MC Chronicles: The Diary of Bink Cummings: Vol 2: (Motorcycle Club Romance Novel) (34 page)

The man sees me, stops talking to the woman, gives me
a once over, and then his once friendly face turns predatory.
Dammit.

“Can I help you?” he asks, striding over to me like
his shit don’t stink.

Motherfucker.
Not
another cocky ass, newbie biker. I really think Big needs to run a class on how
to act, and the way this man’s eyes travel my body is not the appropriate way.
It makes me shiver with revulsion.

“Yeah,” I state, bent in half, using both hands to
stabilize a wobbly, close to passing out, frail man, who’s mumbling to himself.
All the while my ass sticks straight out and my head’s turned to the side,
glancing over my shoulder at this cocky SOB.

“I need you to stop fuckin’ lookin’
at me like a damn piece of meat, and go find Big Dick,” I command, using my
badass biker bitch voice.

“Now why would I do that?” his eyes
travel down my legs and glue to my ass, his voice smooth as silk.

“Because!” I snap, on the verge of
seeing red. “I’m his old lady, and I need him.”

Okay, my first mistake is that I’ve
just claimed myself aloud to a fellow Sacred Sinners brother. Now, if you don’t
tell Big, I sure as hell won’t. My second mistake is telling this man, whose
name is Hammer, according to his name patch, that I’m his president’s old lady,
and I’m not wearing a property cut at an official party. All the other old
ladies here are wearing their cuts.

By the way he smirks, he thinks I’m
both cute and full of shit, and he doesn’t know any different because he’s new.
Maybe I should start rethinking this whole old lady business.

“Listen,” I start and am cut off,
just as the man in front of me lumps forward. I catch him before he falls to
the ground.

I’m afraid to lay him down because I
won’t be able to get him back up, and I don’t want him puking and inhaling his
vomit or having some kind of medical problem. He’s so old. He’s like a damn
dinosaur, which means he probably has a butt load of medical problems. It
doesn’t help that he kind of reminds me of Larry, and I wouldn’t want someone
leaving Larry by himself. I need Big or Gunz or someone other than this Hammer
guy, who’s a waste of flesh.

“Jonesy,” I speak to the old man.
“Jonesy, are you alright? Do you need me to call a doctor?”

He mumbles something in retort, but I
can’t make it out. It’s too loud in here, and he’s too drunk.

I look to Hammer again, only to see
that he’s already left. Suddenly the music is cut off, and the room goes quiet.

“Where the fuck is Bink?” Big’s voice
booms.

Dear God, thank you!

“I’m back here in the corner!” I yell
as loud as I can.

“Which corner?” Big replies, a sound
of relief etched in his voice. I have a fleeting thought that Big was worried I
might have skipped town again.

“She’s over here,” a gruff manly
voice says.

I hear a bunch of mumbling people, feet moving, boots scuffing, and finally feel a sense of relief when his deep voice sighs. “There you are,” as he strides the last few feet to me.

I glance over to him, both of my
hands still holding on to Jonesy’s upper arms for dear life. This isn’t the
most comfortable position to be in, especially when you have big boobs and a
big belly to help weigh you down.

“What are you doing?” Big kneels
beside me.

I look to him and back to Jonesy,
whose eyes are now closed, head slumped forward, pale as a ghost. He looks
dead. I shake him a bit, and he sucks in a breath. Okay, not dead.

“He bumped into me drunk, so I led
him over here to rest. I was afraid to leave him, and I tried to get help but a
brother wouldn’t help me when I told him to get you. I’m not in a cut. Jonesy’s
got to at least be in his seventies, and he’s drunk,” I explain to Big as fast
as I can using all my air and then suck in a breath. He smiles at me. I mean
really smiles. This is not a time to smile like that. So I frown, furrowing my
brow at him.

“Don’t smile at me like that,” I
chastise.

Big keeps on smiling, then says, “I
know Jonesy. He’s gotta be in his eighties. Occasionally he rides in with some
of the other brothers for a good ol’ time. Didn’t know he was still kickin’.
It’s been ten years since I last saw him, and he was an old man then.”

“Eighty-nine,” Jonesy mumbles,
splattering spittle over his jean covered legs.

“What?” I whisper to him, keeping my
hands planted on his biceps.

“I’m eighty-nine,” he repeats louder
and looks up with some major effort. Then he softly smiles, showing a mouthful
of false teeth, and shifts his eyes to Big. “Hey Big,” he inhales deeply.
“You’re getting old, boy,” Jonesy teases.

“So are you,” Big kids right back,
returning a smirk.

Jonesy makes a raspy
tsking
noise and shakes his head slowly.
“Boy, I’m in my prime. I’m about to be ninety in two weeks, and I’ve still got
it.” He ratchets his head to look at me, “Don’t I, beautiful?” His wrinkled
smile grows wider, all the way up to his heavily aged eyes. He’s adorable.

I can’t help it; I smile right back,
“Yep, Jonesy, you’re givin’ Big a run for his money.”

“I knew it,” he jokes
enthusiastically, or what I would call enthusiastically, considering he’s
drunk, old, and on the verge of passing out. Lightheartedly, I laugh in return.

“Jonesy, where’s Beth?” Big asks,
apparently knowing a helluva lot more about Jonesy then I thought.

“She’s at home,” he mumbles, as his
cataract fogged eyes glitter with amusement. This man is a naughty one.

“How’d you get here?” I ask, looking
to Jonesy.

“A car,” he says, and his head drops
again, chin to his chest.

I glance back over to Big. He’s on
the phone. “Yeah, he’s here,” I hear him say. “I didn’t know he stole your car.
He’s drunk. We’ll keep an eye on him until you get here,” he pauses to listen to
the person on the other end of the line. “No problem,” he says, ending the
call and shoving his phone back into his jeans pocket.

Big pulls my hand off Jonesy’s arm
and helps me lay him down on his side to rest. I open my mouth to protest
because I don’t want anything to happen to the poor man, but Big’s look of
determination and authority shuts me right up.

I slide onto the floor exhausted, my
back to the couch. Big drops down beside me; the chain on his wallet making a
loud noise smacking the hard floor. Big lays his hand in my lap. Threading my
fingers through his, we hold hands, and I lean over, resting my head on his cut
clad shoulder and sigh.

“Beth’s his granddaughter,” Big
explains, “who takes care of him.”

“Okay,” I reply.

“She didn’t know he was here. Seems
as though he snuck out. Brew apparently sent a wedding invite to them not
thinkin’ about it. Beth and he argued about him comin’,” Big tilts his head
back, gesturing to Jonesy, “And this old man is biker, through and through, so
he ain’t gonna listen to his granddaughter, even though he should. She’ll be
here in a bit to pick him up and take him home,” Big says, then turns his head
and kisses my forehead. “You did good, Sugar Tits. Just like I thought, you’re
already turnin’ out to be the best old lady a club president could ask for.”

Don’t ask me why, but this makes me blush and go
instantly shy. Maybe it’s because it’s his sweetness or because that is the
biggest compliment I’ve ever gotten. I can’t be sure which. I just know how it
makes me feel, and it makes my heart sputter in my chest.

We sit on the floor with the room
back in full swing without music. Some of the brothers make their way over to
make sure we’re okay, which we are. Big orders Runner to make sure Beth gets
through the gate before he asks me about Hammer. I’m honest and tell him the
whole story. This makes him mad, like I knew it would.

“Time to clear this up now,” Big
stands up from the floor, clearly pissed off.

I grab onto his pant leg to stop him.
It doesn’t work, and he offers me his hand. I smack it away. “Stop, don’t do
this now,” I order, and like I thought, it does me no good. The behemoth
control freak isn’t going to listen to me.

“Listen up!” Big yells standing
beside me, his worn Harley boots touching my sock covered feet. “Hey!” he
booms, louder.

The club goes silent.

“We’ve gotta problem here,” Big
announces and looks down at me glaring up at him. He smiles and offers his hand
to me once more. This time I take it, and he pulls me to my feet, instantly
curling me half in front of him, one hand on my hip, the other on my belly.

He kisses my hair before continuing. “We’ve got a brother here who doesn’t know who my old lady is. If you don’t
know who I’m talkin’ about, then ya better listen up because I’m only gonna say
this one fuckin’ time. My woman -- she’s blonde, big boobed, gorgeous, and goes
by the name Bink. Oh yeah, she’s pregnant, carryin’ my daughter,” he rubs my
belly with affection and kisses my head again. “And she’s not wearin’ a cut
because she don’t need to. Most of ya know who I’m talkin’ about, and for those
who don’t, you best remember. If I hear any of ya disrespectin’ her or not
listenin’ to her like a brother did tonight, you’ll have
me
to answer to. And I
won’t
be nice,” Big finishes and nearly
everyone in the room starts to look around for the man Big’s talking about.

I’m relieved he didn’t call Hammer out; that was decent of him. God knows calling out Hammer’s name will put Gunz on a murdering spree.

Speak of the devil. “Yeah and that
goes for me too. Don’t fuck with our girl,” Gunz retorts.

“Yup, that’s my sister,” I hear Brew
say.

“And my daughter,” Daddy adds.

These damn men and their over protectiveness.

The club remains silent, as if they are waiting for
Big to announce they can speak again, which speaks volumes about the respect
they show him. This is one of the main reasons I love being a part of this
giant biker family.

“Alright, now that’s settled, carry on,” Big orders,
and the room erupts in chatter.

Big turns me around, my belly brushing against his
belt buckle. His arms loosely envelop my shoulders, as my arms wrap around his
middle, my chin on his chest, glancing up at his face.

“See, I can be nice,” he expresses with a cocky smile,
bouncing his eyebrows. Wispy pieces of his hair fall around his face from his
loose man bun.

“Was that your way of givin’ a brother a pass and at
the same time letting the whole damn room know you’ve claimed me?” I perk up a
brow, trying not to smile. “You do know that I have not agreed to be your old
lady,” I add for measure. I realize this is a losing battle.

He shakes his head, amused. “Yeah, I know, but you’re
still mine, and you’ll agree to be my old lady soon enough. They still gotta
know who’s who.”

“People already know I’m off limits.” Everyone has
known this since the dawn of time. It isn’t some secret.

“Hell yeah they do, and now they know why.”

Sheesh, there is no getting through to this man. I’m
royally screwed.

Fifteen minutes later, Beth, a
beautiful, leggy brunette, shows up, following Runner inside.

Stopping next to her grandpa passed
out on the couch, she shakes her head. Runner and Big help carry a passed out
Jonesy outside to Beth’s other car. I follow them out.

“I’m sorry,” Beth apologizes to me,
standing outside her Ford Focus, shaking her head, clearly worried out of her
mind, while we watch Big and Runner tuck Jonesy into the backseat.

I place my hand on her shoulder.
“It’s not a problem. If you ever need any help with him, call the clubhouse and
ask for Bink.”

Then for no apparent reason, she hugs
me. So I don’t seem like a bitch, I hug her back.

“Thank you,” she says, sounding like
she’s on the verge of crying.

“It’s okay,” I pat her back and release
from our hug.

She goes to her car.

Runner says something to her before
he shuts her in. Big claps Runner on the shoulder and heads towards me. Runner
heads in the opposite direction of us, jogging around the building just as Beth
starts to pull out of the compound.

“Runner’s gonna follow ‘em home and
make sure she gets him safely inside,” Big explains, cuffing his arm around my
neck and pulling me into a hug. His lips press to my hair.

I wrap my arms around his torso,
stuff my nose to his chest, and take a deep breath, relishing in the comforting
scent of Big. My body goes lax in his arms, and I smile, feeling fully myself
for the first time in a very long time. It’s great to be home.

Minutes pass as we embrace, before
the sound of screeching tires coming to an abrupt halt yanks me out of my Big’s
bundle of love.

Big’s body suddenly goes rigid in my
arms, as a car door opens and the sound of heels rapidly click-click-click on
the blacktop.
Shit
, this isn’t
good.

“Bi—,” I open my mouth, only to be cut
off when the dreaded sound of my mother’s voice cuts through the air, making me
want to vomit.