Page 87 of Savior
A Few Weeks Later
The last time we took a weekend trip down to Myrtle Beach, I watched Dean fight in a caged death match. Fortunately, this trip has nothing to do with crushed throats and bloody knuckles. It’s to celebrate the establishment of a second Charter under the Saviors MC.
“I’m already jealous of this club house.” I say, unclasping my helmet once we’ve dismounted Dean’s motorcycle.
“Ouch.” Dean says, and I’m not sure if he’s feigning insult, or not, yet. “This place is a fraction of the size our place is.” He hooks his helmet on the handlebars, then holds his hand out for mine. I give it back to him so he can tuck it in the side bag, then gesture across the street.
“The Ocean is literally walking distance, that way! I can practically hear the waves from the parking lot. We didn’t even need to ride here from the ocean front hotel, we could have walked.”
“MC stands for Motorcycle Club, Vanna… In case you haven’t put that together yet.” Viking says, dismounting his bike next to us.
The parking lot is only big enough to accommodate maybe twenty-five bikes, and the club house itself looks like a little brick beach shack. Probably the size of the Twisted Throttle alone, without all of the rooms, gym, kitchen, and war room attached.
“And you,” Viking says to Dean, halfheartedly shoving him as he walks by towards the club, “You should be happy she isn’t impressed by size and can appreciate the little things.”
My mouth gapes open and I quickly cover it with my hand, trying not to laugh. The ball breaking never ends between these two.
Dean shakes his head at Viking, who is walking a little faster now towards the club door, as if Dean might jump him.
“I don’t know how many times I need to remind you, but I’ve never gotten any complaints in the dick department, asshole!” Dean calls after him before he turns back to look at me. “I told you, I’d never hear the end of it.”
“I’m very sorry.” I try to say without smiling, but fail miserably.
“No you’re not. But I forgive you.” He slings an arm around my shoulders, escorting me towards the club house. “Come on, doll. It’s time you met our Southern brothers.”
The main part of the club house is set up like a bar, very similar to the Twisted Throttle. A pool table and Juke Box in the back, a few tables and chairs, and some couches along the wall. There’s a bathroom just beyond the corridor, and a hall that leads to a room where they hold church, and three little dorm sized rooms with beds. The back wall of the club is all brick, like ours, though where our Charter has a huge American Flag, this one has a large painted Saviors MC logo in white, with a black light shining down on it, making it really jump out.
“That’s badass. I’m so doing that in the Twisted Throttle when we get back.” Axel announces.
Dean introduces me to all of the patched members, some of whom I recognize from the Twisted Throttle. They’re all far more polite than the Jokers had been, as far as the way they look at me. It’s definitely a more respectful vibe. When the patched members disappear for a while to have their meeting, I’m left with this Charter’s First Lady. A woman named Tessa, who happens to be a curvy girl, like me, with long black hair as well, dressed in jeans and a leather cut of her own. Her cut declares that she’s Property of Torque.
We spend the next thirty minutes chit-chatting at the bar, while I sip on a ginger-ale with ice, waiting for Dean.
“It’s so good to see Cherry and Dean happy.” Tessa says, shooting her shot of Jack Daniels and chasing it with a swig of beer. “God knows they both deserve it.”
I look at her curiously. I’m well aware of Dean’s turbulent past with Lucinda, but I know virtually nothing of Cherry’s past, before the MC. I don’t want to ask this woman I just met tonight. Though, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t curious as to what she meant by that statement.
“You and Axel, you’re both perfect for them. It never would have worked between Cherry and Dean.” She goes on.
Cherry and Dean?
My heart sinks to my stomach for a brief moment as my mind automatically does the math on Cherry and Dean… They are close, but, there’s no way they were ever, Cherry and Dean.
“Wasn’t Cherry a minor when she and Dean met?” I manage to ask, hoping to sound casual and unbothered by the sudden turn this conversation took.
“Oh, it wasn’t like that!” Tessa exclaims, wide eyed and waving her hand back and forth quickly. “Dean would never. He loved her. Still does. But not like that.”
“Are you saying Cherry was the one that had feelings for Dean?”
“A teenaged girl with a crush. Can you honestly blame her? I mean, you landed him. You get to bed that fine specimen of a man every night. You know exactly why he’s so lusted after.” She chuckles. “If you think just because he put his patch on your back and his bun in your oven, that other women aren’t still panting over him, think again, sweetheart.” Tessa shoots her other shot, and I almost wish I could have one, too.
I force myself to sip on my ginger-ale. Cherry’s words about loving Dean, at the forefront of my mind. They’ve always been so close. I noticed their connection since the beginning of our relationship. The way they are able to communicate with each other, with only a look at times.
“Vanna,” Tessa’s voice pulls me back to the present. “That’s the past. Cherry and Axel are solid. And Dean is madly in love with you. Don’t look so worried.”
“I look worried?”
“Or constipated.” She teases. “I hear that’s a common side effect of pregnancy.”
