TRIP'S BABY: The Pride MC Page 7

  “You’re hiring me?!”

  “Girl, don’t you listen? I said preliminary. Come in seven sharp in the morn’ and I’ll start you on training. Don’t disappoint me.”

  I was ecstatic. So much so, I jumped up from my seat and hugged the woman across from me. She patted me on the back, obviously a little amused by my display of unplanned affection.

  “Alright, all right, girl. Go on, git. Seven sharp. Bring your brains with you, Lord knows Trixie ain’t got much, though she does bring in business in the men and such. Also—you gon’ stay here, don’t call me ma’am. It’s Big Mama, missy. You best be remembering that. Ya hear?”

  “I hear, ma—Big Mama. Again, thank you!”

  What had been a turmoil in my head was now a relief so deeply set in that I didn’t know what I was going to do with myself. So, I did the next best thing –

  I called up Trixie.

  I had gotten her number from Travis. Turns out he had a bit of a soft spot on her, but hadn’t stepped into anything because she was a club girl and he was afraid that she was always going to be a club girl. I’d convinced him that if I managed to get a job with her, then he would have to buck up and ask her on a proper date—for me.

  That was going to be negotiated the next time I saw him. I fished out a couple of quarters I wouldn’t need for the taxi ride back to Ace of Pride, and slotted them in the diner’s payphone. It was two rings before Trixie answered.

  “Big Mama, it’s my day off. You said you wouldn’t be calling me in anymore—”

  “Trixie? It’s not Big Mama. It’s me, Misha.”

  “Oh! Mi-mi, hey! What are you doin,’ calling from work?”

  “My interview was today,” I reminded her.

  “Oh! It was, wasn’t it? How’d it go? I hope Big Mama wasn’t too mean to you.”

  I laughed.

  “Don’t worry, she wasn’t. She hired me!”

  “No way!”

  “Yeah. It’s preliminary, so I can train, but it’s a guaranteed month and I’m sure I’ll be able to pull through enough that she’ll keep me on longer than that.”

  “Ah, hell, that’s awesome, Mi-mi.” She gasped. “We gotta celebrate!”

  “That’s what I was thinking. Wanna meet me out at the diner? We can get dinner, on me.”

  “You betcha. Though, let’s not eat at the diner. That old woman will have me stay a whole shift! Be right over. Oooh, we’re gonna be coworkers, I’m so excited!”

  Trixie’s squeals left me, and I couldn’t help but smile. People could say what they wanted about her being dumb as a sack of flour; I liked her—even if I did get the odd look here and there for it.

  I waited out front for Trixie to show up, and she didn’t disappoint when she pulled up in her hot pink bug. She’d apparently saved up for that baby, and it was her pride and joy as much as any of the bikes belonging to the boys of the Pride were. She hopped out, waving at me, wearing a hot pink dress that damn near matched.

  Well, no one could say that she didn’t know how to turn people’s heads, that was for sure.

  I bounded over to her and hopped on in. She sped off as soon as I was buckled up, and immediately started talking my head off.

  “I can’t believe that we’re gonna be coworkers,” she chirped excitedly. “This is. So. Cool. We’re gonna have to tell the boys, too. Big celebration and everything—”

  “Woah, woah,” I said, laughing. “Slow down there. I don’t need a huge celebration!”

  Trixie practically screeched.

  “Of course, you do! This is, like, huge girl. Huge. I’m sure Trip would put out for you.” She nodded. “Yep, I know he would.”

  I chuckled a little at that, but didn’t say anything—honestly? She was right. But … I also didn’t want to get into a conversation about Trip.

  “Uh oh.”

  I looked over to Trixie.

  “Uh oh?”

  “Uh oh. You have that look on your face, girl.”

  I frowned.

  “What look?”

  “The ‘boys are dumb’ look. Come on, girl. You know I get around. I know that look. Do I need to kick Trip’s ass?”

  At that, I laughed.

  “Definitely … Definitely don’t kick Trip’s ass. Please.”

  “Mmm, well if he’s gone and made you all sad and stuff, I will. He’s a hard-headed butthole sometimes, but you just got back! Come on. Tell a girl what he did!”

  I shook my head. Where did I even begin on this?! I’d avoided talking about the little incident at the diner after it happened. Throwing myself into getting a job had helped, and Trip was busy with club affairs and hadn’t pushed for that again, thankfully.

  I laughed a little again, if only to placate Trixie and her curiosities; I didn’t want to talk about what had happened, or about how it had made me feel—which was another thing that I was wholly, vehemently avoiding. Like the plague. Instead, I shook my head. Trixie and I didn’t talk much about Trip and me, and I figured that the good thing to do was keep it that way.

  Best way to do that?

  Deflect.

  “Trixie?” I asked.

  “Yeeah?”

  “You and Trip. You’ve been together, haven’t you?”

  “Mhm.” I was happy to see she didn’t seem faze in the slightest over the conversation topic change.

  “And it doesn’t … This isn’t weird for you?” Admittedly, it’d been a little weird for me, even with Trip’s steadfast assertions that he and Trixie weren’t sleeping together anymore.

  “Girl, why would it be weird? Trip’s been all up in a bunch of other girls—no offense,” she said, looking over at me apologetically.

  “No need to be sorry.”

  “Whew. Anyhoo. Listen. I know what I am, okay? I don’t have any delusions. Trip’s nice and all, but girl, I knew that wasn’t going anywhere! You being his old lady and all, and you got his girl—”

  “I’m not really his old lady,” I interjected. “I’m not really his anything.”

  “Girl,” Trixie said, rolling her eyes. “Anyone a mile away can see that’s bullshit. Besides …” She trailed off, rolling her lip between her teeth. “I was actually kinda afraid you weren’t gonna like me. I don’t pretend like I don’t know what most old ladies think about club girls, you know. It would have been okay if that was what you thought, but I’m glad you don’t. Besides, I don’t sleep with boys with attachments. It gets too complicated, and I just want to have fun while I’m young enough for it to matter!”

  She beamed at me with a smile, and I couldn’t think of even a second where I could honestly have disliked her. I patted her hand as we came to a stop at a light, just across the road from Lancaster’s.

  “Trust me when I say I understand the rap is generally unwarranted,” I told her. “Besides … You were there for Trip when I left. Even if it was just sex. It was something. It was obviously something that he needed.”

  She looked like she was going to cry, and that beaming smile widened.

  “I’m so glad we’re friends, Mi-mi.”

  Chapter Seven

  Trip

  Misha started a job at the diner, and spoke not a lick about what had happened when I’d taken her out. I supposed it was for the best. It had made me start to feel things that I knew I shouldn’t let myself feel. Things that would have me second guessing duty and club business.

  So, while Misha threw herself into work, I did the same.

  The Jackals hadn’t killed Misha, but they had taken her. Another club president had taken her and kept her and her daughter hostage. She hadn’t been a member of the club, but she’d been my girl. That was a grievance that I couldn’t allow to stand. Problem was, I was facing walls.

  “I don’t think we should go through with this. Not yet.”

  We were in my office—me, Brig, Travis, and the other boys I kept up high. We had a few ears to the ground over the border, a few ears that’d informed me that the Jackals were planning on moving s
ome product through the area. Usually, we wouldn’t touch drugs. I’d cleaned that shit out of here and made sure Jackals didn’t run that through our town. However, interrupting Jackal business meant fucking up their revenue, and they were breaking rules by running it through our town, anyway.

  Don’t bring the drugs over or through. They didn’t respect that, so I didn’t respect them.

  Brig had a problem with it, for some dumb shit reason or another.

  “We’ve done this before. They wanna run some shit they know better about through here. We toss it all off a cliff or something. I’m not saying peddle it here or something.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea to meddle with them in general, until we’re certain that things won’t go too south. There’s circumstances,” he said pointedly.

  “Circumstances?” I knew where this was going.

  “Misha—”

  “Why the fuck is it always about Misha?” I asked.

  “Because there’s gonna be retaliation when they figure out where she went, and poking them is gonna send us into some bad territory, Trip.”

  “You know,” Travis spoke up. “Brigs is probably right.” He held up his hand to stay my anger. “Let me finish, boss. That being said, even if they try something because they were dumb and let Misha slip out, we can’t let the slight against one of ours stand. And it’s not like we can afford to have them running drugs into town, either. We all know what dope problems do. It’s why Bobby’s gone and Boss Man here is where he is so young.”

  Heads were hung solemnly, and I looked over to Brig.

  “We’re gonna disrupt that run,” I said. “And then we’re gonna keep doing what we’ve been doing to show those Jackals that the Pride doesn’t stand for bullshit. Holland was already having trouble keeping up with all the interruption in business; Rigger’s an asshole, but he damn sure ain’t as smart as Holland was. Anyone that’s got a problem with that is free to not be here anymore.”

  Brig looked like he could have hit me. It wouldn’t have been the first time; we were best friends, but that didn’t mean we didn’t scrap from time to time. I saw the twitch in his jaw, but he didn’t do anything.

  “Whatever you want, boss,” he said.

  The meeting went on.

  Afterwards, I found Brig at the bar. He was nursing a whiskey. I sat beside him.

  “If you’re looking for an apology, I’m not giving your annoying ass one,” he said. I shrugged.

  “Who says I came looking for apologies, any fucking way? I wanted a drink.”

  He grunted.

  “Listen,” I said. I stopped there, until he looked over at me.

  “What?”

  “I get you’re worried, all right? I get you have doubts about Misha’s story. But she’s back, okay? And regardless, she was still taken. She still had to deal with that shit. I don’t know … I don’t know if it’s all the truth, but they faked all of that just to get her, just to make me snap. They gotta pay in some way, okay?”

  “I get that. We don’t want war, though.”

  “Nah, but if I can do whatever I can to keep them fucks from being on top, and knowing their place, then I’ll do it. But I need my brother beside me. You gonna be that, man?”

  Brig rolled his eyes, but I could tell he was about to crack.

  “I should tell you no, you know.”

  “But you’re not.”

  “No, I’m not, because I’m obviously some special kind of stupid. Whatever. I’ll tone it down, okay? But watch your fuckin’ back. Something’s brewing, some fucking where. I can feel it. We’re in for one hell of a storm.”

  # # #

  C-O-N-G-R-A-T-U-L-A-T-I-O-N-S-M-I-S-H-A-!

  The banner was strung all the wayacross over the bar. There were balloons and streamers and ribbons everywhere, perfect for a party.

  I was fucking nervous.

  Trixie had suggested this whole thing. Honestly? I wouldn’t have thought about it. It seemed like a whole lot of effort for something like getting a job, but Trixie had insisted there was something that I had to make up for. What? Couldn’t tell a soul, since Trixie hadn’t told me. She’d only given me a list of supplies, a date, and the instruction that I better make it good or she’d cut off my balls.

  Considering the fact that she liked them so much, the threat was concerning.

  I enlisted the help of the boys while Trixie took Misha out on a ‘girls’ date’ or whatever. I didn’t know about that stuff, and I didn’t ask. It did mean that, while we were setting up, I was in charge of Rose.

  “Mr. Trip?”

  I looked down at her, tugging lightly on the edge of my kutte. Neither Misha nor I had told her about me yet. I still wasn’t sure how to interact with the little girl, and simply hadn’t, not a lot. It didn’t seem to bother Misha—at least in the sense that she hadn’t said anything yet.

  I smiled down at Rose, though, trying not to be floored like I usually was at how much she looked like me.

  “Yeah? Whatcha need?”

  “Miss Trixie helped me pick out a present for Mama, but I need help wrapping it up …”

  From behind her back, she showed me a tiny butterfly pendant. It looked like one of the kind you could get from Walmart, but it was pretty and dainty and it was Misha’s favorite color—green.

  I smiled.

  “Sure. You got a bag and some tissue paper?”

  “Uh huh.”

  “Okay. Let me show you.”

  I didn’t pay attention to the fact that the boys were watching me as Rose led me back to the back room that she and Misha still shared. Even working, Misha didn’t have enough money to move out—though I wasn’t keen on forcing her out, either. Rose pulled out a little bag and an unwrapped selection of tissue papers in green and white. Girl knew her mama well.

  “All right. Here’s what you’re gonna do …”

  By the time the two of us were done, there was something kind of like a decently packaged bag. There was a lot of tape—and I mean a lot of it—but I didn’t think that was too shabby. Mostly.

  “You think it looks okay, Mr. Trip?” Rose held onto my hand tight as I led her out of the room and back into the front to drop her present with the others that were there for Misha. Boys in kuttes and girls in skirts were slowly pouring into the bar, courtesy of invite. Music was starting.

  I looked down at Rose.

  “Say … When your mama comes here, can you do me a favor?”

  Rose nodded at me fervently.“Yes! What is it, Mr. Trip?”

  “Tell her to meet me in my office. I have a surprise for her, too, but I want to give it to her in private, okay?”

  “Okay! Is it a present, too?”

  “It is. But it’s a secret, so you can’t tell her it’s a present, just that it’s something that’s for her. You think you can do that for me?” I topped the question off with a wink. She wiggled around a little, delight.

  “Yes, Mr. Trip!”

  “Awesome. Thanks, sweetheart.”

  Her face reddened and she beamed at me before trotting off to Travis, presumably to tell him about her present to her mother. I watched, not able to help the smile that came to my face.

  Damn. That little girl was mine. How the hell had I helped create something as magical as her? Had to chalk it up to Misha’s genes; li’l thing wasn’t shit like me, aside from the eyes.

  With that, I went back to my office, waiting. I hadn’t told anyone I was getting Misha something. I wanted it to be a total surprise, and I knew the boys were shit at keeping secrets. They were just like women sometimes; got some sort of hair up their ass about good gossip and it was spread all over the bar like fucking wildfire.

  “Trip?”

  There was a knock at my door that went with the voice. Her voice. I straightened up.

  “Aye, yeah. Come in.”

  Misha pushed my office door open, popping her head in before sliding in apprehensively. We hadn’t talked much since we’d fucked; I couldn’t really
blame her, I guessed, though it was frustrating nonetheless. I pushed down those frustrations, though, and gestured across from me.

  “Go on and sit.”

  She did so.

  “Did you organize all that out there?” she asked, nodding her head. “It’s insane.”