”

“I don’t want to be in a cage, Boss,” Val said. “Besides, shouldn’t Outlaw drive it?”

Big Joe held up the other set of keys. “Come outside,” he said, turning on his heel and giving them no choice but to follow.

Outside was cold and icy. Bikes dotted the parking lot and was interspersed with cars. Probates patrolled the grounds, walking the pathways that led to the warehouses and the one that snaked through the dark woods. There was a lot of land back there, all owned by the club. Far, far back was the old clubhouse building as well as a cave and a stream.

Near the driveway gate, the overhead lights gleamed off a shiny black pickup with chrome wheels and a covered bed.

Johnnie whistled. “Fuck, that truck’s a beaut.”

Big Joe tossed Outlaw the keys. “Happy birthday, boy. Titles are in the glove compartment. You didn’t think I’d let this milestone pass without something worthy of you?”

At first, Outlaw feared believing Big Joe. He’d been working his ass off for months to buy this truck after he’d first seen it at the dealership two models ago. The more he grinded, the more elusive his dream seemed.

His heart pounding, Outlaw pressed the fob to unlock the doors. Opening the passenger side, the new car smell hit him, and he laughed.

“Give me the keys,” Johnnie demanded. “I want to start it.”

“Fuck off, John Boy. Ain’t a motherfucker startin’ this the first time but me.”

He leaned against the leather seat, still unable to believe the truck belonged to him. When the driver side door opened, he lifted his head, ready to blast Johnnie. Upon seeing Kiera, he snapped his mouth shut. She flipped on the overhead light.

“It’s beautiful,” she breathed, glancing at the interior, comprised of leather and teakwood.

“I might let you drive it one day,” he teased.

“I-I can’t drive,” she admitted.

“We gonna remedy that, Ki.”

Her eyes lit up. After opening the glove compartment, he found the bill of sale and the title. Just as Big Joe promised, it belonged to Outlaw.

Wrapping an arm around Kiera waist, Mort slid between her and the door. “A beautiful ride need a beautiful chick to break it in, Outlaw.” He nodded to Ki. “Take her with you. I’ll let my brother ride bitch. I’ll find a hotel and get a room for me and him, and a room for Ki.”

“But I want to party with everybody and celebrate your birthday, Outlaw.”

Mort looked at him. “I’ll watch her. I promise.”

Outlaw thought for a moment. After securing his title in the glove compartment again, he ducked out of the car.

“Yo, Mark.” He whistled to draw the motherfucker’s attention away from Ellen and Val.

April and Johnnie were hugged up again. She would’ve lifted her head at Outlaw’s call, but Johnnie pulled her into his arms and kissed her. Big Joe was a short distance away, on the phone, pacing.

“From this moment on, you known as Digger.” He dug in his cut and tossed his bike keys to Mort. “Take my wheels. Let Digger ride yours.”

Smiling, Mort nodded.

“For real?” Digger whooped.

“Yeah, bro,” Mort said with pride. “But if you fuck up my bike, I’m busting your ass.”

Digger grinned and pointed to his face. “You don’t have it in you to fuck up this beautiful face.”

“If you think you beautiful, he should have it in you to buy you some fucking eyeglasses,” Val quipped.

“Says the motherfucker who thought the fourteenth president was the seventh,” Digger replied. “Face it, bruh. You ain’t got what I got: brains and beauty.”

Outlaw frowned. “You really do need glasses, huh, motherfucker?”

“That’s some cold ass shit, Outlaw,” Digger complained.

Big Joe stormed back over. “We need to ride,” he barked, his mouth tight with anger. “I have an urgent matter to see to in Seattle.”

With the bikes sorted, Val decided to take his motorcycle, too. Somehow, April ended up on the back of his bike, while Johnnie got Ellen. Once they mounted and Outlaw made sure Kiera was strapped into her seat in his brand new pickup, he cut his hand through the air, signaling they ride out.