I repeat, no one knew a single thing to what this girl’s been through. I couldn’t even cut past the surface of what went through her head when she opened that damn package. When she caught sight of the cut––everything changed.
Everyone spoke up. Loud, crass men that thought that their word would determine fate, the war, the aftermath, and even the deaths of every son of a bitch that crossed their Prez’s daughter. It was such a raw taste of adrenaline that even I couldn’t stand for it. I was sick of it all. When Fist read the letter, I wanted to burn that damn box with a flamethrower.
I restrained myself as soon as Ashley spoke, repeating her father’s wise words. That’s when I realized it. She wasn’t shaking at all, in fact it was quite the opposite. As every man observed her and absorbed every word that left her mouth, it became clear that she hadn’t lost faith of her father’s values, or her MC’s law.
“The Reapers follow no man who poises himself as a God, therefore the old tradition of MC law is fool’s gold.”
Sure enough, Ashley was walking in her father’s footsteps when she spoke the words passed down by him. From the last words that left her lips, I could tell that she was twice as determined than these men combined to put these fuckers down. It wasn’t like anything I’d ever seen from her before and I felt like I recognized her from all those years back. She was no longer that beaten down girl that stumbled back into her home. There was a strength to her that resembled Fist’s and it let her stand on her own two legs in front of the entire MC. Even then, I saw her hands tremble as they were balled up in fists.
Turning my eyes away from her didn’t help me forget what happened in that changing room. If anything, it made me sit deeper in my thoughts than ever before. She trusted me on another level that not many of her friends could attribute to and I still––I still couldn’t control myself. She knew that now and if anything, she probably wanted answers. I had none to offer.
I followed her for as long as I could up until I tried to confront her after church. Despite my determination, I couldn’t do jack shit to comfort her. To make her know that she was safe so long as I was beside her. How could a man swear to protect someone close to him when he couldn’t even trust himself around them? Especially when she’s had everything taken away from her in life. Even when I tried, she turned me down to return to her thoughts. The only thing left to do from then on was to return to my own.
***
A week had passed since the Bears delivery. The time went by so damn slow I could’ve sworn I felt older with the sleepy drought of summer. I sent Dex out of the house to fetch me a new battery from Tex for the bike since the Harley wouldn’t so much as cough if I turned the key.
I sat next to the bike with the garage door open to let in the cool wind from outside. The white standup fan did me a huge favor in keeping the sweat off me but from the looks of the sky, it seemed like it was going to rain in an hour or so. With the back of my hand, I wiped away the salt from my brow and kept polishing the grime that settled on the bike’s exhaust. It hadn’t collected so much rust, but the dirt was so noticeable that I couldn’t take my eyes off it after taking out the battery.
Running my nail underneath the cloth, I could only shake my head as I stubbornly applied more effort into the polish. A couple of more budges and a good chunk of the dry mound crumpled out from underneath my finger.
“Blackjack, you there?” A voice called out.
I looked up from the exhaust to find someone approaching the garage. Squinting my eyes, I couldn’t recognize them immediately but as soon as I wiped my eyes I saw the old friend before me.
“Dixon,” I mutter in disbelief. “Where have you been all this time?”
The man that was now standing before me was the Sergeant-of-Arms of the club. He was a 6-foot something that wouldn’t be caught dead without his steel-toed boots. His hair was sleek jet black but that classic smirk was his trademark. With all his cockiness, he was a real James Dean in the making. You wouldn’t recognize him without a smile that could fill you up with a ton of doubt. With a smart head and a knowledge for every piece of metal we had in the community, you would’ve figured he would have been rooted to his home. Not Dixon, though. He’d been known for traveling around the U-S-of-A since he ran away from home at sixteen to see the Rockies. He’d been officially patched in as the Sergeant of Arms just a year ago, then flew free of the bird cage he called home – normally you wouldn’t just ride around North America being a main officer of the club, but Fist, that man let Dixon do whatever the fuck he wanted.
He and I were tighter than a clam’s ass in high tide. We’d seen rough days being in the club as long as we both had. From what I could recall, he was an ex-Marine that served a shit-ton of tours. I had a great amount of respect for that. Whenever we caught him for dinner or a barbecue, he’d tell us where he’d been. Great Britain, France, Germany, Belgium, Japan––oh, the places. Swore he wouldn’t settle down anytime soon so he could keep it up.
“Nowhere outside the U.S. this time, man,” he laughs, stroking the brim of his thick mustache. “How long have you been polishing that waste of space you call a bike?”
I snort, “Easy there, tiger. We’re not going to fire up this debate again.”
The man shrugged playfully. “All I’m saying is, you could’ve come to the dark side and got yourself a Triumph.”
“A Triumph Bonneville Bobber is the last thing I’m spending my money on, idiot.” I scoffed, tossing the rag back in its bucket. “It’s marketed for city college students and I’m not going to under appreciate myself by riding something that’s younger than my son’s future bike.”
Dixon cocked up a brow, “I’m going to ignore the fact that you ragged on my brand and ask you plainly what you intend to get your son that’s any better than a Bobber.”
I opened my mouth–
“And if it’s another Harley, I don’t want to hear it.” He cuts me off.
I shook my head with a smirk, “I’ll spare you the disappointment then. What do I owe the pleasure of this visit anyway?”
The guy’s lips thinned too suddenly, pursed in reluctance. He turned his head over to look behind him and asked, “Is your son home by chance?”
My brows furrowed, confused.
“No, is he in any kind of trouble?”
“Not exactly.”
Dixon turned his attention back to me and his expression didn’t change.
“When is he coming back, Rob?”
“Soon, why?” I respond with caution.
“We have visitors at the gate,” he spoke slowly, “You make sure your son doesn’t get to the entrance until they’re gone.”
“Who are we talking about, Dixon?” I step forward, fists clenched.
“Calm down, now,” He held his hands up. “It shouldn’t be a problem, but I just have to make sure––”
“Dixon,” I repeat, all the humor gone from my voice.
The man sighed and took his face in his hands, “Prez just told me, but I didn’t know your boy hadn’t gotten home yet. When the prospect reported them waiting out here, I didn’t even know that Ash came back.”
“Fuck,” I muttered under my breath.
There was no doubt about it. It was them.
War had walked straight up to our gates.
Chapter 9
Blackjack
After a good ten-minute walk across the path to the gate, I finally spotted them with my own eyes. Fist and my brothers were at the clearing with their backs turned at the gates, unafraid to step out of their comfort zone to approach them. Their bikes were waiting inside the fence, strewn to the side and waiting for their owners to come back. However, there appeared to be too much tension in the mood to expect such a quick compromise. Sixteen men stood on the opposite side of the gate.
The prospect was still sitting at his post, waiting for the word to open the doors. Whether those iron rails would be open to friend or foe, I didn’t know. There was a lack of distance betwe
en the two MC’s and where I was walking, anything could have gone down. Before I started walking to the meet up, I half expected to witness a bloodbath in the making but there was no such thing.
As soon as I was a couple of feet away from the gates, I slipped up to the prospect post and leaned against the wall, hand digging down my pocket for my phone. When I took it out, I thumbed in my passcode to check if I got a response from Dex yet. He was only nine, and yes, I’d bought him a cell phone. It was for exactly situations like this where I knew we’d need to be able to contact each other quickly.
Our text messages flashed up on my screen within the second. I scrolled my eyes down to the latest notice he sent and to my relief, he wasn’t on his way home back yet. Instead, he’d asked if I needed the battery ASAP since his friend Wade invited him to play Call of Duty.
I texted him back, “Sure, pick you up at 5.”
Not even a minute later and he had already responded.
“Can u pick me up at 8?”
If there wasn’t a club situation that I was grappling with at the gates, I would’ve said tough shit and told his ass to get back home, but I was inclined to let him have it. There was no guarantee this would be over by 5pm. Reluctantly, I ended up responded back “8pm it is” before sliding the phone back into my pocket.
That boy better not forget my battery at Wade’s house.
When I retraced my eyes back to the men standing on both sides of the gates, I couldn’t recognize a good majority of them from the distance I was at. I decided to kick off the wall and give the prospect’s door a good knock. From the windows, I could see that his gaze had been trained on the conversation at hand. It was just like Roach to listen in on matters that were way above his scale of authority.
I gave the door another knock, and sure enough, his eyes flash up to where I stood waiting.
“Oh,” He coughs into his hand, “What can I help you with, Blackjack?”
“Good afternoon, Nick,” I nod conspicuously, “You mind helping me with the gate?”
His brows furrowed, “I don’t think it’s a good idea to get involved at this rate, Rob.”
Amused, I cross my arms over my chest, “And why’s that?”
He stiffened in his seat before glancing up to the group once more, muttering something inaudible.
“What was that?” I interject.
“It’s not in your jurisdiction, Rob. No need for medics just yet.”
Jurisdiction? Did this green boy even know what the term meant?
“So, help me God, open that door before I get in there and do it myself.”
His mouth opened to say something but all it took was for me to turn the knob for him to come to his senses and flick the switch. The latch was released, and the gate door moved behind the men, interrupting their conversation.
“Thanks for that.” I give him a brief smile before starting through the doorway.
Ahead, the men had turned their heads past the brim of their shoulders to spot me coming down the pathway. As they shifted in their spots, I could see the opposing group clear as day. It was odd that the Bears were called animals when they had less hair than a premature boy hitting puberty. Very little of them carried beards or even chest hair given that they’d arrived bare chested, ready to prove the might of their men. The only exception to their strange contradiction was Grizzly himself who had enough hair on his face and chest to be a member of the bear family himself.
Before I stepped up to greet Fist, there had already been talks between Cracker and Grizzly. As soon as someone said anything about arsenals, I could’ve sworn I saw Fist’s body tense up all at once. I watched him carefully as I slowly approached him but luckily, he spotted me just in time to cool over.
“It took you long enough to join us,” Fist muttered lowly into my ear when I accompanied his side. “I take it you heard the news.”
I gave him a shrug as we listened to the other men talk.
“Dixon’s back which means our regular schedule is set to sail. What else is new?”
Fist pursed his mouth, “I’m not talking about that.”
My eyes came back to his and the soberness was back in our conversation.
“If you’re talking about my boy there’s nothing to worry about,” I finally respond. “Dex is with a friend. Won’t be picking him up till eight”
“Ah. Well, Ashley doesn’t know about this. That they’re here.”
That didn’t come off as a surprise to me.
“No need to bring her into this.” I told him.
“Not yet anyway.”
“Fist,” I gave him a look.
He put his heavy hand on my shoulder, “Boy, I don’t want it to come to that either. At this rate, it might be unavoidable.”
“Just what do you mean by that?” I whisper, anger building in the back of my throat. “Get yourself a lawyer, have him draw up the papers, hand the two of them a pen and they’re divorced. What’s so hard about that?”
“Blackjack!” A voice called.
I looked up from Fist to where the sound originated from only to have met eyes with the son of a bitch himself. Jack “Grizzly” Jones.
“My, my,” he drawls out, the intensity of his eyes widening at the sight of me. “Been a while since I’ve seen you out of the woods. Or should I say, out of Afghanistan?”
It wasn’t a secret that I enlisted into the military as trained medic. Despite that, I didn’t like Jack using that fact to put aside his bullshit and start small talk.
“Not long enough. You’ve grown old.” I respond coolly.
The remark caught him by surprise.
“Yeah, well,” he continues, laughing to himself. “It’ll take more than age to knock this Bear down.”
“What’s all of this about then?” I cut him off, sick of the bullshit.
“Blackjack,” Cracker says lowly.
“Well, it’s about time someone asked!” Grizzly roared in amusement, “Why is it that we decided to visit these parts on a Sunday afternoon instead of fucking our women until they scream?”
“Because my woman just so happened to run away from home.” Another voice joined him.
A figure approached the group, rustling right up from behind Jack himself. I’d put betting money any day that Fist would skin the man and send his hide to his sorry mother if he tried anything.
Grizzly may have been sly enough to avoid conflict up until now, but one thing was guaranteed. He was a coward anytime he was challenged by Fist to a hand on hand fight. Ever since his youth, nothing would change his mind to this day.
As Grizzly stood before Fist, the man of the voice finally revealed himself among the faces. Once I got close enough view to put two and two together, I realized Harry had joined this meeting as well.
“Harry,” I mutter under my breath.
“That’s right,” Grizzly chuckles lowly, “Years back, Harry and I came here to celebrate the wedding of his newly anointed bride.”
“After one little marital spat, she came running back home to her daddy.” Harry nods, “Can’t say I blame her.”
“Son of a––” I curse hard, kicking the dirt below me when my body lunged forward to grab him.
The man’s eyes widened as soon as I drew my arm under his jaw to snatch his collar. His hand came up to hold me back, but it was too late. A set of fingers clutched at his shirt and pulled hard till his head was forced to look up at me. My brothers around me saw it coming too soon and were already on me before I could draw up my opposite arm to punch the greasy smirk from his face.
He laughs nervously, “You’re a fucking animal, Blackjack!”
“Control your man, Fist,” Grizzly ordered.
Fist didn’t say a word, but I certainly did.
“Wipe that smile off your face before I tear it off here and now.”
The men were holding me back, but I was still forcing my arm up above their heads. Like the anger of a building volcano, my arm was reddening from the strain and inchin
g up to the sky with every draw of my heavy breath. Harry’s eyes followed its clenched fist, his doubt growing within the expression of his face. Here and now, I could kill the man.
I wouldn’t have any regrets wiping his scum off the face of the planet.
“BLACKJACK!” Fist’s voice shot through the crowd like a bullet.
He blew up my focus and just like that, my arm wavered for a brief second only for Cracker to grapple it back down to my shoulder.
“Calm down,” the man insisted beside me. “Not now. Not today.”
My breathing came down so heavy that it nearly washed away my anger. There was enough of that left in me to look down at Harry and let the rest speak.
“Come anywhere near her again, and I’ll fucking kill you.”
The man’s pulse was practically hitting my knuckles where they pressed into his throat. He didn’t move, but I knew he believed every word I said. The grip Cracker had on my arm lessened more and more and slowly, I put my arm down to hide with the rest of them.
I didn’t have anything left to say before I released Harry’s shirt and shoved him into the men watching behind him. He gave out a thick cough, trying his lungs to come back up for air.
“You have balls to come here, Harry Vale,” Fist spoke roughly.
After what felt like a long pause, Grizzly snorted.
“He didn’t come alone, obviously.”
“Good point,” Fist acknowledged before turning his attention back to him, “What is this really about then, Bear?”
“We’re here to collect the Bear’s property.”
“See that’s where you’re wrong.”
Fist automatically spat at the man’s feet.
“Ashley isn’t going anywhere. Her place is with her family.”
Havoc- Reapers MC Boxset Page 22