Pigpen's been tearing through the cabin, the yard, the clubhouse like a toddler on the warpath.
And if by some miracle he did manage to start the truck, Pigpen and Dust would stand around it like human cement pillars.
Besides me, Pigpen is the youngest guy in here and then there's Eli.
I already texted Pigpen and Dust and they're heading with us.
Pigpen and Dust have already told me, multiple times, that lots of brothers are ready and willing to buy me as many beers as I can drink tonight, tomorrow night, forever.
Pigpen pushes off the wall. Won't be far.Which means he'll be outside the door, standing guard.
The blonde checks out the legs of the car like Pigpen checks out the legs of my English teacher--like a dog in heat.
Took her [Ms. Whitlock] long enough to grade it. He mumbles.True. But it took us forever to turn it in. She didn't have to accept it was from, she didn't have to let us write it together and she didn'...
Two motorcycles rumble in behind me and park in open spots. It's Pigpen and Dust. They're part of the volunteers tailing me and Violet until we're safe.
Which is great, since my English teacher hates late students like I hate riding my motorcycle in forty-degree weather while it rains.
[-] Pigpen rounds to face the crowd. Like a lot of brothers in the club, he's ex-military. The voice of the six-two, massive former Army Ranger rumbles against the walls. If you ain't a brother, clear...