Shea & War

Chapter 14

Thank Fuck For Old Beater Trucks 

War

The guys are starting to thaw, so damn slowly, but they're coming around.  Not long after the night Ryder stopped by to throw some harsh words my way, the guys began talking to me.  Not a lot, in fact, fucking infrequently at best, but they did talk to me.  Before this, I was the dead, unseen ghost in the room.  Now, I'm the creepy relative everyone hates and ignores at the holidays, but at least I'm seen now.  If I'm working on a job on a construction site, or in the garage, they'll actually talk to me, just about work, but fuck yeah, I'll take it.

No longer being Nomad, I'm getting back deep into the day to day of club life. When I left, I wasn't an officer, I was a soldier. But for the past couple of years I've been on the dark side of the National club, I was doing high-level work, the dirty shit. So now that I'm back here in Crestview, they're using my experience and pushing me into an Enforcer capacity. Not officially, we still have Pike wearing the Enforcer patch. But I'm now his go-to in planning and execution. If he wasn't happy with my performance, I'd know about it, and I'd be removed from that detail. So right now, I work on my own in the garage most days, except when club business puts me elsewhere, basically I'm a club bitch, doing whatever the officers want, whenever they want it. And I'm sure as fuck happy that they're giving me a chance to prove myself again.

My work at the garage has been good, I've always been pretty quick with engines, I never fit in with the academic side of life, I fucking struggled getting through school, but I am fuckin at home in a garage, I also worked on construction crews throughout high school and summers, so I picked up enough build experience to make me somewhat worthwhile and not totally dangerous.   

I've been talking with Rock and Teller, helping them work on Rocks car, and I plan on helping out with Tellers ride now that the time has come for him to start the rebuild process. It's slow going, but the boys are letting me in, a little bit at a time, but at least I'm seeing some kind of progress.

It wasn't quick for them to even talk to me, I got a shit load of smack thrown at me (deserved) even a couple of elbows and pranks, (again, deserved). What I didn't expect was for them to let me help with their trucks. Rocks truck, since it was previously his dads, and before that, it was already old as fuck, needs some frequent attention. Tells truck, that project hadn't even begun yet, so that one is at stage fucking one.

Back in the day, Rocky, Jax and I rebuilt the old blue Bronco that Rock drives now. It was his dads pride and joy, it took us 3 years to rebuild and we learned all about engines while building it. Club brothers helped us and taught us how to work the engines. We started at 13, with some of the older members helping us out daily, and eventually got to the point where we could work on it without someone constantly looking over our shoulders and holding our damn hands. All the money we earned from the part time jobs we had went to buy the parts, and by the time Rocky had almost turned 17 and the car was ready, we jumped in the truck and took off with some fun and easy girls and partied the whole night. Epic memories in that truck, and to see Rock and Teller driving it now, fuck, it both warms my heart and shreds it all at the same time. Good fucking times, great fucking men.

So the boys and I are fixing up an old beater truck that Rocky had picked up for Tell when he got old enough to start working on it. But instead of his old man and uncle helping him with the build, Tell is gonna get his older brother and me. This is an honor and a tribute to their dad and uncle, and I think the club sees it the same way. The fact that the brothers are letting me take the lead on this project shows me that they're starting to let me in and trust in me again.

Thank fucking god.

We've got the engine all laid out and the body on blocks in the garage at their house. We've been working on it at nights when the kids are home and done with practice and homework, and on some weekends when they have some spare time. Fuck, I'll do anything at anytime to be anywhere near all of them, if they wanted me to spit polish the trashcans there at 3:00 am, I'd do it with a fucking grin on my face.