by Jessie Cooke
It was in those words that Dax heard how truly young Cody still was. Not just physically; Dax had known many men who went inside as adolescents, came out as legal adults, but somewhere along the way, their development had gotten arrested. Cody was still sixteen years old emotionally, and Dax was afraid of what he’d do when his heart was ripped out of his chest. “How’s her dad?” Cody asked, desperately reaching for something about Macy to talk about, Dax thought.
“Tank’s good. He’s as ornery as ever. Pissed at the world that he can’t ride anymore. He stays busy fixing things on the ranch.”
Cody was quiet for a few minutes and then he said, “I met a guy from a club out in Cali while I was inside.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. They’re called Cen Cal Commies. You ever heard of them?”
It was Dax’s turn to raise an eyebrow. That club’s reputation stretched all the way back east. They were the kind of hard-core that old Hawk had been trying to make his club, the Sinners. The kind of hard-core that Dax had been trying to get the Skulls away from. They dealt in anything and everything that would turn a profit, and last Dax heard, they’d expanded their territory from the Central Valley all the way up north above Sacramento. “Yeah, I’ve heard of them. What’s the guy in for?”
“He was in for trafficking and weapons charges, and he assaulted a couple of police officers when they arrested him.”
“What was he doing in prison in Massachusetts?”
“He was picked up just outside of Boston. He was only seventeen at the time. He did eight years and got out a couple months before I did. He’s kept in touch. Cool guy.”
“He’s not the kind of guy I’d recommend you associate with if you’re planning on staying out of prison.”
Cody chuckled. “Thanks, Dad, I’ll remember that.” Dax shot him a sideways glance. This kid was definitely going to cause him some trouble. He’d been kind of enjoying the peace and quiet the past six months or so since the war with the Sinners ended and he’d been concentrating on legitimizing their businesses, and on Angel. He gave Cody another glance. The kid was staring out the window now and Dax couldn’t help but notice how young he looked. He was still young enough that this didn’t have to destroy his future. The problem was going to be convincing the kid he wanted one…outside of the club.
2
Cody was anxious. Dax always made him anxious. He didn’t know why exactly. Dax had always been nothing but good to him, and to Keller before he died. He was the only person who kept in touch with him while he was locked up. His best friend, Jimmy and the girl he thought he was in love with, Macy, had both turned their backs and walked away. Maybe that was why Dax made him so anxious. If Dax ever walked away, Cody would truly have no one.
He was coming out of prison an entirely different person on the outside. He was six foot two and two hundred and thirty pounds of solid muscle from two hours of exercise on the yard every day, rain or shine. He had tattoos on his chest and arms, and his blond hair was just beginning to grow back. He didn’t have any facial hair at the moment, but it grew fast and by tomorrow he could have a mustache and beard. There was nothing but a shadow of the kid who had gotten locked up, at least physically. That anxiety-ridden, short-tempered, angry-at-the-world little boy still lived inside his head, though. He’d learned to control him in order to survive, but he still threatened to come out and play sometimes.
Dax turned onto the road that led to the ranch. As he pulled up to the guardhouse an older man with long gray hair stepped out and started to wave Dax on, but then he spotted Cody and his face broke out into a grin. Dax stopped and rolled down the window for the old guy. “Well, I’ll be a son of a bitch! If you don’t look just like…” He stopped himself there. He suddenly realized that being told he looked just like the SOB that had ruined his life was probably not what Cody wanted to hear. “How the hell are you, son?”
Cody smiled and held out his hand. “I’m great, Puppet. How the hell are you?” The old guy shook Cody’s hand. Cody couldn’t help but notice how some of his fingers stayed curled, like he couldn’t straighten them out. He wondered if that happened to every old biker. Too many hours with their fingers wrapped around the handlebars.
“I couldn’t be better,” Puppet said. “We’ve got a hell of a president right here. He’s turned this club around in ways you won’t believe. We’re happy here now. I hope you will be too, Cody.”
Cody smiled and gave him a nod. He wasn’t sure that “here” was where he wanted to be. For now, he had nowhere else to go, but California was calling to him and he just might go check it out, after he saw Macy. There was something else he wanted to stick around on the East Coast for too…something he was sure that Dax would try and talk him out of if he knew. But Keller had been all he had, and that son of a bitch that ordered the hit on him was still walking free…and that ate away at his very soul.
Dax drove toward the clubhouse and as he parked the car Cody said, “Wow, this place has changed, a lot.”
Dax nodded. “We expanded the club house and the shop, and we’ve probably added at least a dozen houses since you’ve been gone.”
“Regular little Waco you got going on here,” Cody said. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he wished he could take them back. He looked at Dax with a hot face and said, “I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, you’re no David Koresh or anything…”
Dax chuckled. “It’s fine, Cody. I know what you meant. You know they’ve got a party going on in there in your honor, right?”
Cody was surprised. He knew they did that for the guys as they came out, but he wasn’t really “one of the guys.” He wasn’t even a prospect…yet. “Wow, so everyone’s here?” By everyone, he meant Macy, but he’d noticed how Dax cringed each time he mentioned her. There was something going on and Dax was having a hard time telling him what it was. That was unusual. Dax usually shot straight from the hip. Cody figured it was that she was with another guy, and Dax didn’t want to be the one to tell him. Cody wasn’t upset about that, though. He’d been gone six years and even if she wasn’t mad at him for getting locked up, that would have been a ridiculously long time to ask her to wait. But he couldn’t help hoping that she still harbored the same kinds of feelings for him that she used to. The same feelings he still had for her.
Cody and Dax got out of the car and Cody took a breath. The clubhouse looked freshly painted. The big white skull that graced everything on the ranch, as well as their patches, was painted in the center of the sliding doors and it was so white that it was almost blinding. The giant windows on either side of the door were tinted, and as they wound through the rows of shiny hogs and their boots crunched through the gravel on their way to the door, Cody noticed security cameras automatically moving and following their movements as they approached—the expensive-looking kind. Cody had heard through the prison grapevine that Dax’s old lady was an ex-cop, and the word was that she was trying to get him to break up the club and buy a house and settle down. Judging by the improvements to the place, that rumor was wrong.
Dax let Cody go first and when the younger man got to the door, he hesitated for just a second. He was nervous, but he didn’t want Dax to know that. He pulled open the heavy door and the music nearly assaulted him. It was loud and metal and coming from a big old jukebox in the corner that Cody recognized. It had belonged to Dax’s father. Cody was just a kid when Doc died, but he remembered him as being bigger than life. Dax did a good job of occupying the space Doc left behind when he died.
The place was packed and tables were set up with food. The wooden bar against the wall was laden with bottles of alcohol, and kegs of beer graced each end. Mostly it was packed with people, and as soon as the first person looked up and noticed him, they all began to applaud. Cody felt his face go hot. He wasn’t good at being the center of attention. Dax put his hand on his shoulder and propelled him slightly forward into the advancing crowd. Before he knew it, he was being slapped on the back, having his han
d shaken and his nearly bald head rubbed. The younger guys bumped fists with him and the older ones offered hands with swollen and gnarled knuckles to shake. The club girls milled around and Cody saw Dax slip his arm around the shoulders of a slim, beautiful blonde who he assumed was Angel. Cody continued to take his greetings until he almost felt like he couldn’t breathe…and that was when he saw Jimmy, and standing next to him was the most beautiful woman in the world. It was Macy. She looked just the same, only better. Her little-girl body had turned into a woman’s that could grace the cover of any men’s magazine anywhere. Cody smiled, probably like an idiot, he thought. Jimmy gave him a smile back, but it looked tight, and Macy didn’t smile at all. Jeez, is she still mad at me?
Jimmy approached him. He was just slightly taller than Cody, but ever since they were kids, Jimmy had always seemed taller than he was because he had a slim build like a basketball player. His mom was Asian and his father white so his eyes had a slight downward slant and he had, black hair. It fell to the collar of the prospect vest he was wearing. Jimmy was a prospect. Damn.
“Hey, Coe! Damn, you don’t even look like the same guy. Shit! You bulked up. Nice to see you, man!” Jimmy held out his fist. Cody bumped it, but suddenly the old feelings of abandonment washed back over him. He thought he’d gotten past all of that, years ago. But seeing Jimmy in the clubhouse, wearing that vest and acting like no time at all had passed between them, while Cody had been sitting in prison…it just pissed him off, plain and simple. He didn’t even think. He just pulled back his big fist and he let Jimmy have it right upside his head. Macy screamed as Jimmy’s big body hit the floor. He was stunned more than hurt. He pushed up with his hands and started to go after Cody, who was ready, but Handsome came from behind Jimmy and stepped in between them and Dax had his hand back on Cody’s shoulder. That was all it took for Cody to know that he damned well better not move. It may have been moot anyways. Cody was looking at Macy, who was on her toes, running her fingers along the side of Jimmy’s face where Cody had hit him. He had his arm around her. Motherfucker. No wonder neither of them ever showed up to see him. The fucker was screwing his girl. That realization sent another surge of heat through his body and not only did he shrug off Dax’s big hand, but he pushed the new VP Handsome out of his way, and he went after Jimmy again. That was when all hell broke loose.
Cody found himself sitting in the “chair of shame,” as the guys called it, about half an hour later. That was how long it had taken the sergeant at arms, Dax, and Handsome to break up all of the fights that had started like sparks from the fire Cody lit when he hit Jimmy. Now Dax, Handsome, a guy named Nolan, another named Pablo, and an old man that Cody didn’t recognize, were all staring him down. He could feel his nose bleeding but he didn’t reach up and wipe it, he let the blood run down over his lips. He sat right straight up in his chair with his feet forward, his hands at his sides, and his eyes on the wall behind Dax’s head. It was the position he was taught to take in prison when the yard went down and the officers took over.
“What the fuck was that, Cody?” Handsome spoke first. The fact that Dax still hadn’t said a word was not a good sign.
“I’m sorry. I lost my head.”
“You think?” Cody figured that was a rhetorical question, so he left it alone. Handsome looked about to say something else when Dax said:
“Can you all give us a minute?”
None of the men at the table looked happy about that, but none of them were willing to argue with Dax either. As they filed out of the room the old man stopped and Cody got a look at his vest. It said “Sinners” and he was wearing a president’s patch. He was Hawk. What the fuck was he doing here? He smiled down at Cody and then, pointing at the Celtic cross on Cody’s arm, he said, “You know I went on a two-week hunger strike for your right to have colored pens?” Hunger striking was one big way the inmates got what they wanted. Most of them were fishing food from other inmates and not actually starving, but the corrections staff couldn’t prove it.
“Thanks,” Cody said, still wondering what the president of the Sinners was doing at the Skulls table. Dax rolled his eyes and gestured toward the door with his head. Hawk took his time leaving and Dax looked annoyed as hell. When the old man finally shut the door behind him Dax said:
“This is my fault. I’m sorry.” That was not at all what Cody had expected.
“What do you mean it was your fault?”
“I knew about Jimmy and Macy. I should have told you.”
“Why didn’t you?” Cody asked.
“Your life sucked enough. I guess as bad as I knew it was going to be for you to find out this way, I thought it would be better to leave you some hope while you were inside. I’m sorry.”
“It’s cool,” Cody said. “It’s not your fault.”
“We need to talk about that impulse control,” Dax said. It was weird for Cody to see him at the head of the table, talking so professionally. He was a badass in the old days when first Doc died and then he took over. Now he seemed…almost tame. Cody wasn’t sure he liked that. He’d always looked up to Dax. He hoped that he hadn’t gone soft.
“What impulse control?” Cody asked with a lopsided grin. Dax tried not to smile, but lost out to it before saying:
“Exactly, man, you can’t just go off like that.”
“Why not?”
Dax raised an eyebrow. “Why not?”
“Yeah. You want to tell me you wouldn’t go off on some fucker for fucking your girl?” Dax didn’t answer that and Cody knew damned well it was because he couldn’t deny it. He should have left it at that, but that fucking missing impulse control let his mouth open again and he said, “Is this a real MC, or one of those where bored guys dress up like bikers and ride Harleys around for the weekend?”
3
Cody watched as a shadow crossed Dax’s face. He almost wanted to take it back, but decided that since he was in trouble for fighting, Dax probably wouldn’t beat the shit out of him. At least he hoped not. He might be able to do a little damage himself nowadays, but he couldn’t imagine ever hitting Dax back.
“I’m legitimizing this club, not turning it into a quilting circle. We still take care of our business and our own. And one thing I don’t tolerate is anyone that wants to bring us down in any way. You think you’re going to come out of prison and be all badass, telling me how things should work? I’m keeping about ninety people alive and out of prison on a daily basis. When you can do that, then you can fucking tell me how to handle my business. In the meantime, if this club isn’t too ‘old man weekend’ for your arrogant little ass, you can start as a prospect like everyone else, learn how to ride a fucking bike, and do your part to keep this club running. Whatever shit you have to work out with Jimmy and Macy needs to be done out of my sight and without any bodies that I have to fucking clean up, you got that?”
“Yes.” Dax hadn’t raised his voice, but his tone told Cody that there was nothing soft or tame about him. He’d just learned to rein it in and keep it in check. Too bad Cody’s and Keller’s father never learned how to do that.
“Good. If you want to be a prospect, I’ll take that to the executive board for a vote. Keller’s bike is ready to ride, but you’ll have to find one of the guys willing to teach you how to ride it. I don’t want to scrape you off the pavement either, so listen to whatever they tell you and learn how to do it right before you do it. No weapons on you without my permission. No fighting without my permission. No working on the side for anyone, without my permission. You got it?”
“Yes.”
“Fine. Go have a drink and find a girl to fuck and forget about Jimmy and Macy for tonight, okay?”
“Okay.” Cody continued to sit there for a second before Dax said:
“Get the fuck out of here.”
He got up out of his chair and was almost to the door when Dax said, “Use the second room on the right upstairs, it’s free. There are extra clothes in the basement, take what you need. The girls can get
you soap and towels and shit. Take advantage of the opportunities here, Cody. Don’t fuck up your life and end up dead or back in prison, okay?”
“I’ll do my best,” Cody said. He didn’t want to make any promises, at least not to Dax. Dax was the one person who truly gave a shit. But there were things Cody had to do and if Dax found out about them, at least Cody wouldn’t have lied to him.
“So, you just got out of prison?” Cody was on his third beer. When he came out of the meeting room Jimmy and Macy were gone. Club girls were all over him but all he could think about was that those two were probably gone somewhere, fucking, and it made him want to hit something again. A petite little brunette had just climbed up on the stool next to him. She was wearing a black leather halter top and matching skirt, with black boots that came up to her knees. She was curvy and she had a pretty face. His cock was reacting but his head was still trying to fuck him up.
“Yep,” he said.
She used one long red fingernail to trace a bulging vein in his forearm and looked up at him with “come fuck me” eyes as she said, “I bet it gets awfully lonely in there.”
“Yeah, baby, it can get pretty fucking lonely.”
“If you want some company tonight, I’m free.”
“What’s your name, beautiful?”
She smiled at his use of the word beautiful. Cody had always found the club girls a little pathetic, even when he was a kid. They had to come from some pretty fucked-up places, he thought, to spend their life going from one biker to the next, with little hope of ever going anywhere but down on them. She had a pretty smile, though, and she was obviously willing. Macy was on her back with her legs spread for his ex-best friend by now, he was sure. So why the fuck wasn’t he jumping on this one?
“Lucy,” she said. “You’re Cody, right?”