The Bare Bones (The Bare Bones MC) by Layla Wolfe

meeting minutes. “The system played you , brother. Payback’s a bitch.”
    Even Ford’s best friend agreed. “I second that,” said Turk. “Get all the benefits you can from the hell you went through. It’s just another veteran’s benefit, like medical or home loans.”
    Ford dismissed the idea out of hand. “I don’t need it. Leave it for the guys who are really hurting. What’s next on the agenda? I don’t think we have time to hit those Cutlasses who were riding through—”
    “But what if we need it, brother?” Riker’s flinty voice cut through like a diamond. He was tenacious, Ford had to hand that to him. He had also been a Marine. “These DOT contracts are fucking lucrative. You can lump sum it out and pad it with all sorts of shit. They don’t care. No one looks.”
    “Yeah,” several brothers echoed.
    Unusually, Turk backed up Riker. “You were on the task force that personally hunted down al-Zarqawi. You were all over al-Qaeda!”
    Ford was firm, too. He and Riker often locked horns in the running of their business. As Sergeant-at-Arms, Riker wasn’t even supposed to have any say in business. He was security, period. His ideas were boneheaded. He almost always chose the option where people got to kick the most ass, no matter the potentially disastrous outcome. “Forget it, brother . If you want to get certified as a woman-owned business then finish your sex change, but leave me out of it.”
    Riker’s pupils were like smoking bullets as he narrowed his eyes at Ford, but Cropper said calmly, “He’s got his scruples. We can’t argue with that. Next.”
    They discussed the Cutlasses for a while, but everyone was bored with that topic. Ford could tell they couldn’t wait to discuss Speed’s patching in ordeal.
    “We can make him wrestle with Ford,” Turk said. “Except they can use objects, like fluorescent light bulbs and weed whackers.”
    “Too dangerous. For me,” Ford added. He didn’t give two shits about Madison’s brother anymore. “If the bulbs break, I could inhale the mercury vapor. I say we make him sneak into the Cutlass’clubhouse and steal a pair of Doug Zelov’s skivvies. Off his sleeping body.”
    Cropper guffawed. “That’s cruel and unusual punishment, even for Speed. I say we turn his favorite Bone Licker into our personal barmaid.”
    Everyone liked that idea, but Gollywow pointed out that it didn’t involve any great sacrifice or act of valor on Speed’s part. They would do it anyway, but not as the main event.
    Faux Pas said, “We could tie him up, blindfold him, and force feed him vodka, chocolate powder, and strawberry syrup.” Everyone made gagging sounds, and Faux Pas added, “That’s how they hazed me when I was a college freshman.”
    “We can make him play Russian roulette,” suggested Riker.
    Everyone stared blankly at him.
    Finally Ford said, “Uh, doofus? Then he’d be dead?”
    Riker shrugged, like “So?”
    Several other ideas were floated, like perform fellatio on a baboon, give him the extreme piercing known as “The Chainus,” and tattoo him with Chinese symbols that mean “douchebag.” On his forehead. They were about to settle on Ford’s idea when Turk came up with an even better one, and they spent another hour honing the details of the plan.
    Even better, they would give Speed his initial instructions during the fish fry rally. Hundreds of people, hopefully including Madison Shellmound, would see Speed blaze off into the desert on his mission into the vortex.
    Everyone was in a good mood when Cropper finally banged the gavel and adjourned the meeting. Ford found himself walking next to Turk, who had to get back to his marijuana dispensary in P&E.
    “That vortex thing is going to slay him,” chuckled Turk. “Speed’s a true believer.”
    A lot of “woo woo” people thought that P&E was surrounded with energy vortexes, spirals of pure spiritual healing. Seekers conglomerated at these vortexes to chant, pray, and