CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
"Oww." Okay, so maybe sleeping in the back seat of my truck was a good idea last night. Waking up having slept in my truck this morning was torture. There was no seedy stomach, but my head, neck and back all hurt. My legs were numb from having been curled up all night; apparently I hadn't even remembered to take my shoes off before I went to sleep.
Pushing open the door I shuffle along the seat till my feet touch the ground. Stepping out of the car I open the roller door in front of my car so I can get it out later.
Walking out of the shade of the garage I squint at the bright light and go back to the car and pull out my dark sunglasses. Going back outside and walking towards where I can see Gemma sitting on a picnic table it's much easier to see. Gemma is the doting grandmother this morning, Kenny and Ellie running round her feet, happily playing.
She takes one look at me, picks a water bottle up off the table behind her and hands it to me without saying a word.
"Thanks." My voice sounds like I'm a pack a day smoker, I guess the smoke inside then the smoking outside has messed with my voice box for today. Drinking half the water in one long gulp I feel a lot better once I put the bottle back down.
"There's food inside if you want it. Nothing major, but I think if you want some you might want to get to it before the smell wakes everyone up. It's in the kitchen." She gently pushes me towards the door, and I know that she's right. If I don't get something now there won't be anything but empty plates by the time the hungry bikers have had a go at whatever she's brought over.
Heading into the Clubhouse I have to step over several half naked people, and what I think is at least one pile of vomit. Thankful I still have my shoes on I'm feeling better than most of the sleeping people look, until I open the kitchen door and see the blonde that was with Jax and Ima standing there blankly looking at the coffee machine.
I just can't help myself, the snarky bitch I haven't been for years comes out, "It won't work by you looking at it honey. You actually have to use your hands. Put the ground coffee in there," I point. "The water goes in there," another point "and hot coffee comes out there." A final point towards the simple drip coffee maker doesn't change the empty expression on her face and I kinda feel sorry for her.
I push her out of the way, spend a minute getting the coffee machine sorted before getting down a cup and showing her where the other cups are, including Jax's, the milk and sugar. I know I don't have to be nice to her, but the empty expression on her face just makes me think of those girls in New York we'd see occasionally who were so drug fucked they didn't know which way was up.
By the time the coffee is ready I've eaten one of the banana chocolate chip muffins Gemma brought in, and got the coffee cups ready, putting the milk and sugar in Jax's cup and the sugar in my own. I don't want to know how Blondie 2 (Ima being Blondie 1) has her coffee, I don't actually care.
The coffee clicks that it's done and I pour the hot black liquid into the cups, put the pot back and tell her to make sure she takes food down for Jax as well, cause he's an asshole if he's hung-over.
I don't wait for any answer, or see how she's going to manage 3 coffee cups and 2 plates, I pick up another muffin and my coffee and head back outside. I stop at the end of the hallway, take a deep breath and yell "Breakfast." Before disappearing back outside grinning.
"That wasn't very nice." Gemma comments when I sit back beside her.
I shrug, "And I care why?" the snarky is still present; she's not quite ready to be subdued yet. A bit of food and not yet drunk any coffee, she's still sitting there waiting for an opportunity to come back out.
"Good point." We sit in the sun, watching as sweet butts, crow eaters and hang around's come stumbling out the clubroom doors and head back to their Sunday-Friday lives that none of us really care about.
Checking on my watch I find that I only have about 45 minutes to get the U-Haul hooked up and over to the storage facility. I sigh, brush my hands off on my trouser legs and stand up.
"What's up baby?" Gemma asks.
"Hmm? Oh, I have to move the stuff out of the U-Haul today, they want it delivered back to San Fran tomorrow, and I forgot to tell Al and Cam so they could come help." I feel tired, the coffee and 2 muffins are helping, but I still think sleeping in the car can be compared to sleeping on a bed of broken glass for how rested I feel.
Gemma picks up her phone, pushes a button and waits, seconds later "Clay, Sarah's stuff needs to be emptied out of the trailer and you wanted her at the patch party last night, which she showed up at so now she needs the prospects and one Son to wrangle them." A few seconds pause, "Thank you, love you." And she's hanging up the phone, "Now we wait and see how quickly they jump."
5 minutes later the prospects who's names I still don't know are standing in front of me and Gemma with Chibs behind them waiting for directions. Gemma wordless points at the trailer and the truck it needs to be attached to before taking the keys from my hand and passing them to Chibs. I'm thankful in that second that she doesn't even consider giving them to either of the prospects, they both look like they'd forget which one was the brake and which was the gas.
Chibs pulls the truck out the garage bay and orders one of the prospects to close the bay again and lock the doors before coming back. The one that runs to do that I learn is named Miles, the other one who seems to have missed a few brain cells as it takes Chibs pointing at the giant white trailer and telling him to go over and take off the wheel clamp they put on it when it was parked there before he moves in that direction.
Gemma shakes her head as we both watch carefully while my car is connected to the trailer. Once it's all hooked up and Chibs has the guys make sure the lights are all working I head over there and hop up into the passenger seat, knowing club mentality, chicks are passengers at all times, but there is no way in hell I am letting them loose moving all my stuff without supervision.
Chibs and I didn't know each other well before I left, being 18 at the time I couldn't be bothered trying to work out what this oddly speaking man was trying to say at the best of times, at the worst of times I couldn't bring myself to stop staring at the scars that mar his cheeks.
Now I've grown a lot, the way he speaks no longer seems so alien, maybe his accent has dimmed, which I doubt as he lets loose a flurry of Irish at the prospects who are taking too long to sort themselves out, or maybe that's another way for me to tell I've grown up. I hope it's that one.
The prospects are finally on their shitty bikes and ready to follow us. I let Chibs know which entrance to the storage facility to use and we move to pull out of the lot, just as we're passing the garage Gemma sticks her head out of the office and tells Chibs to make sure the boys don't break anything, cause I have her permission to beat the shit out of them if they do.
Chibs laughs, obviously realising that I don't feel totally great, but not knowing that Gemma had forced me into self-defence class at 15 which I'd dragged Donna to. We both enjoyed it so much we ended up doing a 3 month course before our sophomore year started, and had occasionally been known to break noses of people who stuck them in our business.
I growl at him, he doesn't know, but I'll be happy to show him if either of the prospects breaks a single thing that my friends have hauled from New York, over 9 states and into California.