Fallon (Henchmen MC Next Generation #3) - Jessica Gadziala Page 0,3
We all know how it works when a new chapter opens up," I reminded him.
Sometimes it was slim pickings for a while.
We were Vultures, after all.
Always picking off the remains.
Sometimes, you had to learn to deal with an empty stomach for a while. But it was still easier than trying to set up something from scratch every time.
"Good. That's good. You know what I'm thinking? A smart leader might look at all of this," he said, waving his beer around at the room, "and see a lot of potential."
"Yes," I said, taking a swig of my drink. "A smart leader would do just that," I agreed. "They might even have a whole plan in the works."
"Without the unwanted input of twenty-something half-drunk men."
"Exactly," I agreed.
"That's good. You're doing good," he told me. "I know no one tells you that, and how important it is to hear it once in a while."
"I appreciate it," I said, feeling the uncharacteristic sting at the back of my eyes. I mean, I wasn't a robot. I cried. But I did it in private and silence, making sure there were never any traces of it afterward. That said, crying had always come after a lot of pain or frustration.
But hearing Grandpa give me some praise after the hardest phase in my life where I'd suffered, by necessity, in silence? Yeah, it was making me feel a little sappy.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," I grumbled as Ransom reached out, grabbed Shanny, and dropped her down on her knees between his thighs.
Sure, public blowjobs were nothing new around the clubhouse, but they weren't exactly my favorite thing to witness either. Especially because I knew, eventually, Shanny would move on down the line to suck off several of the guys. How she didn't get lockjaw was completely beyond me.
"You heading out?" Grandpa asked, knowing the routine. I was always down for a party. But the orgy-type situations were where I tapped out. I mean, how could you still look your men in the eye after you knew what kinds of faces they made when they orgasmed?
I couldn't.
So I didn't put myself in those situations.
"Yeah," I said, nodding.
"Chaz's?"
"Only thing open this late unless I want to wander the aisles of Walmart again." Which I didn't.
"Be safe."
"Will do," I agreed, giving him a smile before heading out the door.
The stickiest part of summer was behind us. And good riddance. The temps were still spiking during the day, but the nights were taking on that slight coolness that hinted at fall weather. And I was ready for it. I secretly had an affinity for pumpkin spice flavoring in my coffee, even if I refused to admit that to my men. I was ready for jackets and crunchy leaves and comfort foods after a gruelingly hot summer where we lost power four times.
I don't know if you've ever spent time with twenty-something sweaty men and no air conditioning. But I have. And let me tell you, as bad as you might be imagining it to be, it was worse. Infinitely worse. I sometimes still feel like I can smell those days and nights, and get immediately queasy.
Deciding to take advantage of the nice weather, I left my bike parked in the back lot, and took off on foot instead.
Word was, this was the shitty side of town.
When we'd moved in, it had been controlled by a ragtag group that had the audacity to call itself a gang, despite barely-there central leadership and more of its members getting locked up than on the streets at any given time.
We'd unintentionally had a hand in the decimation of that particular gang, but by the looks of random groups hanging on street corners and front stoops, it wouldn't be long until someone else flexed hard enough to actually create another criminal empire.
That said, I wasn't the kind of woman who spooked easily.
It wasn't that I was immune from fear of assault, especially of the sexual variety, but I never went anywhere without at least half a dozen weapons stashed somewhere on my person.
Besides, when we'd finally been ready to show ourselves to the area, we made it very clear that I was the president, and to fuck with me, it meant you fucked with the whole club.
Most of the men around the area were afraid to even look at me for too long.
Still, I was on high alert as I walked, double-checking shadows and pausing at strange noises.