Chapter Eleven Wildcard

CHAPTER ELEVEN: WILDCARD

I take Brigit's hand as we follow Preacher and Colt outside. Colt's chattering to his grandfather about all the things he wants to do with him. Things that his friend back in Boston does with his grandfather. His list has me considering all the things I want to do with my son. My son. I never imagined being a father and yet, here I am. I'd spent the last several months watching Puma and Chill turn into parents. Now, it's my turn. I study Colt, my heart filling with pride and love as I think of all the things we get to do together. As father and son. Brigit squeezes my hand to draw my attention.

"It's amazing, isn't it?" She asks, nodding at Colt. "How quickly a child embeds himself into your heart?"

I nod as I fight to regain control of my emotions. "Thank you for bringing him to me. For trusting me to protect you both."

"You will always be the person I trust most with my life and, more importantly, with Colt's life. I hope you know that? And that you can't get rid of us now that we're here?"

With a whoop, I lift her up and twirl her around. She's laughing when I put her back on her feet so I can capture a kiss. The sound of two distinct voices spluttering ‘ew' interrupts our kiss. We turn to look at the culprits. Preacher and my son.

"Ew?" I ask with a smirk at Preacher. He just shrugs.

"She's still my little girl."

"And my mom," Colt chimes in.

"Would you feel better knowing that my kisses have convinced your mom and daughter to stay here in Vegas?"

"Really?" They both ask. When Brigit nods, Colt runs to her and slams into her legs. "I get a daddy and a grandpa? Thank you, mommy!"

"You're welcome," Brigit chuckles. "Now let's go see what the other kids are doing."

I watch Brigit's eyes widen when she gets a look at the playground Puma designed and installed for the next generation. Not only does it have the standard fair, but Puma, being Puma, couldn't resist adding embellishments. Things rarely found in a kid's playground. Puma is competitive, so of course, he made sure the playground facilitated competitions between the kids.

The kids have two slides, so they can race each other. Rings hang down so that when the kids swing, they can grasp the rings and declare themselves winners. The kids can race up rock walls or across the monkey bars. But the most impressive feature of the gym is the set of turrets on each end. The kids can wage war using Nerf guns. There's even a flag for each team so they can play capture the flag. Puma didn't skimp on fun, but he also took every precaution to ensure their safety while they play.

"Impressive," Brigit whispers. "I've never seen a playground like this before."

"Puma loves spoiling the kids. Wait until you see the entertainment room."

With pride, I watch Elina and the others run toward us and grab Colt's arm to pull him into their chaos. Preacher takes a seat at the covered picnic table where Alisa, Viper, and Hunter are already sitting. He winces when Viper sends him an angry look. She befriended Preacher and invited him to the clubhouse. I know she feels guilty that he used her friendship to attack me. Brigit and I stand nearby and watch our son race Slade down the slides while Elina and Angel hop on the swings. We're only missing Mal. I wonder how adding a fifth member to their group will change the dynamics. But knowing Elina, she'll have them all organized soon enough.

"Puma's expecting us," I remind Brigit, taking her hand and leading her back inside. I take a detour to show her the entertainment room and laugh as she takes in a room with so many activities for kids that it makes Chuck E. Cheese look bland.

"I can tell Puma is all about the kids, but doesn't having so many underfoot cause problems for the single club members?" Brigit asks. "I mean, don't motorcycle clubs' pride themselves on wild parties with half-naked women on tap? At least that's how the books I've read portrayed them."

I chuckle and give her a hip check. "You've read books on MCs?" She flushes and sends me a cheeky grin.

"Seemed like the natural choice, since I fell for a biker."

"We used to be like that. Not any longer. At least not here. Of course, it's easier for the guys since we're in Vegas. They're just a quick ride away from, well, a quick ride, if that's what they're looking for."

"So, what about other clubs?"

"Not all are as child-friendly as this one. But since Dante took over as the President of the Original Chapter, we've all slowly transitioned into places where none of us would be afraid to take our kids. Believe me, that wasn't the case when Dante's father was the President. Well, you know how Squiggy ran this club. The rest were just as bad, or worse. Things are changing. The Original Chapter in San Diego has several Old Ladies, so the number of Kutte Bunnies has plummeted. The New Orleans Chapter, which is our newest chapter, has Kutte Bunnies, but they're more like maid service. They clean and cook while fully dressed. Chicago and some of the older clubs are probably more like the books you've read."

When we reach Puma's office, I knock before opening the door. Inside, we find Puma, Chill, and Spark sitting around the conference room table. It's a smaller version of the table we have in Church. But both proudly display our logo etched in the center. I pull a chair out for Brigit and take the seat next to her.

"I'm Chill," our SOA introduces herself to Brigit. Brigit shakes her hand and offers her a smile.

"I was stunned when Wildcard told me his SOA was a woman. Squiggy would never have let a woman become a member, much less hold a title."

"Squiggy's lucky he never met me. Is he the reason you kept Wildcard from his son?"

Brigit sucks in a breath, but puts her hand on my leg when I shift toward Chill. "Yes. He's the reason. I knew if he discovered where I was that he'd come for me. I couldn't risk him finding us."

"So, why didn't you reach out after Squiggy died?" Chill persists.

"Because she didn't know he was dead. I didn't tell her," I explain. "Anything else?"

"No. Just to tell you that you're a dumb fuck for not calling her and bringing her home sooner."

Brigit giggles when I scowl at Chill. "Yeah, I know. Don't need the reminder."

Chill shrugs as Puma takes charge of the meeting. "I want to patch Havoc and Wired into this meeting. Wired has been helping Spark. Havoc has a right to know what his techie is up to. But I also think Havoc might have contacts we can use to help clear Brigit."

"Clear her of what?" Chill asks.

"We'll get you caught up." Puma assures her. "But I don't want to make Brigit have to repeat her story multiple times." Chill dips her head in agreement.

Puma dials the number and Havoc answers. "Havoc and Wired, here."

"I have Chill, Wildcard, Spark, and Brigit in my office."

"Brigit, I understand you were living in our beautiful city. Wish we had met," Havoc starts. I stiffen, but keep my mouth shut. I know Havoc is still pissed with me, but I don't think he'll take it out on her. At least he better not. I glance at Puma, who is watching me.

"I'm sorry that we didn't meet, but I couldn't risk Squiggy finding out where I was. Could you have guaranteed that no one coming through your clubhouse would have told him?"

The silence on the other end is tangible. But Havoc sighs. "No, I couldn't have guaranteed it. Still pissed off, but I get it. Squiggy was a piece of shit, but he was a connected piece of shit. He might have had spies at other clubs searching for you. You made the right call, Wildcard."

I nod, even though he can't see me.

"So, with that out of the way, Brigit, can you tell us what happened yesterday?"

"I can't believe it was just yesterday," Brigit starts before describing how she witnessed her boss's murder and the man who killed him.

"You're certain it was Misha Orloff?" Havoc asks.

"Positive. I've met him several times at the hotel. He often ate at the restaurant and spent the night. I spoke to him the few times that Mike had me join the poker tournaments he hosted."

"Why did he want you there?" I ask.

"I'm good. Mike liked it when I won, as long as I didn't win too much. However, I only attended a few times. The games started out friendly, but eventually the other players made me feel uncomfortable. Especially Misha. He asked me out and when I said no, he got more aggressive."

So, Misha has signed his death warrant. Pushing himself on my woman has earned him a painful demise.