Screaming Eagles Clubhouse
-late evening-
Night has fallen, and dusk is just a faint memory. Cold wind blows across the deserted courtyard that’s bathed in darkness. The Screaming Eagles logo is dark, the floodlights off. Other than the rattle of a length of hoisting chain being buffeted in the wind, there’s hardly a sound to be heard. Even outside the looming shadow of the wall that surrounds the compound, it seems quiet. No traffic tonight, no honks or yells.
The front door to the clubhouse is locked tight, and footsteps on the metal stairs to the door ring out hollowly in the night. The massive maw that leads into the attached garage is shut tight. Not a single motorcycle decorates the courtyard, except one that’s broken down in parts and obviously in no shape to be ridden anymore.
But, off to the side and a bit to the back of the darkened clubhouse, a single faint light glows—the only sign that the whole place isn’t abandoned and left to decay. A diminutive flame flutters in the wind, its weak glow barely adding detail to the ground around it.
Still, standing alone in the darkness, it’s a beacon.
Further in, past the corner of the clubhouse, another candle flickers, held in place by a couple of stones put together. Is it a warning? Or a cry for help? Together with the first, the candles light the beginnings of a path to behind the warehouse. But where does it lead? In a deserted place such as this, what could be hiding in the foreboding blackness?
A dog bays into the night, the cry picked up by a second lower howl.
Following the path from one small patch of light to another brings us to a barn-like storage shed that occupies a large part of the back of the Screaming Eagles block. On sunnier days, the open space is filled with laughter and the smell of food grilling. Music and the sound of cans being shot off a fence. But now… it’s empty. Deserted and cold.
But there’s a faint glow underneath the double doors.
And up close, they are warm to the touch. Whatever lurks within, it’s warmer than the biting wind outside. It’s tempting, but is there shelter inside? Or a trap?
There’s only one way to find out.
The double doors creak forebodingly as they’re pushed open to reveal what lies within.
Kaylee
“Trick or treat!” Three children yell all at once, their voices tinny and nervous.
Did we do too good of a job? God, I helped set the whole thing up, and I was a little creeped out myself. But the guys said it would be fine. But we don’t have kids yet. How would they know what’s too much?
I’m half tempted to come out from my hiding place to make sure the kids know it’s all a game, when suddenly all the floodlights come on at once, bathing the front of the shed shades of orange, green and red thanks to the translucent covers.
The kids squeal and clutch their candy buckets, looking around in delight.
Skeletons hang from the shelves, bone white and grinning with empty eye sockets—fake obviously. We’re a little crazy around here, but not that crazy. Izzy, the oldest and bravest of the bunch, spots the big treasure chest on top of a crate covered by a white table cloth. She points, and the top opens with a creak to reveal chocolate bars, gummies, orange and black candy canes, bags of cotton candy, candy corn—so much stuff, but as someone with an eternal sweet tooth, it looks perfect to me.
“Candy!” Izzy yells. And as soon as the rest of the kids zero in on the mother lode, they charge for it.
The only thing that stands between them and the candy is a massive cauldron on the floor with a constant stream of smoke coming out of it.
Izzy, Dante and Matteo eye it suspiciously as they make their way around, giving it a wide berth. Clever kids, but not clever enough. Because that puts them right in front of me.
I jump out and capture them up in a big bear hug and cackle my wildest laugh to go with my witch costume. The kids’ shrieks are like drills in my eardrums, but I keep them hugged close and soon it’s replaced by laughter when they recognize Auntie Kaylee. I squeeze them tighter, just enough to distract them so they don’t notice Wraith until he’s right behind the bubbling cauldron.
His long hair flows freely and his chest’s bare. Bloody hand marks dot his skin, covering parts of his wild tattoos. I had a really good time feeling him up with the body paint, that’s for sure. He’s wearing a crown of sticks, and fake horns stick out of his hair, so he looks like some sort of terrible forest demon emerging from the smoky cauldron. “Raaaawr,” he growls, the rumble so deep in his chest you can barely tell it’s human.
“Holy fuck!” Izzy yells.
I have to stifle a laugh. It probably wouldn’t be as funny if it was my own kid, but hearing it pop out of her cute little mouth is hilarious. I know for a fact the moms do their best, but trying to keep kids from learning how to swear in a compound full of bikers is a bit like trying to bail the ocean with a sand bucket. Just the thought of that brings back memories of balmy breezes and white sandy beaches with the boys, but I’ll save that for later.
“Oh, he’s gonna eat you up! He loves little kids!” I shriek in my witchiest voice. “He’s gonna eat you all up!”
The kids wiggle and scream, but they’re laughing, even if Dante seems a little nervous at first.
“It’s just Wraith!” yells Liam and points, sounding very pleased with himself for having figured it out. “I know that tattoo!”
Wraith laughs and throws his hands out. “Guess you got me, kids. It’s a good thing that—what the fuck is that?” He points at a big stack of pallets.
Junk crashes to the floor revealing Tank with his arms out in front of him and walking like a zombie. I did my best with his makeup, coloring his face green and making it look as square as possible, then added a headband with fake bolts coming out of the side of his head. Holding a flashlight that gives him an eerie underlight completes the look.
“I… need… a… soul!” he yells. Pretty sure that’s not how the Frankenstein story goes, but the kids don’t know that either. As he shuffles towards them, they struggle in my arms, shrieking like little animals.
Then the double doors slam shut behind us, Nitro doing his part of the scene, so that it feels like we’re locked in with demon Wraith and Frankenstein Tank.
A sound comes from Dante that doesn’t sound so thrilled anymore, a little sob, and I wave a hand. Oh no. The guys stop immediately and Tank tosses the flashlight and the fake bolts aside.
“I knew he was a little young for this,” I say as I swoop him up. He buries his face in my black dress and peeks out from behind my wig. I pull my fake nose and big, black witch hat off to toss it aside. “It’s okay, Dante, it’s okay.”
“Dante!” snaps Izzy, with her most commanding big sister voice. She’s going to be a handful someday. Already is, really. “There’s candy! So much candy!”
His head perks up immediately, and after a final sniffle that sounds like he drew that lump of snot so far in it’s now in his feet, he starts wiggling until I put him down. “Don’t eat it all!”
“You can’t stop me!” She dodges deftly past Tank with an evil cackle before she stops in front of the chest and starts scooping the loot into her pumpkin bucket.
Liam’s right there with them, not to be outdone.
Tank puts his arm around my waist, and Wraith drapes his over my shoulder as we watch the frenzy ensue. The door opens again, letting in Nitro, Viking, Alessa, Emily, King and what seems like just about everyone else in the club, and their kids and old ladies. Now that the lights are on and the scary part is over, the toddlers are allowed to wander around, looking at everything with wide eyes. They probably won’t remember this, but they are old enough to know there’s something special going on.
“Look at those little fuckers go,” notes Wraith. “They saw right through my costume, though.”
I nudge him in the side, getting a smear of fake blood on my elbow. “If it makes you feel better, I think you make an amazingly sexy forest demon.”
Tank clears his throat.
“Yeah, yeah, and an amazingly sexy Frankenstein’s monster.”
“Mommy! Mommy! Look!” Dante sure got over his terrors fast. He’s holding up a gummy shaped like a witch. “It’s Auntie Kaylee!”
Nitro grins. “I’d eat that. You’re a pretty hot witch. Wanna see my wand?” He stops right in front of me, and puts his hand around the back of my neck so he can pull me close enough to whisper hoarsely right in my ear, “I hear it’s pretty fucking magic.” Then he lets go of me and smiles. “Right?”
I lick my lips and nod, knowing I won’t be able to stop thinking about that until we’re alone tonight.
It’s a pretty family friendly party for bikers, but I know later on there will be all sorts of crazy stuff going on in the clubhouse. Despite their sugar highs, eventually even the oldest kids are yawning and walking around kind of zombie-like. Emily and Wild Child take Liam, while Hero’s got Chloe slung over his shoulder. Bear corrals Izzy and Dante, while Viking carries a faintly snoring Matteo in his arms. And the babies have already been brought back to their homes a good while ago. Next year there will be even more, when Summer’s babies are big enough to bring out and celebrate.
“You know,” Tank says as the last of them clear out. “Things have changed around here. Didn’t use to be that the parties had to wait until after the kids went to sleep.”
We head to the clubhouse where Wraith goes to the bar to get beers for them and a coke with extra cherries—thanks to Jewel, not Chef, of course—for me.
He nods. “Yeah, no kidding. At least we’re still free and able to party.”
“Amen,” Nitro says and toasts with his fresh bottle.
I clink with my coke, biting my lip. No, I have to say something. “You know, about that…”
Tank looks at my bottle. “You want something stronger, Kaylee? It’s Halloween, you can treat yourself. Wraith just got you coke because that’s your usual.”
I shake my head. “No, I can’t.”
Nitro laughs. “Oh, come on, of course you can.”
“No, I mean, I literally can’t.”
Suddenly all the guys’ attention is completely on me. Wraith raises a suspicious eyebrow. “What do you mean?”
I wet my lips, a little nervous after their comments of freedom, but at the same time, it is what it is and I’m not going to change it. “I’m pregnant.”
Three mouths drop open and six eyes go wide as saucers. The party’s still going full swing, but it’s like the four of us are in a little bubble of silence, and it just drags on.
“Guys, say something. Anything. You’re scaring me a little.”
“Fuck yeah!” Tank exclaims and yanks me off my feet into one of his bear hugs, before he suddenly lets up. “Wait, fuck, can I hug you like that now? I don’t wanna—”
I throw myself back at him. “Pretty sure hugging is recommended in all stages of pregnancy.”
“Oh, thank fuck.” And then he squeezes me hard enough that I make a note to double check.
“I have to breathe, though,” I get out, beating him on the shoulder.
The moment he lets me down, I’m drawn into Wraith’s arms and given one of those kisses that had me melting for them to begin with. I clutch him back, digging my nails into his back, not caring that I’m getting fake blood smeared all over my witch’s dress.
Then Nitro’s pulling me off him. “Jesus, it’s bad enough that you guys got cool costumes and I got door duty. If I just stand here, I won’t a turn before the fucking baby’s born.” And then I’m in his arms and we’re making out like we’re on my doorstep thirty seconds before curfew.
“Everyone!” booms Tank, raising his beer high. “She’s fucking pregnant!”
The whole club is silent for all of a moment, and then everyone explodes in a massive cheer. Someone yells, “Congrats on the fucking!” which makes me bury my face in Nitro’s shirt out of embarrassment. I don’t know why. By this point, they’ve probably all heard us already.
“This calls for celebrating, don’t you think?” Wraith asks as he encloses me from behind, making a Wraith and Nitro sandwich with me as the filling.
I nod. “Definitely.”
“Good. Let’s go.” And then we’re all running to Tank’s room, which is fitting since that was where we were first all together.
No more tricks for us this year, but I’m about to get three big treats.
(c) Stephanie Brother 2023
