57 - Vegas Arrival

*I’m not ready to live without my Becks. – Molly*
The long ride from Baton Rouge to Las Vegas was made even longer by an unexpected ice storm that closed roads and kept them in Texas for an extra day. Thankfully, the remaining hotels were willing to accommodate the group and shifted the reservations by one day.
Darkness was grateful that Roscoe was such a good fabricator. The five-day ride was made better because Camille was wrapped up around him. Tink lay behind her on his padded seat with a fitted suit on him to block the wind and keep him warm.
They rolled into the hotel parking lot and found the area where all the bikes were being parked. Giggles, Law and Leo, along with some prospects from each of the Saints’ clubhouses, directed them where to park. Their five support vehicles were pointed to where the other support vehicles were.
Walking the bike into the spot that Giggles pointed to, Darkness rested his gloved hand on Camille’s leg. She reached down and covered his hand with hers and rested her now helmetless head against his back.
Gator and Zydeco insisted that the younger brothers took their helmets, and they objected. But were happy they had them when the temperatures dropped near freezing and were made even colder by the wind.
Darkness walked into the hotel with a protective arm around Camille’s shoulders. She had clung to him after he broke the news to her. He had not left her side since then. She sat in his lap when she called her coach and professors to explain that her other mother had died. And then she did not correct the belief that it was her stepmother.
Every night she whispered the same plea to him. “Stay with me. I don’t want to be alone.”
He did not have the strength to tell her no. They would lay in bed and talk for hours. In the early morning, she would slip off to sleep. A few hours later, she would begin to stir. Pulled close to his chest with a sheet between them, Darkness would make her lay there and relax.
The only problem that he could see was that he would never be able to sleep without her. He slept better. She slept better. Each of them slept a little longer than usual. It was something that he refused to think about.
“Worm!” a man called off to the side and then she was pulled away from Darkness and into a tight hug.
Porthos grinned at Darkness who gave him a headshake. Tink was not familiar enough with him and he gave a low warning growl. At the same time, Darkness and Camille told him “*Ruhig*,” ordering him to calm.
“Get your hands off my daughter and give her back to her man.” Trigg ordered as he approached.
With a defiant smile and gleam in his eyes, he shifted her so that she was tucked up against his side with his arm tightly around her shoulders.
“Sorry, man. Didn’t know anyone was smart enough to grab this one up.” He said, offering a hand.
Darkness took the man’s hand. “I was smart enough.”
“I wouldn’t say that.” Trigg said kissing his daughter’s cheek. “I still haven’t seen you on my doorstep.”
Sid smacked the back of his head. “Not the time.” She hugged Camille and then Darkness. “Thank you for bringing her.”
“I told you I would bring her home anytime.” Her future son-in-law reminded her gently.
“Thank you.” She kissed his dark cheek. Stepping away, she looked at the younger version of herself. “Priss and the other musketeers are upstairs.”
“Thanks, mom.” She whispered.
“Come on, Worm.” Porthos held out a hand for her. “I’ll take you up.”
Camille took his hand, but turned and kissed Darkness. “I need to go see her.”
He gently trailed his fingers down her cheek. “I know. I’ll get our room.”
She kissed him again before letting her friend guide her to the elevator. Vaguely, Camille heard Trigg ask Darkness if he was still sleeping on the floor. Which was immediately followed by him declaring that his wife wanted more grandchildren. They turned around in the elevator just in time to see Sid smack the back of his head.
“Woman!” Trigg yelled rubbing the back of his head as the elevator doors closed.
Camille and Porthos looked at each other before they burst out laughing. Keeping her hand in his, he draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in close. The low warning growl had him look down at the very vocal Doberman.
“Your dog looks like he’s going to eat me for breakfast.”
“Tink.” Camille laughed. She said a few things in German and the
The doors slid open, and they walked out into the hallway.
“Soooo… am I breakfast?” he teased as he unlocked the door to the room that he and his friends were sharing.
“No. He already ate breakfast.” Camille said and then rushed over to Priscilla. “I’m sorry, Priss.”
The two girls clung to each other as they cried. The five of them sat on one bed, huddled together. Tink lay close to his mistress, and she always kept a light touch on him.
Athos got up and grabbed them each a bottled water and himself a beef jerky stick. After distributing the bottles, he opened the jerky and offered a piece to Tink.
“Really dude? You growl at me? But he has food and you’re all friendly and shit?”
The others laughed at Porthos.
“He knows me.” Athos said, offering another piece. “And he loves beef sticks, belly rubs and good boy scratches.”
“Food will get you everything you want with a boy.” Priscilla smiled. “Momma Becks used to say that the easiest way to win a man was to cook for him.”
“Quickest way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.” Aramis said and both girls laughed.
“Eight-inch blade between the ribs.” The two girls said in unison.
“I’m going to miss her little comments.” Priscilla said and Camille agreed.
“Chocolate and friends can fix any problem.” Camille smiled. “Unless it’s a man.”
“Then you need a shovel and an alibi.” Priscilla finished with a smile, then it fell, and her eyes filled with tears. “I still can’t believe she’s gone.”
They reminisced for a while about Momma Becks. They each had stories about her. She had a quiet presence about her. But she was quick-witted and could hold her own. Verbally and, if needed, physically.
“Do you remember when she taught us to play cards?” Athos laughed.
“Forget that!” Porthos laughed. “Think about how pissed off Cookie was when he realized that he no longer had a guaranteed win!”
“Molly!” Camille imitated Cookie. “You’re about to see a black man cry!”
“Speaking of black men…” Porthos wiggled his eyebrows causing the others to laugh. “Cash in that v-card yet?”
“No.” Camille said quietly.
“He’s an idiot.” Aramis said.
“Ten bucks says he’s in love.” Athos offered.
“You should show them your shoulder.” Priscilla smirked.
With her jacket on the other bed with the others, she pulled up her purple LSU t-shirt over her head and leaned forward so that the boys could see her fairy tattoo.
“Damn. Dino said he gave you a tat, but damn.” Athos said inspecting the artwork.
“What’s up with this Cajun Girl?” Aramis said of the tattoo on her hip. It was an outline of Louisiana with *Cajun Girl* written across it.
“Kind of like my DS,” she explained. “I can’t have actual patch tats because they can be considered gang affiliation. Hard to hide when you wear a skimpy swimsuit and change in front of the team and coaches.”
“Your dad know about it?” Aramis asked.
“Yes. He’s the one that told Gator I was patched.” She sat up and pulled her shirt back on.
“I want to go out. Go to one of the clubs that momma Becks used to go to.” Priscilla said quietly. “The one she met dad at.”
“Is it still around?” Athos asked.
“I’ll call Mary and find out,” she grabbed her phone. Ten minutes later, she had an address and a promise that the old friends of her mom would meet them there. “Let’s go get our men and Meagan. Athos, you and Porthos can be each other’s dates.”
“Fine. But he’s wearing the dress.” Porthos said and they all laughed.
“That’s because you know that I have the better-looking legs,” Athos stretched out his leg and pulled up his pants leg.
Priscilla leaned over and caressed the muscular calf. “That’s so sexy, it would be better if you let us wax it.”
“Hell, no!” he jerked his leg back. “My hair still hasn’t grown back from the last time you assholes waxed my legs.”
“Dude!” Porthos laughed. “How many times have they waxed your legs?”
“I refuse to answer on grounds that my ego will not survive.”