Blood in the Water (Kairos) (14 page)

“It go okay?”  Samuel asked once they were all seated.  Paul knew that Terry had kept Samuel updated while they were en route; he was asking for the benefit of the rest of the table.

Terry answered.  “Sure did.  Smooth as butter, just how we like it.”

“Good, good.  No use in getting’ complacent, but smooth is good.”  Samuel nodded.  He was stroking his beard and Paul realized that Dean had picked up his father’s tick.  “You all free next Saturday for the fundraiser?”

Again it was a rhetorical question; Paul knew by now that a flatline was the only acceptable excuse for missing something that Moira had any hand in organizing.  Predictably “Yeah’s” and “Sure, Boss’s” reverberated around the table.

“Thank you.  It does help make life easier when I can keep my lady sweet.”  Samuel smiled.

Chiz snickered.  “I know you ain’t talkin’ ‘bout Ashleigh.”

“Now Chiz, you know I’d like to give my baby bird the moon if I could, but sometimes the best I can do is keep her mama happy.”  Samuel replied in an overly serious tone, resulting in appreciative chuckles all round.

“Go on, boys.”  He continued, dismissing them.  “Get yourselves a few drinks and some eats.  Time to relax.”

The herd poured out of the room, uniformly aiming for the bar.  Sinatra was excused from bar duty, having been included on the run.  Morse and Geoff were frantically trying to keep up with the initial flood of requests for beers and shots.  The way Paul was seeing things, Sinatra was likely going to get his patch first and maybe Morse not long afterwards, but it was hard to tell about Geoff.  There was nothing wrong with Geoff, but there was something missing that would have made him unquestionably right.  His patch was going to depend on whether the table thought whatever it was that he was missing was something that he could develop, but he wouldn’t get his patch until he did.

Paul filled and ate a plate of food that far outclassed anything they’d picked up on the road.  The sweetbutts were milling around, staking their claims or putting themselves in the way of being claimed.  Katie was occupying space at Paul’s side, but with some deft maneuvering he managed to throw her in the way of Crash without either of them realizing that they’d been set up until after it had happened, by which point Katie in particular was in no position to argue.  Paul didn’t consider himself a connoisseur, and all of the girls that frequented the clubhouse were definitely worth a second look for one reason or another, but Katie was beginning to get clingy.  He was going to have to pull back from the blonde.  The only problem was that the novelty of new pussy had worn off pretty quickly after he’d received his patch.  If he was honest with himself, the novelty hadn’t really had a chance after that first glimpse of the blonde that really occupied his thoughts, but he was determined to nurture a big case of denial about that.  This night at least he found he had no preference for any of the regular girls.  There were other girls dotted around the room, but they weren’t regulars and Paul didn’t have a lot of trust for such transient pussy.

Despite the banter with his brothers, the excellent food and the cold beers, Paul was feeling restless.  There was something missing.  He hadn’t spotted the one person he’d been expecting, maybe hoping to see.  He scanned the room, but he couldn’t see his target.  He reckoned there was only one other place that person might be if they were in attendance at all.  While there was a lull in the conversation that had been bouncing between himself, Chiz and Dean, Paul managed to slip into the kitchen. 

Sure enough, Ashleigh was in there, alone.  She was at the sink, her back to the door.  He took a moment to take in the fact that, for once, she wasn’t wearing jeans.  The black leggings were an improvement, but he couldn’t lay eyes on her ass in Lycra thanks to the oversized grey t-shirt that slouched off one shoulder and dropped to mid-thigh.

“Hiya.  They got you chained up in here again?”

She spun round, obviously having been completely oblivious to his entrance into the room.  Water dripped from her rubber gloves onto the floor.

“Jesus you scared the shit outta me.  You shouldn’t be sneakin’ up on a girl like that.”  Ashleigh turned back to the sink.  Paul walked over to her side.  He propped his hip against the counter so that he could watch her more comfortably.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.”  He aimed for sincerity and missed it by a long way.

“Yeah well I’m gonna get you a fuckin’ bell anyway.”  She muttered without looking up from the soapy water.

Paul waved his beer in the direction of the pans and utensils that she was scrubbing.  “Why’n’t the club girls helpin’ you with this?”

Ashleigh turned an arched eyebrow to him.  “’Cause you boys are keepin’ ‘em too busy.”

Was that a hint of jealousy he heard?  He shouldn’t care if she was jealous.  She shouldn’t care if he fucked anything that moved in a hundred mile radius, but it sure sounded like she did.  And he liked that she did more than was good for him.  “Hey, not me.  I’m in here pesterin’ you.”

Ashleigh’s irritated huff indicated that she didn’t think much of his defense.  He watched as she struggled with a lock of hair that had come loose from her ponytail.  It kept falling in front of her eye, and she kept trying to brush it back into place with the back of one wrist, but the rubber of the glove kept catching the hair and pulling it forward as much as she was trying to brush it back.  Paul watched the battle for some moments as Ashleigh got progressively more frustrated with herself.  Eventually he took pity on her, and advantage of the opportunity.  With a smile he caught the errant lock between with his fingertips and tucked it behind her ear.  She jumped initially when his hand appeared near her face, but as he smoothed her hair into place, he didn’t miss that she inclined her head to lean into his palm just a little, almost as if she was unaware of her own response. 

It was still a bad idea, but he couldn’t help testing the deliberateness of her reaction by brushing the back of his fingers down the side of her neck and over the bare shoulder revealed by the outsized t-shirt.  He watched her eyelids fall closed and a shiver chase over her skin before she took a deep breath and shrugged away from his touch.  Paul very much wanted to set another one of those shivers coursing over her, followed by another, and another.  But when her eyes opened, Ashleigh’s expression was determined.

“You should go.  I’ve got a lot to do in here.”  He’d have believed that she really wanted him gone if her voice had been more than a mere breath.

“I could lend a hand.”  He offered.

“Nuh uh.  You’re goin’ back out there and gettin’ yourself good an’ drunk after that long ride.  It’s no less than you deserve.  You want to chat with Ashleigh?  She’ll be out in a few minutes.”  Both of them jumped at the sound of Dolly’s voice.  Evidently neither of them had noticed her entering the room.  Ashleigh’s guilty expression was worthy of having been caught being fucked up against the fridge rather than in the middle a reasonably innocent exchange of words.  Paul wanted to double over laughing and to throw her over his shoulder at the same time.  He decided to defer to Dolly, though, figuring that keeping her on his side would be advantageous.

“Yes ma’am.”  He saluted Dolly with his now empty bottle.  Ashleigh cast her eyes sideways at that.  He smiled at her and was gratified to see a brief blush color her cheeks.  Paul decided right then and there that he wanted to see that flush illuminate more of Ashleigh’s body.  Jesus if he kept thinking about ways in which he could make her glow like that he was going to get a hard-on right in front of Dolly.

“See ya in five.”  He kept his voice low, directed only at Ashleigh, but she didn’t answer him.

He pushed away from the counter and nodded in response to Dolly’s self-satisfied smirk as he passed her.  He decided to get another beer while he waited for Dolly to force Ashleigh to leave the washing up.  He was sure that Ashleigh’s station in the kitchen was at least partially voluntary.  He guessed that if she had really wanted to join the party she only needed to have a quiet word with her mother and one of the girls would be assigned scrubbing duty. 

Dean intercepted him before he made it to the bar.  He was now minus either of the girls he’d been lining up before.  He held out a fresh bottle of beer.

“Here.  You mind if we have a chat?”

Paul accepted the bottle.  He had a feeling he knew where this was going.  “Sure.”

“Bro, I’m not tryin’ to get up in your face here, but Ash is my sister.”  Yeah, that’s where he’d figured this was going, and it explained why Dean kept his distance some.

“I know that.  I don’t mean no disrespect.”  Paul assured him sincerely.

“Neither do I when I tell you that you need to stay away.  She ain’t what you’re lookin’ for.”

Paul was more than slightly offended.  “How do you know what I’m lookin’ for?”

Dean wasn’t undeterred.  “She ain’t club pussy for a start.”

Now Paul really was offended.  “I never thought that she was.”  He was pissed off at Dean’s low estimation of him and the assumption that he would callously treat his president’s daughter like a whore.

“It’s not just that, bro.  A man like you, you should be lookin’ for someone who can handle what you’ve got to give.  Ash’s a civvie, she’s best left out of all this.”

Now they were really at the heart of Dean’s concern.  Paul decided to give Dean the benefit of the doubt just one time and assume he was talking about Paul’s reputation as an Enforcer.  “She’s a grown woman.  How ‘bout you let her make up her own mind?”

“Why?  You make a move already?”

“Not that it’s any of your business, but no.”

“Good.”  Dean looked more relieved than Paul thought he had any right to be.  “Look, this ain’t just about you.  She’s still not right after her divorce.  She don’t need her heart breakin’ all over again just yet.  Please, give her some space to build herself back up.”

Such an earnest brotherly request was probably the only thing that could have mitigated Paul’s anger over Dean’s insinuations.

“I ain’t aimin’ to break her heart.”  Whoa, that sounded a lot more serious than he’d intended, but truth be told, Paul couldn’t say he was lying.

“Please.  I’m askin’ you as a brother, as her brother, to think again.”  With that, Dean turned and headed over to join Dizzy, Crash and Chiz at the pool table.

Paul considered the exchange.  There was a lot that Dean had said that he wanted to be pissed over and some things that he couldn’t argue.  All in all, starting anything with Ashleigh was still a bad idea, but he couldn’t find the will to stop himself.  He watched as Dolly shooed Ashleigh out of the kitchen, and as Ashleigh checked for the moment that she was no longer being watched so that she could slip quickly through the chattering, laughing people and escape out the door.  He’d let her go tonight, but she wasn’t going to be able to run away forever.

Chapter
Seven

Ashleigh couldn’t put a value on the effort that her mother put in to raising funds for the animal shelter; but that didn’t mean that she didn’t want to strangle Moira when she was in Drill Sergeant Mode.  The tarmac parking lot of the veterinary surgery had all but completely disappeared beneath the hive of activity as the stalls were set up for the fundraiser.  Moira had been on form again, persuading and cajoling people and businesses to support the event. 

The shelter for stray and abandoned animals had been built entirely from donations.  It was part of the clinic; Ashleigh and the other veterinary surgeons provided their services pro bono to treat the patients.  There were two veterinary nurses that were funded by the clinic itself, but donations paid for the majority of the food, equipment and supplies.  Strays weren’t a huge problem in Absolution itself, but the shelter served an extensive area around the town, and unfortunately there were always animals that needed care and attention and a new home.  There were always unexpected litters and pets that no longer had a place in their previously loving families.  From the wider area they also dealt with the fallout from animal hoarders and cock and dog fighting prosecutions.  Although it tore Ashleigh to pieces to see the birds with feathers missing and combs and spurs brutally cut off and the dogs with more scars than pelt and no hope of rehabilitation, the cases that really ripped into her heart were the neglect cases.  At least the animals bred for fighting had received some degree of care; for a time at least they were valuable to their owners.  The horses, dogs, cats left to starve hadn’t even warranted that much thought from their owners.

Ashleigh had arrived early that morning along with her mother and a tray full of black coffees in time for the arrival of the members of the Priests that Moira had coerced into helping with the initial set up.  Terry, Paul, Dizzy and Crash said that they’d volunteered, but Ashleigh was inclined to only half believe them.  She knew what ‘volunteered’ looked like when it was her mother that had been asking.  The other members would be along later.  Just because they weren’t lucky enough to be in the first wave didn’t mean they were off the hook at all.  Samuel had already been dispatched on last minute errands, still grumbling that if Moira wanted him to run all over creation collecting balloons and banners that she could have at least provided a cooked breakfast first.  Ashleigh wasn’t convinced that her father would survive past lunch if he kept up that line of thinking.

Ashleigh wasn’t sure how Terry had managed to escape, but she couldn’t see him anywhere. Dizzy and Paul had already been over to the high school to pick up some folding tables and were currently unloading them from the club van under Moira’s direction.  Crash was scrambling in between and underneath the tables and in and out of the clinic.  He had lengths of wires looped over his arms and extension sockets slung around his neck.  He had been put in charge of making sure that anyone who needed power for their stall had a connection. 

“Tink!  For fuck’s sake.  If you’re gonna stand there daydreamin’ can you at least step outta my fuckin’ way.” 

Ashleigh jumped at Crash’s sharp tone, but when she looked down to where he was on his knees, laying a cable guard over the power cord to a laptop on her table she found that he was smiling. 

“I wasn’t daydreamin’.   I was, uh, thinkin’ about the supplies I needed to get together for the microchipping.”

“Sure you were.”  He scoffed with a grin.  “Wasn’t nothin’ to do with Shark carryin’ those tables by himself.”

Ashleigh felt herself blushing at having been found out.  She may or may not have been watching Paul, particularly when he hefted a table up himself to carry it to where it needed to go.  The morning was already warming up and he’d discarded his zippered hoodie.  The navy t-shirt he was wearing wasn’t skin tight, but it sure did fit close over his arms.  Of course, given the size of those biceps Ashleigh doubted there was a t-shirt anywhere big enough to be baggy around them.

“No seriously, Tink.  If you ain’t doin’, at least you could go get some more coffee.”  Crash was still smiling.

“You sound like my mama.”  Ashleigh muttered, but she headed inside the clinic anyway.  She really did need to collect the supplies of microchips, sterile needs and the little information cards and stickers that went with each chip.  She might as well throw a few cups of coffee together in the staff lounge as well.

A lot of the stalls were the kind that popped up every time there was a similar event in town, but for today Ashleigh would be offering free short consultations and microchipping for dogs and cats.  She’d also be trying to persuade people to get their pets spayed or neutered, and if the wi-fi link worked, she’d be able to access the diary system for the clinic to make appointments, too.  Michelle, one of the shelter nurses, was due to arrive at the official start time to help cover the stall.

Ashleigh collected the supplies she needed and left them on the reception desk while she went back to make the coffees.  Crash would only shout at her some more if she dumped everything on the table while he was trying to link up the internet connection.  She was glad of the few minutes of peace and quiet as she lifted enough mismatched mugs out of the cupboard and waited for coffee to brew.  As reluctant as she was to open herself to the possibility of getting involved with anyone ever again, she couldn’t deny that she was feeling an ever-growing attraction to Paul that was more than likely to result in her making a fool of herself and had the potential to cause some serious and needless disruption to the club.

She’d been finding it hard to ignore him since the night that he’d gotten his club ink.  He’d been laid out on that dusty old lounge like presents under the tree on Christmas morning.  She hadn’t wanted anyone to call her out on her ogling, so she’d spent as much time in the kitchen as she could, only looking during brief forays into the room.  It was nigh on impossible to miss those planes of cut muscle.  Jesus, but the man looked like a biology textbook illustration without his shirt on.  It had taken a few hours to ink the large design he’d picked and even with the redness and the shiny ointment it had looked good.  Actually, ‘good’ was somewhat of an understatement.  To Ashleigh it looked as though his chest had been crying out for that ink, and as though the patch symbol had been designed with that placement on his body in mind.  Since then, just seeing him and knowing what was under his clothes was distracting enough, but it was far worse when it was something that was cut low enough to show the edge of the design.  Seeing that ink just peeking over a neckline seemed to set her brain to ‘Stoopid.’

Since the previous Saturday night, she’d been avoiding the clubhouse.  It was bad enough that she couldn’t stop staring at him, but she could explain that away as being due to the sheer size of the man.  But she wouldn’t be able to explain the way she was staring at him, and she knew that would raise a few eyebrows.  He’d found her, or had it been sought her out, in the kitchen, and she could still feel the electric charge of the path that Paul’s fingers had taken down her neck and along her shoulder, even though a full week had passed since he’d touched her.  Time had only made it worse.  Each subsequent night had been filled with imaginings of what his fingers might feel like caressing other areas of her body.  She was sure that anyone who knew her would be able to tell as soon as they looked at her that she was in lust, and she didn’t want anyone making a bigger deal of it that they needed to, particularly Aunt Dolly.  Dolly had still not forgiven her for leaving instead of finding her way into Paul’s bed a week ago.

Ashleigh found an ancient tray; its design dated it somewhere around the seventies.  She loaded it up with cups of steaming, black coffee and carried it outside.  She offered Crash a cup first, reasoning that he might drop the subject of catching her daydreaming if she was nice to him.  She really hadn’t intended for Paul to be the last person that she sought out to offer a drink to, it just so happened that he’d been carrying a table, and then Dizzy had started chatting and then, well, maybe it wasn’t all that unintentional.

“Hey, you want some caffeine?”  Paul was in the middle of unfolding a table, and Ashleigh took a second to appreciate those arms at work all over again before he straightened up and took the offered mug.

“Sure.  Thanks.”

“No worries.  Thanks... for helping with this.”  She was struggling to actually make words and get them out without babbling, because he was smiling that smile at her.  Goddamn, she was a grown woman reduced to a snickering teenager.

“Your mama sure don’t take ‘no’ for an answer, but I’m lookin’ forward to seein’ you in action.”

“It’s nothin’ special.”  It was an effort for her not to blush under the weight of the double entendre.

“Oh, I don’t know about that.”

His eyes were saying a lot more than the low rumble of his voice, and Ashleigh resisted the need to let her knees go weak.  She was going to have to pull herself together and quickly. 

“I better get back to gettin’ in Crash’s way.”  Ashleigh thanked her lucky stars that she didn’t trip over anything as she scurried back to see how Crash was getting along with the laptop.

~o0o~

Almost before they’d finished getting everything in place, people started to arrive.  One of the big draws was the chance to get some free professional advice, and people were taking advantage of that.  They arrived with dogs on leads, cats and bunnies in carriers, goldfish in bags and with horses and goats on halters.  Some of the farmers from around the area stopped to ask questions, and Ashleigh made arrangements to visit them for a more extended consultation.  She was relieved that no one had tried to bring their dairy herd with them.

Moira’s plan was working perfectly.  Although many people came for free advice, they stayed and spent money at the various attractions.  Dolly had unloaded stacks of Tupperware filled with every type of biscuit, cookie, cake or muffin that Ashleigh had ever heard of.  Even though Dolly’s stall was next to hers, Ashleigh had barely been able to see Dolly for the people surrounding her table all morning. There were raffles, bric-a-brac and home crafts and a name the teddy bear with a prize that was almost as big as first grader and sure to give any child that won it night terrors.  Over the chatter of all the people there was the noise of an amateur talent show, mostly featuring local children rather than adults. There were a lot of singers and bands, and some comedians and dance acts.  A few performers stood out, almost bringing the crowd to a standstill with their ability, but mostly it all just added to the general din.

Most of the guys from the club were playing caveman with the barbeque.  Kong and Fletch were doing an unintentional comedy double act at the cotton candy machine.  Fletch was attempting to stop Kong eating the spun sugar faster than he could sell it, and Kong was offering to eat it out of the cleavage of every perky high school girl that walked past. Terry and Ashleigh’s father were manning the stall supplied by official business arm of the club.  They’d brought a vintage Harley knucklehead that was a restoration project for an out-of-town customer.  It sat on its kickstand, the scarlet and magnolia paintwork gleaming to an almost blinding shine in the sunlight, looking almost unearthly in its polished perfection.  It was a dollar to guess the weight of the bike, and the closest estimate at the end of the day would receive a free service for a vehicle of their choice.

Her mother was working the crowd, taking time to acknowledge and thank the stall holders and the attendant town dignitaries.  Ashleigh was sure that her mother would also be getting a few poignant remarks in about the help that the club was providing.  The day held the unique flavor of the town and reminded Ashleigh why it was that she’d never really wanted to live anywhere else over and above her roots in the MC.

Ashleigh had been busy to the point of being almost overwhelmed all morning.  Michelle had been an absolute angel.  A vast resource of knowledge in her own right, she’d been able to field many of the varied queries and efficiently completed the registrations for each microchip as fast as Ashleigh could finish the actual insertion.  A stray dog that had been enticed into being caught was delivered to the shelter, and two unwanted litters of kittens were dropped off.  It was beyond Ashleigh’s comprehension how anyone could dump such helpless and innocent creatures by roads and in streams when it didn’t cost anything to leave them at the shelter.  They’d taken in a couple of more exotic creatures which added variety and tested them a little.  The owner of a Chilean rose tarantula had relinquished his new pet, having failed to understand the level of his wife’s arachnophobia when he purchased it.  They also agreed to re-home a python that a teenager had persuaded his parents to buy without informing them about how big it would grow and which had become a problem when it had escaped and tried to eat the neighbor’s Pomeranian.