Edge’s POV
By eleven-thirty Saturday morning, the clubhouse barely looked like the clubhouse.
Black and gold decorations were everywhere.
Tables had been moved around.
Food covered damn near every available surface.
With a big cake sat off to one side with a gold 50 stuck on top.
Biker nice. Is what my mom called it.
Still a clubhouse.
Just one Mom had gotten her hands on.
Vina stood beside me, fixing the collar of my shirt.
“Stop moving.”
“I'm not moving.”
“You're moving.”
I looked around.
Brothers and family were already coming in. Chain and Nettie.
Train and Sonjia. Iron and Tootsie. Trident and True. Snake, Nox, Timber and plenty more.
Dad stood near the bar talking to Riggs.
Mom was directing people around like she'd been elected president for the day.
Some s**t ne
