I don’t want to be here any longer than I have to. I have something to do, someone waiting for me, and the faster I handle him, the faster I can get back to her.
He throws his hands up, welcoming a fight. That’s his first mistake. He thought we were gonna square up. I don’t give him the chance for a fair fight. My job is to hurt him. Which I do. I break his nose, and the feeling of bone crushing beneath my fist is so fucking satisfying that I don’t stop hitting him until he is unconscious. I pull his cut from his back and hand it to the secretary. He takes it with a nod of understanding.
“He is out bad. He was warned. Drop him off at his house and keep his bike.” I turn to the SA, who is still trying to stop the bleeding in his brow. Fear registers on his face when I pull out my knife. It isn’t me he fears, but losing his cut. That is one of the aspects that make him a good brother.
I cut the SA patch from him roughly and watch his eyes close. I put my hand on his shoulder, which is a show of high respect coming from me. I usually don’t touch anyone unless it is to hurt them. “Brother.” He opens his eyes at my words. “You are the new president of this chapter. You earned it. Don’t disappoint us.” I hand him the president patch and step away. “Appoint your officers. I will be outside.”
I send the two Prospects at the door inside to take care of the unconscious body of an ex-brother. It should have been a dead body. He told the club he handled something when he didn’t. The result cost the club money, time, and favors to the wrong people. The money, time, and favors were forgivable, the lie was not. A lie is a lie, no matter how big or small, and you don’t lie to your fucking brothers.
I prop up against the wall outside and pull a cigarette from the pack, noticing the blood covering my hands. I should wash it off, but I’ll keep it a little longer as a reminder.
Church is over before I finish my cigarette, and the new president of the Oklahoma City chapter joins me and hands me a beer. His brow has finally stopped bleeding. A piece of bloody gauze now covers the wound.
“Officers,” he says, handing me a piece of paper.
I finish my beer with him before calling Nationals and informing them of the new officers of the Oklahoma City chapter. Now my business is done.
As I mount my bike, I get a weird feeling inside of me. One that makes me wonder what has happened to the man I was only fifteen minutes ago. Right now, I no longer want to be that man. I’m ready to be that lust-struck puppet I was this morning when I woke up. The reality should be sickening but it’s not. Because right now, I just don’t give a damn.
—
We’re at a gas station, two days from Jackpot, when I get a call from Shady. I can tell by the gravity in his tone that his news is bad.
“We got a problem. Remember Chester?” Chester, a member of some riding club who I’d beat to death a few months back. The guy had it coming for disrespecting one of our Nationals repeatedly, but I knew there would eventually be blowback from it.
“What about him?”
“We discussed his brothers wanting revenge, so I’ve been keeping an eye out. One of them spotted you. He sent a message out on an unsecure line. They’re planning an ambush.”
I replace the nozzle on the pump, wondering why Shady was so worked up about this. It wasn’t the first time someone had threatened me.
“I’ll deal with it,” I say, doubting anything would happen anyway.
“Um, Dirk?”
“What?”
“What about Saylor?” Shit. Of course Shady knew she was with me. The little fucker knew everything. But his reminder has the hair on the back of my neck standing up. I had put Saylor’s life on the line. There was always a target on my back, and as long as she was with me, there was a target on hers too.
“Let me know as soon as you find something out. I’ll keep my phone in my helmet.” I hang up, watching Saylor as her smile fades when she notices the look on my face. We’d been talking more. I’d even explained my patches to her, and she had read me a poem from her diary. Two steps forward, three steps back.
“Something wrong?” I don’t want to lie to her, but I know she needs reassuring. I tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, leaning down to kiss the crease between her eyes. It’s the most intimate gesture I’ve given to her when we weren’t in bed. I feel her body melt and hear her sigh. She likes it and I know that my touch was all the reassurance she needed. And her smile was mine.
—
We’re on the interstate, rolling at a leisurely pace of ninety-five when I hear them. Seconds before I see them, my phone rings loudly in my ear. I flip up my visor, reaching in to open the phone. Shady’s voice can be heard loud and clear, even before I shut the visor to block out the sound of the wind.
“I just got confirmation, but I think some are already on you.”
“Some? How many are there?”