Page 39 of Papa's Beloved
Papa
Pablo sang like a canary after we promised him a quick, clean death before the gators got him. We could dispose of his body some other way. But that’s why we have the gator grate. Blood that gets spilled drips into the water below. Which draws the gators.
If we’re feeding them someone still living, the prospects chum the water first to get the gators attention. The next day a few of us with diving skills go check for remains. We travel in teams of four or five with weapons. We also chum several hundred yards up the shoreline away from where we’re searching.
The prospects are nearly finished cleaning up when the outer door to the Woodshed opens. Gambit and I hustle through the anteroom into the main room. What looks like the only room since the doors to the anteroom and beyond are hidden.
It’s Chief and Trinity with some guy we don’t know. He’s my height with dark blonde hair. Chief greets us.
“Good to see you boys.”
“Chief,” I say.
“Pops,” Gambit says.
“Did we miss all the fun?” Trinity asks.
“It’s all over but the cleanup and hopefully food.”
“The women are cooking up a storm. Smells so good we almost stayed,” Chief says. “I have someone I want you to meet.”
“Son, Papa, this is Hollywood. He belongs to a club out West. Due to recent circumstances, which I’ll let him tell you, hemoved to New Orleans. His old President is a friend of mine and asked us to make him a fully patched member of the Kings. He prefers New Orleans to Baton Rouge.”
Gambit takes in what his dad says and nods.
“If your friend trusts him, so do we. We’re having church after food. Hollywood, you can fill us in and meet everyone.”
Gambit holds out his hand. “Welcome on board, brother. After church will get you settled into an empty apartment.”
“Do you have a two or three bedroom? I have two cubs.”
“My old apartment is a two bedroom with a den. The den has its own bath. It’s on the top floor of the clubhouse. If you don’t mind bunking on the same floor with me,” I say with a smile.
He returns the smile. “I appreciate it.”
“Let’s eat,” Gambit says.
A murmur of agreement makes the rounds and we all head out to our sleds. The protective gear we had over our clothes is currently burning in the incinerator. We have a big old incinerator. It came with the original hotel and when Chief bought it back in the day. He left it.
The hotel remained untouched until we bought it and turned it into the new clubhouse. Chief and the mother chapter are in Baton Rouge. Chief bought the property for Gambit’s mama, who fell in love with it and New Orleans. When she died less than two years later, he left the property to sit but didn’t have the heart to sell it.
Stormy’s been slowly restoring the garden’s her husband’s mother loved so much. Gardens that Gambit planted for his mama during her chemo. He told me she’d come out and look at the flowers every day. Chief had the old owner’s suite redone, so Anna Marie could spend her last days in the place she loved the most.
The drive to the clubhouse didn’t take long. As I enter the lobby, the smell of fried food hits my senses, making mystomach rumble. I hurry to the kitchen. Chief said the ladies are there. Nay is sitting on a stool near the stove stirring a pot of what looks like greens. I take a deep breath. Smells like greens too.
Her back is turned to me. I cross the floor quietly and wrap my arms around her. She stiffens for a second, then relaxes.
“No one else is going to hold you like this, Beloved. I’d kill them first.”
She laughs. “You’re cute when you’re possessive.”
“Get used to it. You’re mine now, Chardonnay Danvers.”
She turns around and stands on her tiptoes. Her left eye is nearly swollen shut. I kiss her tenderly, but with passion.
“Does it hurt?”
“Edibles and your tea have dimmed the pain to a dull roar.”