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B A N S H E E
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I had missed the funeral and missing a brother's funeral is nothing but a disrespect to the family. However, I do have some excuse including the part where I've been through hell for the past two years. It isn't pretty as it sounds and well, there's nothing really pretty about the life we all live.
Better not waste more time then. I kick open the door to the club house, knowing that it's not locked since it's The Gathering which is a fancy way of saying that it's a goodbye party to the brother we all just lost. Armstrong. The man was more like my father than a brother. He took care of me, brought me here in the Hellion, and showed me the ropes of everything with the promise of being part of the family.
The whole place not only was too loud for my taste but also smelled of different kinds of alcohol that it almost made me grimace. From the looks of the wet cemented floor, they already poured out one for Armstrong. Some of the alcohol had already surrounded my combat boots, I hissed shaking some of it off. Obviously, it was a lost cause doing it. Tomorrow, I thought, tomorrow I'll just wipe it all off or ask one of the trainees to do it.
"Well, I'll be fucking damned." Derek, known as Poison, smiled at me, pulling away from one of the women's grasps and stalked over me and gave me a huge hug. "Didn't think you were going to show up, Banshee."
He had said the Banshee too loud because the murmur along the place fell into a deep silent. When we parted, he just shrugged at me and gave me an apologetic look. The dumbass knew enough that I didn't like any kind of attention especially now that a brother had just died.
After a few seconds, he'd went back towards the woman who looked at me with warning. I tilted my head for a few seconds, narrowing my eyes at her. Been gone for just short of two years and you'd think that new women in the club would learn not to look down on those who has the cut.
"Banshee!" Catatonic ran up to me, a beer hanging in between her fingers. The woman was wearing heels that made her almost as tall as me. The women all over sneered at her as she passed them. She was always the most beautiful one in the place with her dark hair, golden eyes, and curvy figure. "Holy shit, I missed you!"
And that's when some people had started to come up to me and greet me, hugging me, sharing sentiments of sadness towards Armstrong, knowing well that I was the only person that was close with the man. He always did have a hard time opening to those who want to get near him, and fortunately, when he found me, he showed his vulnerability towards me, showed me what it's like to have a dad again.
Those who were new, at least I viewed as new, came up to me and greeted me, knowing full well of my reputation amongst the club. I was, after all, the first woman to ever get the cut and Catatonic was the second. I've tried really hard to get more women in the club but the change hasn't been met with open arms. At least, there was someone that I was relating to.
Others, new and old, were not really friendly given the fact that I was a woman wearing the Hellion MC cut.
Death came up to me and patted my back, his large figure towering over me as he passes me a freshly opened beer. I take it without hesitation, taking several gulps. The men had already gone back to their businesses while the two of us took a sit by the bar.
"Why weren't you at the funeral?" He asked, cocking his brow at me, those brown eyes of his gazing at me with curiosity. "In fact, why weren't you here days before he died? He called you, said that he was the only one that knew your number."
I just nodded. "Got tied up with business."
Literally. But they didn't really need to hear the story why I went away.
Dropping back the beer, I snapped my fingers and a woman behind the bar walked in front of me. The first thing I thought of when I saw her was that she had bigger boobs than I did, that's for sure—it just looks like they're about to pop out of her crop top. She was cocking a brow at me, disgust in her blue eyes. No doubt my blue eyes are brighter than that, though.
"What do you want?" She asked, running her hand through her short ponytail.
Death was already shaking his head. It wasn't for me but for this little bitch in front of me. "Another beer."
"Go get yourself one, whore." she spat, walking closer to the end of the bar. "You think that just because you're new you can walk all over me?"
I was already chuckling at her and I already knew that I was getting the attention again just from how everybody had become silent again. Turning to Death, I pointed at her. "Honestly, I've been gone for two years, you guys told the newbies who I was but you didn't tell the women in this place who I am?"
"Oops?" Death just smirked, clearly amused by the scene playing right in front of his eyes. He glances at the woman and shakes his head again. "Wrong move, Patty."
"What? I'm supposed to be afraid by this old whore?" The woman, Patty, sneered at me. "This bitch is—"
She could no longer continue what other insult she was about to say because I had already grabbed her shirt, used my other hand to grab her ponytail, and slammed her face down at the bar. She screamed but it just encouraged me to do it again. When I had let go, she fell down to the floor while I jumped on top of the bar, looking down at her.
Blood spurted out of her nose which she just screamed and cried about again. "My nose! You broke it!"
"If you weren't stupid enough to talk back at me, your nose would have been fine." She just cried at me again, tears streaming down her face. I rolled my eyes. "Next time, try not to talk back to the woman who could kill you with a single swipe of a knife. Also, look first, yeah? I'm wearing a cut, what does it tell you?"
She just continued crying.
"Ugh, I'm trying to be nice here and you're just bitching," I waved my hand at her dismissively. "Go to Doc. Fix your shit before I break more of your bones." Shaking, she gathered herself and stared at me with eyes full of fear, one of her hand on her nose, trying to stop the bleeding. "Boo!"
That's when she started to run away, screaming something that I'm going to kill her. Everyone started laughing, myself included as I got down of the bar. Death and I even high-fived.
"The fuck is going on here?!" The roaring of the voice made us all stop and turn towards the man by the stairs. "We're fucking mourning for a brother and you all are causing a ruckus!"
That was when I found myself to openly ogling the man. He had a long, jet-black hair tied up into a bun, letting everyone see the sides of his hair shaved. Normally, it wouldn't be my type on a guy but damn, he was rocking it out well; it made him mature especially with the beard. His olive-tanned skin complimented his dark black eyes, his pink lips were pressed into a grim line clearly unpleased, but my eyes just continued to wonder down at his right arm was full of ink.
I wonder where that tattoo leads.
"Well?" His thick brow raised at the men in front of him. Then, slowly, they all snapped their heads towards me, ratting me out, which made his eyes wander down to me.
What a bunch of pussies. I'm going to have to kick their asses preferably soon.
My eyes widened slightly at the sight of his cut. By the sleeve, it was clear of his position. President, it said. Fucking hell, so this is the new president that Armstrong said? Fucking mint, then.
No more time, Catalina. It was obvious from how Armstrong was gasping and hissing that he was wounded. The new pres wants you to go back. You have to go back, okay? Remember, I love you like a child that I never even have. Come back to us. My time is up.
With a wide grin, I mock saluted the man. "Good to be back, Pres. Banshee reporting for duty!"
I could sense Death tensing behind me and others as well. Poison, from far away, I could hear talking about how it was a stupid move for me to even talk to the president like that. I didn't care though. I had my fair share of meeting those who are engulfed by darkness and from the looks of this man, I could just tell that he had the same darkness as I had.
Maybe mine's bigger. Scratch that, it wasn't a maybe. My own darkness surpasses those who are even here.
His dark eyes narrowed at me. The intensity was making me want to look away but I knew better than to bitch out of a staring contest. If you can't look your president in the eyes, then you don't deserve to be wearing the cut. "Banshee."
My name rolled out easily out of his lips, I almost shuddered.
"You know it, Gorgeous." I winked.
I could tell from the way he stalked over me and grabbed my wrist tightly that he wasn't pleased of what I said.