We were then standing in the garage, all in our leather cuts, looking out to the night. And it felt really good. The town was falling apart. The economy never recovered and we were basically the runoff for the city shit. But the town still had purpose. People needed to be protected and we were going to do it.
All of this fire kicked up inside me because I had seen Ana again. Somewhere inside me I had secretly hoped she would end up out of this place. Find a decent enough guy who would support and give her everything she ever wanted. But she stayed in town. She was trapped.
“What now?” Matteo asked.
I took one last leather cut out of the closet and walked it to the empty chair. I draped it over the back and stood there. I saw the look on everyone’s face. We all grew up together. From grade school until now. That’s what made us so fucking tight. Elijah used to wear glasses. In first grade, some prick called him four eyes. It was right after his mother died. His father was an alcoholic and treated Elijah like a punching bag. Elijah took a swing at the kid and the kid then grabbed Elijah’s glasses and took off. I chased the asshole down and beat him senseless. From that moment on me and Elijah were best friends.
We all had stories like that, including King.
But there’s another time to talk about that.
“Our brother is sitting in a cell right now,” I said. “He’s waiting for the rattle of the keys to open his cell door one last time. Then he’s going to be taken from us. From this world. Who knows what comes after the mortal outlaw world… but I know this - King isn’t sitting there down on himself. He’s not worried about getting out. He knows we’re here ready to keep this club alive.”
Just like that, the Reap was back in serious business.
I had a high rushing through me.
That decision, however, ended up being a serious mistake.
We split up to all deal with separate issues. A couple guys wanted to get to the strip club and set up shop. Slam and Matteo had a meeting with a representative from another crew to work out a deal to move a shipment north.
I ended up on my own, on the streets, thundering into the midnight darkness, feeling free.
It was five minutes into the ride when I spotted the car behind me.
I knew it was nothing but trouble.
See, right then, some guys would have taken off. They would have found a way to make a call and get a group together to work things out. For me, I didn’t give a shit. I wasn’t afraid of anything. If someone needed me, they’d get me. Face to face.
My old man used to tell me my attitude and cockiness was going to bite me in the ass one day. Granted, it had bitten me many times in the ass.
That night… my ass was about to get chomped on.
chapter eleven
(knox)
THEN
I was on borrowed time still living in the house. Hell, I was more of a squatter than a resident. I wasn’t sure whose name the house was actually in, not that it mattered. My mother was long gone and the old man slept at the clubhouse every night. I had a spot at the clubhouse myself, but being in the apartment kept me close to Ana.
Soon enough the house would be taken by the bank and the locks would be changed. Then I’d be able to just cruise by on my motorcycle and see a standing memory that contained more memories than I’d probably share with anyone.
I opened the fridge and it was basically empty. There was beer on the door and a six pack on the shelf. That was it. As a kid, I knew we were poor but I also knew the fridge was never this empty.
I grabbed a beer and walked to my bedroom. I stood at the window and looked across the yard. There was no light on. Figures. Shit, it was well after midnight so I was sure Ana had to be sleeping. She was doing all she could to save up and move out of the apartment herself. Things between her and her mother were reduced to nothing. They relied on each other to survive and that was it. Part of me wanted to be pissed at my old man for sleeping with Ana’s mother. But that’s what the old man did. Plus, it wasn’t my business to get involved in someone else’s bedroom business.
I drank the beer and put the empty bottle on the nightstand. I had a nice collection going there. Shit, if the old man or anyone in the MC saw me like that, they’d beat my ass senseless. It was pathetic to live that way. The clubhouse had everything I needed, including women. But I knew what I wanted and I stared across the yard at the dark window, thinking about life. At that point in my life, I thought I was old enough to know everything. Hell, I was old enough to legally smoke, drink, and I had enough crime committed under my belt that one slip-up would have me sitting in a cell for the rest of my life.
I was so wrong about all of that though. There was never an age considered old enough to know everything. The calm seas of hell were only a break before the next storm.
And the next storm?
Well, she was standing behind me.
“Knox?”
The voice was almost a whisper, angelic, like a perfect musical note to sooth my bubbling, hate filled soul.