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Rebels had handed Gertie’s dad over
to Sachetti knowing they were just going to ice him. It was the
least the guy deserved; he’d run when his daughter was being beaten
and raped on a regular schedule by a bunch of bikers. Which he’d known because those pricks sent video proof. Fritter would
have killed the guy himself, but handing him over and turning down
the reward meant they had a lucrative contract with Don Sachetti,
and if they played this right it would add up to much more than a
one-time payment of a million bucks.
    Since then Gertie had somewhat of a little
sister status with the club. Other than Buck, they all viewed her
as someone to be protected and cared for. Plus, she’d busted out of
a biker clubhouse to save their president’s wife, so really she’d
earned their devotion from that as much as from being Buck’s old
lady.
    Fritter liked her. She had been a bit wild
for a while, but now she was sweet. And she was going to be a
mother, which was awesome. Her tits were getting bigger, and while
he worked hard not to appear as though he’d noticed them he had to
appreciate them. Her rack had always been awesome. He thought about
her inappropriately a few times before the baby announcement,
though now he fought those imaginings to the back of his mind. It
seemed extra seedy since her and Buck had officially gotten
hitched.
    Still, she was hot.
    Tiny’s rig was already gone from the lot so
he’d gotten a head start now that their load had been delivered.
With loud yawns and scratched heads they all approached their
bikes. In doing so Fritter knocked Mickey’s shoulder. “Sorry if I
kept you up.”
    Mickey shook his head. “You didn’t. I travel
with ear plugs now just so I can get some fucking sleep. You had
the two Chinese girls in there?”
    Fritter grinned. “Yeah, man. None of us spoke
any English for a while there.”
    “Yeah, I heard,” he muttered, shaking his
head.
    “Sorry, man.”
    “Don’t sweat it.”
    Fritter kept his comments to himself. The
number of times Mickey and Jolene could be heard in the clubhouse
enjoying some alone time with an enthusiastic third party numbered
in the hundreds, so Mickey taking real issue with loud sex would
have been hypocritical.
    Hell, Mickey going to bed alone was still a
stunner to Fritter. Yeah, the guy was married. And he’d been
married for a long time. It must have been his unusual arrangement
with his wife that kept him faithful to Jolene, even on the road.
Not a lot of women wanted to watch their men fucking other women,
but that was how the Graingers kept it fresh. So all the power to
them. Mickey was a good looking guy with charm that women really
responded to. Still, when Jolene wasn’t around his dick stayed in
his shorts. It was impressive.
    Actually, Jayce had been the same when Trinny
was in the picture. And Buck kept it tied in a knot for Gertie,
too. And Tank? Forget it. Fritter was impressed and saddened by the
state of men in, apparently, love. It made no sense, but
there it was all the same.
    The ride back to Markham was uneventful. It
wasn’t as sunny as it had been the day before. Instead the clouds
hung low and close, making the humidity uncomfortable. But at least
on the return trip they could just wear their kuttes without
hoodies.
    Kuttes and alliances and crime aside, this
was the real fucking reason for his enjoyment in the MC lifestyle.
Riding all day with his brothers and calling it his job;
perfection.
    His old man had apparently been in an MC, but
Ma never really discussed the man. Fritter suspected his mother had
been a random one-nighter, but Fritter hoped she was at least a
woman in his father’s Oklahoma port who warranted a regular visit.
He loved his mother but he didn’t have illusions of her sainthood.
She’d been a single mom raising him best she could, but she’d also
been a woman who wanted companionship. His long parade of “uncles”
who spent the night never bothered him as long as they were good