Death Lords Motorcycle Club: Annie, Michigan, and Easy (The Motorcycle Clubs Series) Read Online Free Page B

means no other Death Lords can approach you.”
    “And if I don’t?” I can’t take my eyes off the leather.
    She shrugs. “I don’t know. No one I know has ever got one, but I’ve seen them around. I heard one girl say it means you can go to another club and no one will touch you because they’re afraid of getting beat up by the Death Lords. Basically it’s hellagood. If you don’t want it, I’ll take it.”
    My fingers curl around it as if trying to hide it from Tricia’s acquisitive gleam. “I didn’t realize it was transferable.”
    “Probably not, but it’d give me an in. I’ve been trying to get into a Death Lords mash for a few years now. They’re pretty strict on the no high school rule but I graduated in May. They can’t keep me out for much longer.”
    The look of determination on her face convinces me. She’ll be in the Death Lords club some day. How it turns out for her, though, I’m not sure because I don’t know what she’s looking for there. I don’t know what she’ll find there.
    Those are the questions that swirl in my own head and so I don’t put on the wrist cuff. I tuck it into my pocket and deliver the water to the ladies. They all quiet as I approach and I know they’ve watched the whole scene. Probably everyone in the shop has and my mind flips from Easy and his curious use of “we” as in what “we have to offer” and what kind of story I’m going to have to cook up for Father when he catches wind of this.
    Mrs. Wilkins tugs me down next to her and hands me my poor knitting attempt. We knit for a while—or Mrs. Wilkins knits while I wrestle with the yarn and needles.
    “My grandson Van joined the Marines out of high school. We worried, as all families do, but he came back sunny as ever. He brought Michigan with him. Michigan has no family, you know.”
    “I didn’t know,” I admit.
    She nods. “Raised by foster families. He’s Van’s family now. They’re different but I love them both. They’re good boys. I know some don’t like that club they associate with but it’s not about the women or the liquor. It’s about belonging, no different than what we’re doing here.” She waves a hand toward the other ladies who merely nod. Apparently for all the gossip about the club, they don’t appear to disapprove of it. “People congregating together with common interests has always been a thing. Doesn’t make them wrong for doing it. ‘And now these three remain: faith, hope and love. But the greatest of these is love.’ ”
    “First Corinthians,” I respond automatically.
    “That’s right, dear.” Mrs. Wilkins shifts away and engages Mrs. C in some talk about the newly released Nora Roberts book while the claiming cuff burns a hole in my pocket. There’s an opportunity for something magical to happen and it’s there for me to try if I have even an ounce of courage to reach forward.

Chapter Four
    Annie
    I don’t have to think up a fake story for Father. He never mentions an encounter between me and a Death Lord at the Brew Ha Ha and I certainly don’t bring it up. On Monday after a successful Sunday service and lunch with the organist’s family, he reminds me he’s going to Minneapolis for the next three days for a planning meeting. He’s helping to put together “Getting Closer with Your Pastor”, an interdenominational conference for Midwest preachers.
    As if I could forget. The cuff hidden in the bottom drawer of my dresser calls to me like the heart in Poe’s story and the fact that Father’s going to be gone has made it pulse even louder.
    “Will there be Wednesday night service?”
    “Yes, the Gardeners will handle it. Just print up the bulletin. Have you recorded the tithe money?”
    “Yes, and taken it to the bank.”
    “What about the bills this month?”
    “Already taken care of.” Father keeps his expenses down by hiring me. He pays me a wage, of course, for serving as his secretary and keeping the church books. I admit I