Well now. It’s Wednesdeay again and time for more words. I have some. Yay! Today’s theme is FRIENDS. I was not a fan of the show but when you have friends in low places, it’s all good. Today’s very rough, first draft offering comes from Wiz’s POV. The road to a HEA between he and Geneva is not very smooth. There’s him. And her. And all their issues. And then there’s all the MC stuff going down. Luckily, the old ladies are looking after Gen. I think you might be able to figure out what’s going on…
I pushed the kitchen door open and it slammed against the wall. I wasn’t pissed. Much. The noise in the clubroom behind me didn’t cover up the door’s bang. The two women standing next to the stove stared at me, wide-eyed and pretending innocence. Inhaling deeply, I let my wolf’s senses sort through the various scents permeating the room.
“Oh, hi, Wiz.” Sam wiggled fingers in a gesture to match her voice. Easy’s old lady thought she was pulling one over on me. She cut her eyes to Shy, Gravedigger’s mate. She just rolled her eyes and glowered. Shy had been an MP in the Army. She didn’t put up with bullshit.
I sniffed again. There it was. A faint whiff of peaches, overridden by fake fresh air. I noticed the can of air freshener that Shy hadn’t quite managed to nudge behind her. Gen. She’d been here. And since these two were doing their best to cover that up, Gen had been standing in this kitchen recently. Fuck.
“Where is she?”
The old ladies exchanged looks again. Shy hooked her thumbs in her jeans and Sam crossed her arms over her chest.
“Don’t fuck with me, Sam.”
“You might be a bastard, Wizard, but Gen is still our friend so screw you.” Shy’s gaze narrowed and fuck if I didn’t actually see the light bulb go off in her eyes. “Wait. What’s really going on?”
“Club business.” The cold voice whipped through the room and we all jumped. Even me. I’d been so intent on the old ladies, the club prez had managed to sneak up even on me. That said, thank fuck for the Russian. Nobody argued with him.
Shy and Sam glowered at him. The Russian was covered in Teflon so their shit bounced off him and hit me. I jumped in before Russki did. “There is no Gen. Not on club property. She and me? We’re done. You wanna keep her—” I made my voice sound like I didn’t give a shit. “Go for it. But not around me or any of the other brothers.”
Sam’s eyes widened. “What are you saying, Wiz?”
“Speakin’ English here, Sam. Do I need to get Easy to explain the facts of club life to you? Again?”
Little bitch shot me the finger, not that I could blame her. One more look passed between the two of them and then they pushed past me—or tried, anyway. I didn’t move so Sam gave me a shove. I was laughing at her when Shy’s fist caught me in the jaw. Damn but that woman knew how to throw a punch.
“That’s for being a total prick.” Shy stared at the Russian. His expression never changed. “And someday, you cold-hearted bastard, you’ll get a taste of your own medicine and I’m gonna laugh at your sorry ass.”
Then they were gone, punching through the swinging door so that it slammed against the clubroom wall. The noise out there dwindled to silence and moments later, Gravedigger and Easy were standing framed in the door.
“What the hell, Wiz?” Easy grumbled. Digger just growled.
“Fuck off. All y’all.”
I went out the back door. My bike was parked by the Barracks. At the moment, I only wanted the freedom of the open road.
Not even the Russian could stop me. Not this time.
I ignored that order too, kick-starting my Harley, settling onto the seat and roaring off toward the front gate. Motherfucker better be open or I’d be ramming straight through it.
Yeah, I’d say Wiz is not in a good mood. That’s what happens when club business gets in the way of claiming a mate. 😉 What about y’all? Writers, any friendly words to share? Readers, which characters would you like to be friends with?