59 - Mezcal

*Even drunk, she wins at trivial pursuit. – Athos*
A Saints wake.
It was the last thing that Becks asked for. To accommodate the large crowd, the accordion walls were opened allowing for the largest space that was available in the ballroom. The bluish gray walls were illuminated by the canned lights that encircled the room. Pictures of becks sat on the round tables with pink tablecloths. A large two-line buffet sat in the middle of the room
Approximately two-hundred bikers had new tattoos covered with clear tattoo patches. Pink tattoos.
Most of the Saints along with most of the other bikers now had a pink tattoo. When Camille had moved to sit in the chair, Darkness sat down first and pulled her into his lap. When Dino was done with her wrist, he changed needles and moved to the other offered wrist. Contemplating the darker skin, he took the suggestion and used a darker pink and achieved the same look.
Camille currently sat in Darkness lap at a table in the ballroom. Her tears had finally subsided, and she sat quietly in the warm embrace. Stories of Becks flowed around her much like her own memories flowed through her own memories. Tammy stopped in front of her and Camille stood up and hugged the other grieving woman.
“I’m so sorry, momma T.”
“I know.” She hugged Camille close to her and kissed the younger woman’s hair. “I know that Becks would be proud of you. You did really good, and I know it was hard.”
“I hate when people see me.” Camille admitted.
“Which is why we think you deserve a shot.” Michaela held out a shot glass of clear gold liquid.
Yvonne took the glass from the other woman and placed it on the table behind Camille. “She doesn’t drink tequila.”
“It’s Mezcal.” Molly smiled as he handed over a shot glass with a similar pale-yellow liquid that had a worm in it.
“What’s the difference?” Michaela asked, watching Camille down the shot, worm and all.
“The worm.” Camille grinned as she bit down on the worm before swallowing it. “The type of agave plant. But I like the worm.”
“Wait, you’re not called Worm because you’re a bookworm?” Swamp Thang asked.
Chuckling, Molly hugged Camille against his chest. “She is a bookworm, but she really likes her mezcal worms. And can still win at trivial pursuit.” He added the long running joke, and she smiled at the memories.
The smile faded when she remembered that Becks would no longer be there to ask her trivia questions.
“I miss her, Molly.” Camille whispered as she wiped tears away.
“Me too, little pretty,” he buried his face in her hair.
Camille pulled back and pressed up to kiss his cheek, “Love you, Molly.”
“Love you, too, little Camille,” kissing the top of her head, he tucked her against his side and looked at the younger man. “You going to introduce us?”
Giving a small laugh, she shook her head. “Hell, no. I’ve got enough assholes cock blocking me.”
Molly tipped her head back as he gave a deep laugh. Smiling, he looked down at Camille, “Thank you, little pretty. I needed that.”
“You’re welcome,” she smiled back up at him.
His eyes moved to his women that standing nearby. “But just as a reminder, I have six women that I am married to. I’m the last person who will cock block you. Besides,” he winked at Camille as he looked back at her, “your brother has money on this one.”
“Seriously?” she stepped away and looked around for the Saint that she wanted. Finding him, she aimed a cold look at the skinny man with wire rim glasses. “BOOK!!!”
“Oh shit!” he declared as fear filled his eyes, and a few Saints expected to see him piss himself. “Oh, fuck me!”
Cookie gave a booming laugh from the other side of the large room. “Brother, you are too white and too small for that girl. She’s Team Black the whole way!”
Molly laughed at the Cajuns and this easy banter about Camille and her virginity. Camille gave him a look and he knew that she was just waiting for them to learn about Sid wanting her youngest to cash in her cards.
“That little cherry doesn’t know what she wants!” one of the brothers called out.
“Whatever, Trev knows what she likes,” another said, and the room was filled with laughter.
“Enough!” Toad called out as he placed his plate on the table. Once the room fell silent, he sat down between his wife and niece.
Peeking from behind his unwilling protector, Trevor, Book grinned at the blonde female Saint, “You do have a room upstairs,”
Toad stood back up and found himself joined by Trigg and Gator.
“Cher, sit down.” Came from Gator as the other two also ordered her to sit.
Defiantly, she crossed her arms and met her father’s eyes. Brute stood up at his table and cocked an eyebrow at her. “Worm,” the single word warning hit harder than any of the others did.
Brute was her godfather, her fellow lover of Mezcal and occasional cohort in crime. She sat in an empty chair, keeping her head angled down to prevent anyone from seeing the tears in her eyes.
“Athos,” Brute called, “you’ll stay with your sister tonight.”
“Yes, sir,” Athos gave a curt reply from his table with the other two musketeers.
Molly leaned down and kissed her cheek. “Talk to your mom.”
She gave a rough nod, fighting back against the tears that were still threatening. With her arms crossed and head lowered, she chewed on her nails as she got herself under control.
Lost in her own thoughts, Camille did not notice the shift in the men around her. Inside her head, she recoded one of the websites as she tried to get herself under control. The more she thought about it, the angrier she got, and her tears dried up.
Looking up, Camille saw her parents standing at the table. “Am I excused? Father?”
“Go,” Sid told her before anyone else could answer.
Camille stood up and took a moment to meet the eyes of the three presidents for the Devil’s Saints. The tension in the room was thick and filled with deafening silence. When she was certain that everyone was watching her, she let her cut fall and land on the chair.
She stepped away from the table and headed for the door. Athos and Porthos both stood to go with her. After kissing his wife, Aramis also stood. Shaking off Leo’s touch, Priscilla also moved with her friends.
All four of her closest friends dropped their cuts on the same chair.
“Athos,” Toad warned, “take your cuts.”
“Not until my sister is treated equally and not as a subservient.”
Athos met his friends in the elevator and rode it up to the floor that Priscilla was staying on. There were no words spoken between the friends on the ride up or the walk down the hall. Priscilla opened the door to her room and once they were inside, she locked the door. With the mechanical lock activated, she flipped the secondary lock and anchored the lock that she brought.
In silent solidarity, they waited for Camille to speak. She was angry, embarrassed and humiliated. And she had willingly drawn attention to herself.
A silent sob shook her body just before Porthos pulled her into his arms. He sat on the floor and leaned against the wall of glass that looked out over the brightly lit city. Her other friends joined them and sat nearby as she processed through everything.
“I’m sorry…” Camille finally said as she sat up. “It was just- wait, where are your cuts?”
“With yours,” Porthos admitted.
“Why?”
“The way they treat you is bullshit,” Priscilla told her.
“We wanted them to know that we don’t agree with it,” Porthos added. “No one is telling the rest of us to keep our pants on, or legs crossed.”
“Hell, there’s bets on how many that asshole is going to hook up with,” Aramis chuckled and motioned to Porthos.
“I’m saving myself for marriage,” Porthos assured them.
“And my mother doesn’t like it in the ass,” Camille replied dryly as there was a light knock on the door.
They all laughed at the statement as Priscilla stood up and moved towards the door. Peeking through the small hole, she gave a soft laugh.
“Speaking of the woman, herself,” Priscilla turned to look at her friend. “I can tell her to kick rocks if you want.”
Camille shook her head. “No, it’s fine. Let her in.”
Undoing the locks, Priscilla opened the door and let Sid inside.
Stepping inside, Sid looked at her daughter but kept her distance. “The presidents will be apologizing to you tomorrow.”
“Yeah, right.” Camille scoffed, “That’s not going to happen.”
Sid grinned. “Dom is pissed. Worse than I’ve ever seen before.”