I eye all of them. Another young guy is here, around my age, and his patch says One. What kind of name is that?
“You like it?” I ask him.
“Love it. Makes me feel like I’m a part of something bigger,” One replies.
A part of something bigger.
That’s what I need.
“Alright. Sure.”
“Give me your number, Whistler,” Prez says.
“It’s Wesley,” I correct him and hand him my phone.
“Not anymore.”
I doubt the name Whistler will grow on me, but maybe this new path will.
Present Day
Getting Mercy to warm up to the idea of being the Prez of the Ruthless Hellhounds has been tricky. He agreed, but we haven’t seen him since. Demon’s Fury dissolved after the President’s ol’ lady died, and we didn’t have a name to us.
Considering Mercy was undercover with the Hellhounds for so long, I came up with the idea to create Ruthless Hellhounds since the Ruthless Kings help us out so much.
Mercy was all about it and completely on board, and now I can’t get him to answer my calls.
There’s only one way to figure out why.
Annoy him.
I’m long past the point of giving a fuck about pissing people off. When I want answers, I want them. I’m not going to wait and beat around the bush. I have men who are depending on me. Don’t get me wrong, I can lead, but I don’t want to.
I’m more of a take-action type of fella than I am a logical thinker. After all, I killed my first man on impulse when I was eighteen and haven’t regretted it since.
Right now, we’re staying down the road from Mercy’s new bar at a motel that has seen better days. We used to have a rundown clubhouse on the outskirts of town near the dam because the old Prez had said he wanted to buy something nicer when his ol’ lady got better. The whole reason we even moved to Vegas was for her health. Well, she didn’t get better and the day she died, he killed himself there. We didn’t want to stay there anymore and moved to this piece of shit motel.
So it’s been rough for us. We are healing and trying to move on, but Prez was a good man. He was the one that gave me this life, and I couldn’t be more thankful. I have a little cash saved, so do the rest of the guys, and we are on the lookout for a place with enough acres that we can build as the Kings did.
My phone rings and I look down to see Taylor is calling me. She’s still a fucking mess. I love her to death, but I’m worried one day I’m going to find her in a ditch because she went and ‘fell’ in the love with the wrong man.
Again.
I mute it because I’m a shitty brother and don’t feel like dealing with her problems right now and tuck my phone in my pocket. I have my own issues and she’s just calling to ask for more money to bail her new boyfriend out of jail. She’s been asking for two thousand dollars for two weeks and won’t take no for an answer. The only thing I can do now is ignore her until I have the patience to deal with her. It sounds terrible, but it is what it is.
I tuck my baseball bat in the holster behind my back that One made me and grab my wallet from the side table. A cockroach scurries along the floor and I smash it with my boot. There’s a stack of napkins from last night’s take-out and I use a few to clean the guts off the floor.
Fucking nasty. I hate this motel. No one wanted to spring for a good hotel. Everyone thought it was important not to do anything without Prez’s approval.
Mercy.
Well, he is going to be in for a rude awakening when we show up there looking for answers. I need to know if we are hitting the road or what.
I unlock the door just in time to see One standing there with his fist raised and ready to knock. “Hey, man,” I greet him, slamming the door in place so I know it’s shut.
“Today is the day, right?”
I blow out a breath and head to my Harley where a few of the other guys are waiting for me. “Yeah, today is the day. And seriously, after tonight, we aren’t staying here anymore. I’m technically in charge until Mercy gets off his ass. I killed another cockroach and I’m telling you, I showered with a spider this morning. Its eight legs had eight tiny loofahs and she was scrubbing her body clean in preparation to kill me.” I shiver when I think about the big brown beast that was next to my shampoo bottle.
She watched me the entire time.
And then right before I turned off the water, I tossed a handful of water at her. Well, I think it was a she. The way she looked at me was with ‘kill me’ eyes is how women look at you when they are pissed.
“You’re so dramatic.” One rolls his eyes. “They don’t even make loofahs that small.”
I mount my bike and a few guys chuckle, and I’m not sure if it’s at me or at One. “That’s what you got from that? The loofahs? No shit they don’t make them that size.”
“You said it, not me,” One says in defense, starting up his own bike.
“Okay, ladies, that’s enough. I’m sure the itsy bitsy little spider was going to leave you alone,” I.E.D jokes.
“I’m sure that spider could give Halfpint a run for his money,” I throw the words over my shoulder to our shortest member.
“Hey, fuck you. I could take on any fucking spider,” he retorts. His New York accent is thick and full of attitude which just makes it funnier since he’s so damn short. “That spider ain’t got nothing on me. Let me at him.” He holds up his fists and shuffles his feet, dancing as a boxer would.
“Okay, Mohammad Ali. Let’s get ready to go.” Tutu guides Halfpint’s fists down and hops on his bike, letting the engine grumble alongside mine and One’s.
“Fuck you, Tutu.” Halfpint shoots him the middle finger.
“Let’s play nice, guys. I don’t like it when Mom and Dad fight.” Princess wraps his arm around Halfpint and Halfpint shrugs out from under him.
“Hey, don’t touch me with your pretty fingers. I don’t want that shit on me.” Halfpint runs his fingers through his hair and down his cut. “Fuck, do I have flawless skin now? I don’t want flawless skin.”
“Wouldn’t want you to look like a doll, would we?” Princess swings his leg over his bike and chuckles deep at his own joke.
“Ah, another fucking short joke. I’m going to cut all that pretty hair off your head in your sleep.” Halfpint finally gets on his bike and I’m in damn stitches listening to them. Halfpint’s accent is the cherry on top.
“Fucking touch my hair and I’ll halve those pathetic things you call legs.” Princess kicks Halfpint in the leg.
I groan and hang my head because Halfpint hops off his bike and launches himself at Princess, who grunts at the initial contact. His laugh echoes in the parking lot. Damn short fella doesn’t stand a chance. Princess didn’t even budge off his bike.
We are never going to get out of here at this rate.
Halfpint tries to wrestle Princess off his bike but Princess screams with laughter, “Help, help! I’ve got a spider monkey on me.”
Which causes another chain reaction.
Socks spits out his water.
Zip-tie actually stops stuffing his bag with zip-ties.
Birdie snickers while the hawk on his shoulder chirps, which I think is also in laughter.