Rainbow (Ruthless Kings MC Baton Rouge #1) - K.L. Savage Page 0,40

event. I’m one lucky mother fucker.

I hold out my thumb as the cars pass, knowing damn good and well no one is going to stop since I’m covered head to toe in Mississippi River mud.

There’s a plus to all this. I’m closer to home than I thought. I’m around two miles away. If I wanted to, I could walk, but I don’t want to. I feel like I’m about to fall over.

“Rainbow? Dat ya? I can’ tell with all that shit on ya, mon amie.” A red beat-up farm truck pulls off the road.

I grin when I notice old Mr. McDonald.

And yes, he has a farm. He is our nearest neighbor at the clubhouse.

“Fuck, Karl. I’ve never been so happy to see someone in my life,” I say to him while walking around to the passenger side.

“What the hell ya doin’ out here? Weather supposed ta get’ real bad wit dis hurricane comin’.” His thick Cajun accent nearly makes it impossible to understand him. Still, since I’ve been around here for fifteen years, it comes naturally to me.

“Ah, you know, just going for a swim.” I close the passenger side door and lean back.

“A swim? In the river? Lord boy, ya need to think. Ain’t everything a damn jungle gym for ya to try to climb.”

“I know, Mr. McDonald, but you know me. I always want to expand my horizons.” I soar my hand through the air toward the sky.

The tires crunch and dip as they roll over the edge of the road from the dirt. Mr. McDonald spits chewing tobacco into a paper cup. “Ya gonna expand right to damn Jesus is what ya gonna do if ya keep going.” He whistles as his own hand slices across the cab and then points to the sky. “Ya got a brother to think of. Ya can’ be out doing crazy shit like that no more. Ya know he is a sensitive fella. He needs ya. He ain’t like the rest of ya, and ya know that.”

“Mime is strong. He isn’t weak.” Mud drips from the tip of my nose and onto my hand. Because Mime doesn’t speak, people think that he’s this sensitive being who cannot take care of himself.

“Ya know he is different and ya just don’t wanna admit it. Tha’s alright. Ain’t nothin’ wrong wit your brother needin’ ya. It’s why ya can’t go swimmin’ in rivers in a hurricane. Okay?”

I sigh and press my head against the window. The glass is warm, and the sulfur scent of the river fills the tight space.

Of course, the air conditioning doesn’t work because this truck is older than damn dirt and the windows are up because of the rain.

“Yeah, I got it, Mr. McDonald. No one gives Mime the credit he deserves. He is stronger than he looks.”

“Ain’t sayin’ he isn’t, Rainbow. I’m sayin’ the boy is sensitive. It don’t make him weak.”

“Can you please take me home? I have people who are probably worried about me.” I want to end the conversation. I don’t like talking about Mime. He is at the top of everyone’s list to talk about.

“Sure, sure. Didn’t mean to poke at ya nerves,” he nods, spitting into the cup again.

Listen, I’ve seen a lot of shit, and I’ve killed and tortured for the Club, but chewing tobacco is disgusting.

“No, you’re fine. I’m tired. I appreciate the lift, Mr. McDonald. How are the kids?” Mr. McDonald has five sons, and they all work the farm with their father. Pretty sure the youngest just graduated high school.

“Ah, they good. Workin’ hard. Nothin’ new. Think my oldest is going through somethin’. I know what it is, but I don’ know how to bring it up to ‘im, and he’s too ‘fraid to talk to me. I don’ like that. I want my kids to talk. Ya know?” He reaches for the spit cup again, and the tire hits a pothole, nearly causing the brown gunk in the cup to spill over.

I close my eyes and hum in agreement. “Well, what do you think it is?”

“It’s easy. He’s one of them gays.”

That has me snapping my eyes open. “What? Dexter?”

“Oh, yeah. He’s been gay since he could walk. I’ve always known it.”

“You don’t care?”

“I only care’n he feels like he can’t tell me.”

His statement has me seeing him in a new way. I always thought Mr. McDonald was a typical ‘stuck in his ways’ kind of man.

“Well, I’m dating a guy, and if I had a dad that knew,