The Nomad Series-Collectors Edition

by Janine Infante Bosco

  “Why are you telling me this now?” I interrupt, watching as she slices her eyes toward Wolf.

  “I’m not well, Lincoln and I’m in no condition to take care of you like you need. I need to get myself clean.”

  “I can take care of myself,” I argue. “I just need to figure out my next step.”

  “Lincoln, stop it!”

  It’s the first time she’s raised her voice since I showed up on her doorstep and it shocks me.

  “What if that man decides he’s not done teaching you a lesson after all? What if he comes after you?”

  “Then I’ll get what I deserve,” I reply automatically, believing my words.

  “No,” she whispers. “You’re going to go with Wolf.”

  “The hell I am,” I argue, glancing between them. “If I’m too much trouble for you, I’ll get out of your hair as soon as I take a shower but, I’m not going anywhere with this guy.”

  “You don’t have any money,” she reminds me. “You can’t keep living like this, Lincoln. Please,” she pleads. “Listen to me, Wolf will take you away from this life. He will help you get back on track, give you direction and keep you safe.”

  As much as I hate to admit it, she’s right…again. I have no money, nowhere to go and my mother is a junkie who is struggling to keep herself alive.

  “Your mother wants to help you, kid, and this is the only way she knows how. Give her a chance,” Wolf says.

  “Where will you take me?” I ask hoarsely.

  Looking at my mother, he answers my question, “I can’t take him with me to Brooklyn, Phyllis. It’s too risky. Cain left too many enemies flapping in the wind. The last thing we need is one of them getting wind that he left behind a son. I’m going to keep him here in North Carolina, at a charter up in Raleigh.”

  “Will he be safe?”

  He nods, eyeing me.

  “The president is a decent guy and it just so happens he’s taken a liking to my sister,” he grunts.

  “Your sister is the first lady of the club then?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he snarls, running a hand down his face. “More like a fixture in the clubhouse. She’s as useful as a light switch but, she’ll keep me informed on Linc.”

  “How can you be sure?”

  “Because I’m her money train and that bitch knows I’ll cut her off at the knees,” he retorts before turning his attention back to me. “Go get yourself cleaned up and let’s roll out of here.”

  “I didn’t agree to go with you,” I remind him.

  Pulling a new pair of underwear from the bag, he tosses it to me and laughs in my face.

  “The decision isn’t yours, kid, now for crying out loud put some clean shorts on.”

  Catching the underwear in my fist, I give him one last glance before turning my attention to my mother.

  “Please,” she whispers.

  With no other choice, I swallow and nod.

  Looks like it’s finally time to learn what being the spawn of Satan truly means.

  Or in my case, the son of Cain.

  -Two-

  LINC

  Two days later, Wolf found my mother without a pulse and a needle in her arm. One would think the news of my mother’s death would’ve annihilated me. However, I didn’t shed a tear. As callous as it sounds, I had no reaction whatsoever. I don’t know if it was because I was fresh out of tears or if I had become so numb to everything that I simply shut down. All I know for certain was my mother’s death was another tragic chord of a song I’m not sure I want to keep singing. Too bad the song is mine and I can’t find the balls to finish playing it. Instead, I’ve locked myself in a room and continuously pray for the world or rather the lone man taking pity on me, to forget I exist.

  I’m learning Wolf isn’t the forgetful type though. It’s been a week since he came charging into my life, five days since my mother’s passing and he’s still around. At first, I figured he was helping me out of respect for my mother. I thought he went out of his way to bring me to the Satan’s Knights clubhouse because of who my father was but, I’m not so sure anymore. With both parents out of the picture he could’ve taken off, left me on the streets to rot, but he didn’t, making it apparent that once he brings you into the fold and makes you part of his life, there is no escaping his devotion to you.

  The door opens to my room and I lift my head from the pillow expecting to find Wolf in the doorway. My eyes narrow trying to place the tall lanky guy wearing a leather vest. When I was brought here, Wolf introduced me to nearly two dozen people—none of which I paid much mind to.

  “Sin wants you in church,” he grunts, grinding his teeth as he glares at me. Staring at him hard, I process his order but don’t move. “You deaf or something? I said, Sin—you know the man who is letting your broke ass stay here free of charge, that guy wants you in church now.”

  Ignoring the judgmental asshole in front of me, I strain to recall the day I first arrived and the man who Wolf called the president of the charter. His face flashes before me. The slightly crooked nose that symbolized it had been broken a time or two and the piercing blue eyes I felt chilling my bones as he assessed me.

  “I’ve got it from here, Shady,” Wolf says, pulling me away from my thoughts. Shady glances over his shoulder at Wolf and crosses his arms, seeming to size him up.

  My money is on Wolf.

  “I’ve got orders from Sin to bring him to the chapel.”

  “And, I told you I’ve got it from here,” Wolf counters with a growl. “Now, get a move on, wouldn’t want you to be late for church.”

  Shady hesitates for a moment, turning his gaze back to me briefly before stepping around Wolf. Once out of the way, Wolf steps into the room and slams the door.

  “Fucking imbecile,” he mutters, shaking off the altercation as he cracks his knuckles and draws his attention back to me. Silently, his boots pad across the worn carpet bringing him further into the small room. I watch as his eyes slice to the untouched bag of food he brought me yesterday. With a shake of his head, he turns to the window and tugs on the string of the vinyl mini-blinds. The sunlight streams through the window temporarily blinding me and I hiss as I shield my eyes.

  “The coroner called me today,” he starts, keeping his back to me. My vision adapts to the daylight and my eyes fixate on the reaper on his back. “They can’t keep her in the county morgue, kid. If we don’t give them a decision, they’re going to put her in a pauper’s grave. Is that what you want?” he asks, finally turning to face me.

  The thought of burying my mother amongst the others no one gives a fuck about hits me and it’s the first time I feel any emotion over her passing.

  “No,” I reply hoarsely.

  “Then you gotta tell me what you want to do,” he says, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his vest. He takes one between his lips and pats his front in search of a light. “I’m headed back north in a day or two which gives us time to give her a proper burial. However, if you’re looking to cremate her, then I will start the process for you but, it’ll be about a week until the ashes are ready.”

  “Why are you helping me?” I blurt as he pulls out a book of matches and strikes one to light the end of the cigarette. Taking a puff, he peers at me before blowing out a billow of smoke.

  “I thought we had this conversation already,” he replies, sounding exasperated.

  “I don’t get it,” I mutter, shaking my head.

  “You don’t have to,” he counters. “But, if you stick around these parts and really take notice of the rules the club follows you’ll learn about loyalty and respect. You’ll start to understand they’re the driving force behind every honorable man.”

  “Another lesson,” I say, numbly.

  “The only one worth knowing,” he says, taking another pull of his cigarette. “Told you before, you need to wipe whatever that sick fuck told you from your mind.”

  “Easier said than done,” I argue, throwing my legs over the edge of the bed. Leaning
my elbows on my knees, I drop my head into my hands and fight with my mind not to relive the scene in the butcher shop. It’s a losing battle because no matter the time of the day, whether I’m sleeping or conscious, I see Savannah’s face. My stomach rumbles interrupting the gruesome memory of her hanging lifeless from the hook in the freezer, reminding me I haven’t eaten in days—a punishment I’ve inflicted upon myself.

  If she can’t eat, neither should I.

  If she can’t breathe, neither should I.

  If she can’t live, neither should I.

  “Jesus fuck, kid, you need to snap the fuck out of this shit,” Wolf warns. “You didn’t touch the food I brought you yesterday.”

  “I wasn’t hungry,” I argue.

  “Yeah, your stomach is singing a different tune,” he mutters, opening the bag he dropped off yesterday. Pulling out a sandwich, he unwraps the foil and shoves it at me. “Fucking eat.”

  Reluctantly, I take the ham and cheese sandwich he offers me and bite into it. At the first taste of food, I moan and before I realize it I eagerly attack the day old bread and deli meat like a savage. It disappears in five bites and doesn’t satisfy me at all. Taking the bottle of water from his extended hand, I guzzle it down my throat and swipe my hand across my mouth. My eyes meet Wolf’s and I nod my appreciation.

  Silently, I mull over my options regarding my mother. Burying her in a place I’m not sure I’ll stay doesn’t seem like the right thing to do and staring at an urn every day doesn’t seem too appealing either. I could spread her ashes somewhere. Maybe I could take her back to Tennessee, to the park she would take me when I was a kid.

  “I think it would be better if I cremated her,” I say finally, watching as he grinds the last of his cigarette into an ashtray. With a nod, he shoves his hands into his pockets.

  “I’ll make the call after church,” he replies.

  “You don’t strike me as the holy type.”

  “We all need religion, son, and not all of us kneel for the cross,” he says with a smirk. “Whenever the patched members of the club congregate they call it church and it takes place in the chapel of the clubhouse,” he goes on to explain.

  Finding it odd that this old converted warehouse has a chapel, I look at Wolf waiting for him to elaborate as I picture a darkened room lit by candles and decorated with saints made of resin.

  “Look, before we go in there and Sin rips into you, I wanted to go over a few things.”

  “What do you mean rip into me?”

  Rolling his neck from side to side, he lets out a heavy sigh.

  “They’re letting you stay here as a favor to me, Linc. They don’t know who your father is, and it’s better if we keep it that way,” he warns, settling me with a stern look.

  “I thought my father was some big shot in your world,” I mutter.

  “Your father was the president of my charter. He wasn’t a big shot—he was the fucking king of Brooklyn but, your old man fell off his throne and he took the whole fucking kingdom down with him. A lot of blood was shed, a shit ton of enemies were made and if he hadn’t died someone would’ve likely killed him.”

  Makes a bit more sense why my mother called him the devil. However, it makes zero sense why Wolf or anyone else would want to help me.

  “I mean it, kid,” Wolf reiterates. “The less who know the truth, the safer you’ll be. Now, I know you got some death wish or something but, that shit ain’t happening on my watch. You’re going to straighten your life out and when I’m fucking old and can’t find my dick, I’m going to call you to help me take a piss. You’ll be my personal aide and we’ll be even.”

  “Sounds like something to look forward to,” I mutter sarcastically.

  Wolf’s lips quirk slightly as he cocks his head to the side and stares at me.

  “Well, I’ll be damned, you might actually have a personality,” he marvels. Pulling his hands out of his pockets he clasps them together. “Let’s get this over with before Sin kicks you out on your ass and I have to shoot him in the dick.”

  Reluctantly, I force myself to my feet and follow Wolf out of the room. As he leads me down the hallway briefing me on what I should expect, I partially listen as I acknowledge my surroundings for the first time since I’ve arrived. The red walls look as if they’ve been freshly painted and the bar that spans the length of the room is fully stocked. There are wooden tables and chairs scattered throughout the large room along with a few leather sofas. Towards the back sits a pool table, making the warehouse look more like a bar.

  Beside me, Wolf comes to a stop and I turn my attention to him as he juts his chin toward the pair of wooden doors that are partially open. Above them hangs a sign that reads Satan’s Chapel. He walks in first, holding the door for me and once I step into the room, every man with a reaper on his back turns their attention to me. Feeling like I’m under a microscope, I focus on the one man sitting at the head of the table who summoned me here.

  “Sit,” he commands, pointing to the only two vacant chairs left. Wolf shuts the door behind me and we both make our way toward the table. Sitting, I cross my arms and glance around, taking in all the strange faces. I drink them in just as they do me and I wonder how I will fit in amongst them—if I even want to.

  Sin slams his gavel against the table, drawing every pair of eyes back to him. He glances between me and Wolf before finally settling his gaze on me.

  “Before we get down to business, Wolf is leaving in two days and has asked the club to provide protection for this kid and give him a room until he gets on his feet,” he starts, leaning his elbows on the table.

  The man sitting to Sin’s left turns his attention to Wolf.

  “He yours?”

  “No, but, I’m asking the club to treat him as if he is.”

  “We’re not in the business of giving free rides,” the guy counters, causing me to glance at the patches on his vest. “This ain’t no charity.”

  Wolf’s jaw clenches as he rolls his neck and slices his gaze back to Sin.

  “He ain’t afraid to work, isn’t that right Linc?” he asks, without looking at me. Wondering when we shortened my name to Linc and if I like the sound of it, I lean forward as everyone watches me closely. I don’t know what kind of work they’re talking about but, I’m no slouch. There isn’t much I wouldn’t do to earn a buck.

  “I’m not afraid of getting my hands dirty,” I say finally to the room full of leather.

  “Famous last words,” Sin mutters, leaning back in his chair. The leather stretches across his arms as he crosses them and eyes me. “Wolf’s told me some about your situation,” he adds.

  “What situation might that be? That I left home at sixteen with my girl? That we lived like paupers for a year before I started gambling or that I got in over my head with a lunatic who murdered her? Wait, I know…he told you I watched him chop her up.”

  “Jesus,” one of the men growled.

  “Linc hasn’t had an easy go of it and like I told you, his mother just passed. He needs a place to stay in case this motherfucker should decide he isn’t done with him. I’m not saying to make him a prospect but, if you need someone to serve drinks at your clubhouse parties or shine your bikes, give him a shot,” Wolf says.

  Shine bikes and serve drinks? I guess it’s better than sifting through dumpsters. With no other choice, I sat back and let a bunch of men I didn’t know decide my future.

  The vote was unanimous.

  I was not only going to be taking up residence in the Satan’s Knights clubhouse but, I was also their official errand boy.

  A steep fall from my father’s mighty throne.

  -Three-

  LINC

  Brooklyn, New York

  Age 26

  Good and evil exist within the bounds of a person and one does not harm those who have not sought the destruction to man. His lot, his life, his freedom or his happiness. They say we’re the rulers of our destiny and sin is a choice. Maybe for you that’s true but, for me
, the same rules don’t apply.

  Born into a life I didn’t ask for, with the spirit of Satan trapped inside of me and his blood pulsing through my veins. I’ve spent most my years walking in his shadow paying for his sins. Something I didn’t realize until I was nineteen-years-old and prospecting for one of the most notorious motorcycle clubs. After spending a year hanging around the Raleigh, North Carolina charter, and another prospecting, I became a full-fledged member of the Satan’s Knights MC. It was during those early years when I learned there was no escaping Hell. It was alive inside of me. Its ember flames were the foundation of my soul.

  Being part of an outlaw motorcycle club only reinforced the painful knowledge that I was not invincible. The days of believing in luck died along with Savannah and I wasn’t in control of anything—certainly not my own life. My path had already been mapped out for me and anyone who came into my life would be a victim of my destiny.

  No one associated with me would ever be granted a pardon.

  Not my newfound brothers or the girl who somehow wormed her way into my life and into my bed. The girl who got under my skin and wrapped herself around my black heart. That girl would suffer the most.

  Maybe there wouldn’t be a man like Sally waiting to make a dress out of her skin but, there would be something. Someone. Another ruthless villain who took her away from me and made her suffer on the cross for my sins.

  After Savannah I thought I’d never feel again, that I’d never look at another woman and want my whole life to revolve around her.

  I was wrong.

  Again.

  It was becoming a pattern and so, the decision to leave North Carolina was relatively simple. It was finding the courage to walk away from the greatest thing I’d ever known that was hard. It was waking up next to waves of pink hair and leaving her sprawled between my sheets that was the problem. I knew I had to cut her loose but, every day I found another reason to stay.