Iron Bond (Lords of Carnage Ironwood MC, Book 4) by Daphne Loveling

Author:Daphne Loveling [Loveling, Daphne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2022-08-23T16:00:00+00:00

16

ROGUE

“Holy shit,” Mal hoots. “Look at this spread!”

It’s the day of the pig roast with the Wretched Souls MC. And our club has splashed the fuck out. Rourke and Axel got in touch with Red Andrews, a local butcher from Youngsville, the next town over. We run protection for him, so he was more than willing to cut us a deal on the pig and some other meat to grill.

“You think this’ll be enough to feed us all?” Matthias jokes, nodding toward the giant animal rotating on the spit at the edge of the compound.

“Damn well better be,” Axel growls. “This shit is costing the club a fortune.”

“Worth it,” Rourke replies, lifting up his half-drunk bottle of beer. “Even if we don’t eat it all, we’ll have leftovers. Nothing better than roast pig leftovers.”

We’re expecting at least fifty people today, counting our club and the Wretched Souls. Since this is an adults-only event, a couple of the club girls, as well as Eden and Axel’s nanny Mariah, are taking care of the Lords of Carnage kids at Axel’s house for the day. Most of the rest of us are here already, waiting for the Souls to show up. The atmosphere is festive, with a little underlying tension.

Seems like the old ladies are pretty damn excited about having a day to party and not worry about their kids. They brought a bunch of side dishes and desserts, and set them up on tables outside for everyone to help themselves. Now that they’re done with their part, The alcohol is flowing, the music is thumping, and the women are shouting and laughing almost as loud as the men. I walk past a large group of them, not paying much attention, as I make my way over to the roasting spit to see if I can grab a sample of meat. It smells damn good, and my stomach is rumbling like a Harley engine.

“Hey there, brother,” Dante calls out as I approach. He’s standing near Red, who’s supervising the roasting process and exchanging jabs and tips.

“Hey.” I nod toward a huge mound of meat that’s already been cooked and taken off the spit. “That looks ready to eat.”

“Help yourself,” Red tells me. “We ain’t started serving yet, but it’s ready for sure. Buns are over there.”

I grab a plate and a couple of buns from a huge stack, then stick a large-pronged fork into the meat and make myself two large ones. Over at the next table, there’s plates full of fixin’s, and a huge vat of potato salad just begging for me to eat some. I’m in a good damn mood, seeing all this food. All the shit that’s been on my mind lately evaporates for a while, and I get ready to just party and have a good time.

As I heap food on my plate, a low rumble of engines sounds off in the distance. The Wretched Souls are here. Two dozen or so motorcycles file in through the compound gates. Like choreography, they pull up in rows and park their bikes.

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