by J, Bella
Not giving a shit about Crow’s attitude and goddamn dice, I rounded the table and walked right up to Manic, bringing my face inches from his. “Don’t do this.”
“It’s done.” He turned away from me, facing Onyx. “This is my decision, and I’m asking that you respect it.”
“You need to know that once you walk out that door without your cut, you can’t come back. This decision can’t be undone,” Onyx warned.
Manic nodded. “I’m aware of that.”
Jesus. I really wanted to punch everyone in the fucking face right now since it seemed like no one was thinking clearly. Everyone was acting like fucking dicks. Why wasn’t anyone losing their shit?
Crow placed the dice back in his jacket pocket. “Don’t worry, Kings, this doesn’t change our business arrangement.”
I snorted. “But it sure as fuck changes a lot of other shit.”
“Ink,” Onyx warned, “shut up.”
Manic turned away from me and walked over to Onyx, reaching out his hand. “You’re doing good, man. I knew you had it in you to run this crew.”
“You’re an asshole, you know that?”
Manic smirked, and Onyx pulled him in for a bro-hug, slapping his palm on his shoulder. “You need anything, you know where to find us.”
Manic nodded. “Thanks, man.” He faced Granite, who walked his way. “I owe this club everything.”
“Nah.” Granite shook his hand. “You owe us nothin’. You just go do what you need to do, okay?”
“Thanks, man.”
I wiped a palm down my face when Manic approached me, wishing there was a goddamn cliff I could jump off of right about now. “This ain’t right, brother.”
Manic scoffed. “Around here, that’s nothin’ new.”
He reached out, placing an arm around my shoulder. Even though I wanted to slap him on the head so he could wake the fuck up, I hugged him instead and whispered, “Why does Crow want you so fucking bad he’s willing to write-off my so-called debt?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.” Manic let go, taking a step back. The scar on his face moved as he narrowed his eyes, pulling his lips in a thin line. “I’m sure I’ll see you around.”
With that, Manic took a step back, and I watched him walk out behind Crow. It felt all kinds of wrong, seeing him leave without his cut, without his colors. But if I had to be honest and acknowledge the voice in the back of my head, I believed him when he said he wasn’t doing this for me. Well, not completely. Manic had a younger brother out there, and I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell he wouldn’t do anything he could to find him. The system fucked him up, his scar a cruel reminder of that. If he had half a chance of preventing the same happening to his brother, a guy he didn’t even know, he’d take it. And if there was ever anyone in a position to help Manic find his brother, it was Crow.
But at what cost?
The door slammed shut after Manic left, and the last ten minutes felt like it passed in a blur.
I roughed a hand through my hair. “What the fuck just happened?”
“I dunno.” Onyx sat down again. “But we just lost our second crew member in two days.” The despondent look on his face unsettled me. The entire fucking situation surrounding the Kings unsettled me.
“This ain’t right,” I mumbled, more to myself than anyone else. “What the fuck do we do now?”
Granite picked up Manic’s cut, the black leather creaking in his hands. “Now, we move on and do what we do best.”
“Yeah, and what’s that?”
“We come out on top and show the world why we call ourselves the American Street Kings.”
24
Ink
I stared at my cut, the skull and American flag patched on the black leather. To some, it was a symbol of anarchy, a bunch of savages who cared for no rules except their own. But to us—to me, it was the symbol of a brotherhood, a camaraderie of like-minded men who took care of their own. A family. Dutch was part of that family. In fact, to some, he was the heart of it all. He gave advice when needed, whether it was wanted or not. He protected, motivated, and inspired every one of us. He was always there when we needed him. Among us all, he was the least selfish, always looking out for the rest of us, putting himself last. His entire life revolved around us and this club. The American Street Kings. It was his life, and we were his brothers.
We’d buried far too many members through the years, but this one—this would be the one that cut the deepest.
“You ready?”
I took a deep breath and grabbed my cut before turning to face Neon. “I don’t think this is something I’ll ever be ready for.”
Her eyes were soft with sympathy as she approached me and wrapped her arms around my neck. I knew she grieved his death too. She felt the loss just like the rest of us. But she also knew that this time I wouldn’t be able to be strong enough for both of us. The guilt was too strong, and it was festering inside me, rotting further every time I thought about all the motherfucking what-ifs.
What if I killed Slither right there in Wraith’s room in front of Onyx?
What if I was there to protect Neon the day they took her?
What if I never took Neon down there to kill Slither?
What if I just fucking did things differently?
There were just too many variables that could have changed the outcome of all this. But there was nothing I could do now. My actions had been carved in stone, never to be erased or undone. Yet I couldn’t stop thinking about it—how Dutch would have still been breathing, and Manic would still have been wearing the American Street Kings cut if things had played out differently. But unfortunately, that wasn’t how things turned out. We lost Manic to the Sixes, and we were burying Dutch today.
I nestled my nose into her neck as I searched for a sliver of comfort in the familiar scent of her skin. “If I had just—”
“Stop. No one blames you, Ink.”
“I do. I blame me.”
“Don’t.” Her arms tightened around my neck. “All of us can go down that road. Every one of us could have done something differently that would have changed the outcome. Not just you.”
This time, I laced my arms around her waist, pressing her hard against my chest. “God, I love you, woman. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
She leaned back, brushing her fingers through my hair above my ear. “We’re the same, remember? We both live with the scars of our past.”
I pulled my lips in a straight line. “This ain’t scars, though. It’s a weight I’m not sure I’ll be strong enough to carry for the rest of my life.”
“You will.” She palmed my cheeks. “You will be strong enough because I’ll be right there next to you to share the weight. You hear me? I’m going to be there for you the same way you’ve been there for me.”
I reached out, grabbing a fist full of her hair at the nape of her neck, and pulled back, causing her to crane her neck slightly. “You’re the most beautiful part of my life, you know that?”
“You make me beautiful.”
Overcome with a whirlpool of emotions, I pulled her close and slammed my lips against hers, kissing her so hard our teeth clashed together. I needed her to not only hear how much I loved her, but to fucking feel it. To experience it. To live it every goddamn time I kissed her. Touched her. Fucked her.
Unable to ignore reality and delay the inevitable any longer, I let go of her lips and released her hair from my fist. “You gonna be okay?”’
“Yeah.” She took a step back. “Alyx, Wraith, and I are going with Dice in his car.”
I was relieved because the thought of her riding on the back of anyone’s bike but mine made my blood simmer. It would had been great to have her there with me, her arms clutched tightly around my waist. But today it wasn’t about what I wanted, or what she wanted. It was about showing respect and making this all about Dutch and the loss we felt as the American Street Kings.
“I love you.” I placed a chaste kis
s on her forehead.
“Love you too.” She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. It was going to be a hard day for all of us, and my only saving grace was knowing my woman would be waiting for me in this room once the sun had set on this dark day.
I walked to the door, my thoughts a scattered mess. But there was one thing that remained solid, one thing that would always remain unchanged…and that was my love for Neon.
I stilled as I reached for the doorknob. “You’re it for me, Neon.” I glanced over my shoulder. “Whatever curveball life throws at us, you’ll always be it for me.”
“Right back at ya.”
I smiled before I walked out. The weight on my shoulders would be heavy today, but I knew in my heart that with Neon at my side there wasn’t any obstacle we wouldn’t be able to face…together.
Once outside, Onyx and Granite were already standing next to their hogs, ready to face this grim fucking day.
I lit a cigarette. “Everyone okay?”
Granite nodded, but there was a crack in the stone-cold facade he so expertly wore all the damn time. The man’s heart was fucking broken because he didn’t just lose a crew member, he lost his best friend. A friend who died trying to protect him. It would be a long time before he’d be able to stitch that hole in his heart back together. Thank fuck for Alyx, to keep him grounded and to stop him from spinning out of control while he mourned. Grief wasn’t something Granite dealt with very well—none of us did. But when we buried his father, Granite almost lost himself and this club because he couldn’t deal. Dutch was the one who managed to pull him back and helped him get his shit together. Now he had his woman.
Onyx climbed on his hog, about to put on his lid when Manic came riding in on his Harley. Onyx and I looked at each other and then at Manic, who switched off his ignition and took off his lid. “Crow sent me to give you his condolences. He would have come personally but can’t risk attending a public memorial.”
Onyx shrugged. “Makes sense.”
Manic got off his bike, his expression somber and dismal as he sauntered toward Onyx. “Crow gave his permission for me to ride with the Kings today,” Manic licked his lips, “and to wear the Kings cut for the last time.”
Onyx narrowed his eyes. “Why would he do that?”
“He called it a way of showing no hard feelings. But if you ask me, it’s his way of showing respect and acknowledging what the Kings—what Dutch meant to me.”
Onyx glanced at me then at Granite. It was a silent way of him asking if we had any objections to Manic joining us today. If we did, we’d voice it. But we didn’t.
“Yo, Dice,” Onyx called. “Get this man a cut.”
The corners of Manic’s mouth lifted, and he merely nodded his appreciation before walking back to his hog.
Onyx gazed at the road ahead, and the moment seemed to last an eternity. God, it sucked. All the heaviness, and the loss we felt.
“I ain’t making no long speech today,” Onyx started. “But I will say Dutch will always be our brother. Life or death,” he shot Manic a sideways glance, “once a King, always a King.”
He started his ignition, and the rest of us followed. The thunderous sound of hogs filled the air. Loud, dominant, and fucking powerful. It was the first time since Stone’s death that all our chapters came together to mourn as one. To say goodbye to the man who dedicated his fucking life to the Kings. Dutch deserved that much. He deserved the respect everyone came to show him today.
Onyx, Granite, Manic, and I rode our hogs in front of the cage that transported Dutch’s casket. The rest of the Kings rode behind. It was a sea of black, the echo of hog engines heard far and wide. And while we cruised down the streets, we made sure every goddamn person saw our grief. We showed the people standing on the sidewalks that we were more than just criminal savages loyal to our insignia. We were more than men who ruined and ruled the streets of America.
We lived. We loved. We bled. And we grieved just like any other normal fucking human being.
While steering my hog behind Onyx, flanked by Granite, and Manic behind us, I felt the pain. I felt the emptiness of no longer having Dutch with us. But I also knew that come tomorrow we would pick ourselves up because everything was going to be okay.
Everything will be okay.
Epilogue
Granite
It was probably one of the last sunny afternoons before autumn struck with its brown colors and golden tones.
It had been six weeks since we lost Manic and buried Dutch. Six weeks since the Kings underwent a shitload of changes, including burning the body of our enemy—the man who had wreaked havoc on this club, hurting so many of our loved ones. To finally see his body burn, the flames swallowing him, leaving not a trace of him behind, was liberating. Like this heavy burden I had been carrying for so long had finally been lifted from my shoulders.
Ever since the day I buried my father, I had dreamed of this moment—the moment I’d be able to live my life in a world I knew was free of the evil that ran rampant in Slither’s veins.
I wasn’t naïve. I knew somewhere, sometime, we’d find more evil fuckers that crossed our paths. But we’d be ready, and we’d deal with it as a crew—as a family.
We continued with our business with the Sixes, putting our personal differences aside, knowing we needed the business. It was hard seeing Manic, who traded his hog for one of their signature black Ducatis, ride with them. But it was his life, his decision, even though we all knew there were a lot of factors at play—one of them, saving Ink’s life.
The Pythons had left town. Boa made it clear that Slither’s vendetta against the Kings was not something he had any desire to continue, so they went in their own direction, no longer a threat to us.
A lot of shit had happened, but judging by the smiles and laughter around me, I’d say we did pretty fucking well.
Just last week, Onyx announced we’d be getting a new, unexpected member to the crew. One that would poop and cry its way into all our hearts. Yup. Wraith was pregnant, and Onyx was going to be a dad. To be honest, that was something I never thought I’d witness—seeing my stubborn and trigger-happy little brother become a father. Although, the night after they broke the news, Onyx did knock on my bedroom door drunk out of his fucking mind, slurring his words while he kept repeating the same sentence, seemingly struggling to understand it. “I’m going to be dad. I’m going to be a fucking dad.”
Poor bastard seemed scared shitless.
Ink and Neon were doing great. Out of everyone here, Neon’s transformation was most noticeable. She went from broken victim to a woman thriving at Ink’s side. The one thing I learned from watching those two was to never give up. Ink never fucking gave up on Neon, and he never backed down once he realized what he wanted. It was going great for a while, and we were just getting used to seeing Ink coming out of Neon’s bedroom without a shoe being tossed at his head…until a week ago. Alyx and I were on our way to the kitchen when Neon’s door was yanked open and Ink rushed out, a shoe flying after him, hitting the wall as he ducked.
He looked at us, his eyes wide and confused. “Something tells me that’s not a normal reaction to a marriage proposal, is it?”
Alyx and I burst out laughing, and needless to say, we’d witnessed a few shoes aimed at Ink’s head, hitting walls instead since then. But, like I said, when Ink wanted something, he didn’t stop until he got it. I was willing to bet we’d be hearing wedding bells sooner rather than later.
“What you thinking about?” Alyx sat on my lap, wrapping an arm around my shoulder while one finger traced along the new VP tag on my cut.
“A lot of things. If you had to ask me a few months ago if we’d be sitting outside on a Sunday afternoon drinking beer and eating burgers, I’d say you’re full of shit.”
She snickered. “Yeah. Things were pretty insane there for a while.”
“That’s an understatement.”
The breeze ruffled her hair, and I tucked a strand behind her ears.
“You’re beautiful, you know that?”
“You remind me of that every day.”
“And yet your cheeks still flush every time I say it.”
She smiled, a sight I’d never grow tired of. Alyx’s light was the one thing that kept me grounded, giving me the strength I needed to push forward.
After burying my best friend, she was my anchor. She was the one who kept me from drifting away. Every night, when I made love to her, finding comfort between her thighs, I realized no matter what happened to the club or how many crew members we lost, one thing would never change. Our love for each other. There was no better feeling than kissing her, being with her after a shitty fucking day.
Alyx stared at Wraith and Onyx while they stood hand in hand by the grill. “She looks radiant. I guess the whole pregnancy glow thing is true.”
My chest tightened. It’d been so long since Alyx started taking care of her health, her weight. But it didn’t appear as if it changed her odds at ever having a child of her own. As her man, I could give her everything she wanted, except the one thing she longed for—the one thing her nature compelled her to long for.
“Hey,” I placed a gentle finger on her chin, turning her face my way, “maybe we should go see Doc. See if there’s anything, you know…anything we can do.”
“Are you serious?” Her crystal blue eyes beamed with contained excitement.
“Yeah. Just don’t get your hopes up yet. But if there’s anything we can do to make this happen,” I placed my hand on her belly, “then I sure as fuck am going to do it.”
“Granite—”
“I love you, ballerina girl. There ain’t nothing I won’t do for you.”
Tightening her hold around my neck, she placed her lips against mine, her excitement echoing in her kiss. I felt her body move against mine, every muscle tense with the subtle flex of her hips.
I nipped at her bottom lip. “How about we go start practicing?”