Page 59 of Rags's Awakening
“Four,” Rock said, and the group burst out laughing.
“They’ll just go back and make more,” Shadow said.
“That’s something we need to talk about at church. For now, let’s get cleaned up and head back to the festival. Elmer said we can use his house to wash up.” Hawk looked at Rags. “You, Throttle, and Chas head back to the clubhouse.”
“I’ve got my cage. Jack can take Addie and Hope home,” Chas said.
Hawk nodded. “You, Throttle, and Rags can store your bikes in one of Elmer’s garages. One of the brothers can drive you back later tonight or tomorrow to pick them up.”
“You guys gonna party tonight after the festival?” Puck asked.
The Insurgents with old ladies shook their heads, but Razor and Tank grinned.
“We deserve some fun after this workout,” Razor said.
Hawk laughed. “We all earned some prime pussy tonight. I got my old lady to keep me good. Have fun.” Then his expression hardened. “If those assholes come back, you let me and Banger know right away. We’ll make sure they never come around again.”
The brothers nodded, and the battle-weary Insurgents trudged toward Elmer’s ranch house.
***
Chas placed theempty shot glass on the bar next to Throttle’s. “You want us to take you back to the ranch?” He glanced at the wall clock. “The after-party’s in full swing by now.”
Rags shook his head. “Nah, I’m gonna party with a bottle of Jack and kick back here.” His fingers drifted to the bandage over Doc’s stitching. “This shit hurts like a motherfucker.”
Throttle let out a low laugh. “The Devil’s assholes are hurting a helluva lot worse than we are, dude.”
“That’s what’s making all this”—Rags tapped his brow, wincing—“worth it.” He grinned, then sucked in a breath as a sharp spike of pain shot through his ribs.
Chas clapped a hand on Rags’s shoulder. “I gotta go, bro. Get some rest.”
“I’ll be fine.”
“You always say that. We all do,” Throttle said.
Chas and Rags chuckled.
“I’ll check on you tomorrow. Kimber and me will swing by to get your bruised ass so we can pick up our Harleys from Elmer’s.”
Rags nodded. “Sounds good.”
They bumped fists and headed across the main room, walking out into the cold mountain air. Rags poured one more shot and threw it back, feeling the burn slide to the pit of his stomach.
Two older members, Buffalo and Inky, sat on the couch watching a woman giving head on the big screen TV. Rags glanced at the screen, then pushed off the barstool. Grabbing the whiskey bottle, he headed to his room.
He shut the door behind him, blocking out the porn actors’ moaning, and switched on the lamp. A soft amber glow filtered around the room as he trudged to the armchair by the window. Silence settled around him, broken only by the hum of the furnace and the muted noises drifting from the ranch.
Rags nudged the chair to face the window, slumped into it, took a long pull from the bottle, and stared out. The towering mountains loomed dark against the sky. The occasional headlights from a car on the two-lane highway shone like lighthouse beacons in the growing darkness.
I should’ve gone to the after-party.He’d normally be drowning the night in booze and pussy right about now. Sighing, he reached into his cut and pulled out a joint then lit it; the glowing tip reflected off the glass pane like a pinprick of light. Rags took a deep drag and blew out a slow stream of smoke, then doubled over coughing as his ribs lit up in pain. “Fuck,” he hissed.
He leaned back, smoke floating around him, and looked at the darkness again. Thoughts of Casey slipped into his mind. It surprised the hell out of him that he sought her out at the festival. That morning, he kept scoping the entrance, hoping she’d show. When she didn’t, he’d been pissed at himself for acting like a damn pansy. He didn’t chase women; they chased him. So, he forgot about her… until he saw her standing by a jewelry booth. Her unruly hair caught the autumn light, that knit top hugging her tits just right, and her blue jeans fit her like a second skin, molding around all her curves in the best way.Damn.He shifted in the chair and took another slug of Jack.
He pretended not to notice her, but from the corner of his eye, he saw her searching for him, a pretty pink flush creeping up her neck when she’d spotted him. Then when he looked at her, she darted her eyes away, only to bring them back. He’d been hooked from that second.
Then he did what he hadn’t done since Julie. He pursued Casey. He told his brothers some lame excuse about needing to check something out, then followed her. He caught sight of her swaying those sweet hips, and a bolt of heat punched him. Hard. At the memory of it, he sucked in a deep breath, then exhaled raggedly, his hand pressing against his ribs.
Another long drink of Jack.
