Undaunted: Knights in Black Leather

by Ronnie Douglas

  WHEN ZION GOT to Echo’s house, he didn’t bother knocking. They were far past that sort of nicety. Maybe they’d never been there in the first place. He opened the door and keyed in the alarm code. If Echo hadn’t expected him, Zion would’ve needed his key too, but he had long since learned that Echo would unlock the door if he knew Zion was visiting. It had always felt a little like coming home, not that either of them acknowledged it. No one ever had until Aubrey did so last night. It felt strange to have had his first ever conversation where someone came right out and called Echo his dad.

  Zion tossed the lock and called out, “Echo?”

  “In here.”

  Zion walked farther into the house and found Echo standing in the dining room staring at a map. His table had long since been turned into a giant desk of sorts. He glanced at Zion and asked, “What are you grinning at?”

  “How awkward everyone is about me being your kid, even though it’s the worst-kept secret in the club,” Zion said with a shrug.

  Echo stared at him for a moment before tossing a beer his way. “Your old lady mentioned it, I gather.”

  “Seems someone tried to warn her off me because of it.” Zion twisted the top off the bottle.

  “Don’t look at me, boy. I didn’t own up to you being mine. Figured I wasn’t going to do that until you got the balls to call me out on it.” Echo set his own beer down and pulled out a half-crumpled pack of cigarettes. “Took you long enough. Thought I’d be having this talk on one of our deathbeds at the rate you were moving.”

  Zion looked at the pack of smokes and grinned. “First time you caught me having a post-sex smoke, I thought you were going to say something.”

  Echo pulled out a cigarette and slid the rest of the pack toward him. “You looked like a cocky little bastard. I wasn’t sure whether to be proud or cuff you for it.” He packed his cigarette. “You look about the same right now.”

  “Christ, Echo, you want to give me a birds-and-bees talk now that I admitted to knowing you’re my old man?” Zion held a hand out for the lighter.

  Once Echo lit his, he tossed the lighter toward Zion’s head.

  Zion snatched it out of the air and lit his cigarette. “I’m not going to call you Dad or some shit.”

  “That’s your business. I wasn’t a great example of a father. Don’t imagine I earned the word,” Echo said.

  And for the first time, it occurred to Zion that he wasn’t the only one their silence had hurt. He’d never really thought of Echo as a father. He hadn’t thought of anyone that way. He had a lot of uncles and one boss. It wasn’t the most traditional family, but they’d done okay.

  Zion stood there awkwardly with Echo. “You’ve been good to me.”

  Echo snorted. “So good you want to leave.”

  “If Mrs. E. had asked you to give up the life . . .”

  “You go from ignoring everything to putting everything out on the table, don’t you?” Echo stared at him for several moments. “I don’t know. Thought about it when you came along, but . . . I didn’t have anything to offer her. We had what we had. I spent a lot of nights slipping into that house after her kid was asleep. I did what I could to be there when she let me.” He took a drink, looked at the table, took another drink. “Maybe I would’ve left. She didn’t ask, though.”

  “Neither did Aubrey,” Zion said. He paused, smoking in silence for a moment before adding, “You didn’t need to talk to her.”

  Echo lifted his cigarette, took a drag, stared at him, and then when he exhaled, he said, “I simply pointed out that she was asking you to give up a lot. I might not call you my kid, but I don’t want to see you throw everything away over a girl.”

  “Not your call,” Zion said. “Not as my boss or as my father. I’ll go through whatever it takes to walk away from the club if that’s what I have to do to be with her.”

  “It’s like that, then?”

  Zion nodded.

  For a moment, the only sounds were the ticking of the clock on the wall and the nearly silent sizzle of burning tobacco as they smoked. Finally, Echo sighed. “You two better be sure you know what you’re doing. I don’t want to get caught between you and Maureen.” He lifted his bottle and took a drink. “And just so you know, Aubrey’s father hates me, so there’s that too.”

  “Great,” Zion muttered.

  Echo grinned then. “If there’s kids, I expect they’ll call me Grandpa.”

  Zion let out a groan, and his father laughed. It was good, and Zion was increasingly sure they could work it all out. Cautiously, though, he said, “If it stops being such a secret that I’m your kid, I could still come around to see everyone, just not for work.”

  The look Echo gave him was appraising. “You’ve thought this out.”

  Zion shrugged. He’d been pondering possibilities the past week. He’d even looked into a few things.

  “Out with it,” Echo said. “I know there’s more.”

  Zion held Echo’s gaze as he asked, “What do you think of me enlisting?”

  “You could, or you could go to school. You’re smart enough, and your art’s good.”

  It was foolish to be happy to hear Echo admit to noticing either detail, but it still made Zion smile. He shook his head, though. “Thanks, but I’m not sure I’m cut out for that. I can’t see being in an office eventually or a classroom now—and being a student doesn’t exactly pay.”

  “You should have enough money tucked away. You don’t spend anything.” Echo watched him, studying his face the way he had when Zion was a teenager. “So enlisting . . .”

  “I’m good with guns, planning, take orders well. My record’s clean.”

  Echo nodded. “All right, then.”

  “I’m going to go over and tell her tonight,” Zion said.

  “Tomorrow. I need you to come with me to talk to some people tonight,” Echo said.

  Zion nodded. Talking at night probably meant they were meeting someone who either would rather not be seen meeting Wolves or wasn’t expecting their visit. Either way, Zion was the one who enforced Echo’s words. That was his job, the violent act to back up his father’s authority.

  “We need to get this business with the trouble over at Maureen and . . . Aubrey’s place squared away before you sign up for boot camp.” Echo pointed at the map. “This is all the area they’ve bought up so far . . .”

  Chapter 26

  I FELT EVEN MORE confused after the things I’d shared with Zion. I wasn’t going to say that I was in love simply because he’d proven me so very wrong about sex, but I couldn’t pretend my feelings were simple lust—or mere friendship. I thought about him constantly, and I had done so since the night we’d met.

  The sound of motorcycles led me to the front porch. When I stepped out of the house, I saw two Wolves on Harleys that they parked in the street. They didn’t get off the bikes. Instead they waved and stayed where they were. I realized they were guards sent over by Echo. I lifted my hand in greeting and went back inside. Maybe straightening up would help me clear my mind.

  After a few hours, the house was completely clean, but my mind was no more settled than it had been. I was forced to admit that I needed a better distraction than reorganizing my grandmother’s pantry, which was about all I had left to do.

  I’d just decided to call Ellen when the doorbell drew my attention. Standing on my porch was a Wolf. Two more men stood outside. One wore a Wolves vest, and the other had no insignia. There weren’t any more Harleys, though. Instead, there were a couple pickup trucks.

  “Echo says the window needs fixing,” said the biker on my porch. He was young, maybe a year older than Zion, but he looked a lot less comfortable than the guys I’d seen at the bar with Zion. He shuffled his feet and muttered, “You can call him or Killer if—”

  “You’re wearing club colors,” I interrupted. “And I’ve seen you around the bar, and he said he was sending people.”

  The biker lifted his gaze from his boots and smiled. “I’m Philli
p.”

  “Hi, Phillip.” I stepped to the side and motioned him inside. “We put up plywood, but . . .” I shrugged. I wasn’t sure what the protocol was. I stood with the door half-open, looking between Phillip and the two men outside.

  One of the guards from earlier was talking to the biker who had club colors on his vest. After a moment, he nodded at me, and the two bikers who’d been there rode off. I didn’t feel uncomfortable with them at the house, but having them around made it harder to avoid thinking about how much the Wolves were in my life.

  When I thought about asking if it was okay to go out, I realized it was ridiculous. I didn’t need to check with Echo or Zion. I wasn’t a Wolf or someone’s property. They hadn’t even suggested that I needed to check in. I was just trying to figure out what was normal.

  I walked to my room and called Ellen. When she picked up, I asked, “Do you want to catch a movie?”

  “Only if you tell me you really had Bobbie tossed out of the bar last night.”

  “She threw a drink at me,” I started to explain.

  “Because Killer turned her down for you,” Ellen added.

  I closed my eyes. “How do you know that already?”

  Ellen laughed. “Doll, these are my people, my home. Mama got a call, and a bunch of them were toasting your curvy badass self for standing up for ‘sweet little Killer’ like they forget who he is or what he’s done.” She paused before adding in a softer voice, “Don’t you forget. He’s not one of your uppity college boys.”

  “I know.”

  “Just . . . watch yourself,” she said.

  I sighed. “He spent the night. We had a break-in and—”

  “Are you okay?” she interrupted.

  “We are. Echo and Zion came over and—”

  “Jesus, girl! I’m getting in the car. I’ll be there in twenty. I want to hear everything.”

  As she spoke, I could hear a door slam on the other end of the line. “You’re coming now? I’ll check what’s playing at the theater.”

  She scoffed. “Skip the movie. We’ll talk.”

  Briefly, I considered going along with what she said, but I wanted to let it all go for a little bit. “We can talk after. I need to shut my brain off for a while. Movie first.”

  Once Ellen agreed, I pulled up the listings. The next showings were a low-budget horror film and some sort of comedy. I couldn’t decide which was more likely to make me laugh, but either would distract me. I got ready, and by the time Ellen picked me up, I’d settled on letting her pick.

  The comedy was exactly what I needed, and Ellen was great at letting her curiosity go unanswered up until we were walking out to the parking lot.

  “Okay, spill.”

  I laughed. There was nothing else to do. Ellen was a force of nature when she turned her attention to a subject, and I’d already learned that true resistance was pointless.

  “Zion is leaving the Wolves for . . . us, me, however you say it,” I told her.

  “Seriously?” Her eyebrows darted up, and her voice went squeaky. “Killer? That Zion? I mean there’s no other Zion—”

  “Yes.”

  She whistled. “Damn. No wonder Bobbie was pissed. You tamed—”

  “No. I didn’t. We hung out and—”

  “Hey,” she interrupted in a gentle but firm voice. “Not a criticism. Like I said, he was bound to fall hard when he fell. I just underestimated how hard.”

  “I’m scared,” I whispered, finally admitting aloud what I’d been thinking all day. “What if he’s making a mistake? What if I’m not worth it?”

  Ellen hugged me. “Sweetie, the fact that you’re even worried about that instead of what if he hurts you is proof that he’s not making a mistake.”

  I started to fill Ellen in on everything I was willing to share about things with Zion while we drove the ten minutes to the diner she wanted to go to. I felt guilty about keeping details back, but I’d feel guilty about sharing them too.

  We got out at the oddly named Mama’s Grub and Grill, and before we made it to the front door, we were stopped by the roar of a Harley. I couldn’t say I was shocked to see a bike—the town was full of Wolves—but I was surprised when I realized that it was Noah’s. He swerved to a stop in front of us and cut off the engine.

  “Are you okay?” he asked me in lieu of a greeting.

  “Yeah. How did you find us?”

  Noah ignored my question and said, “I heard about the break-in. Last thing you needed after that mess at the bar and”—he glanced at Ellen—“the other stuff.”

  “She and Killer sorted ‘the other stuff’ out,” Ellen said as she crossed her arms. “And you best not be stirring up trouble.”

  Then, with a protective attitude that I was coming to realize was her default way of being with me, Ellen linked her arm in mine and started toward the front door. She didn’t bother to stop at the hostess stand, instead continuing to a booth.

  It didn’t take Noah long to catch up to us. He slid in beside Ellen as the waitress came and handed us two menus.

  “Sorry, I can bring another one,” she said.

  “Nah, I’ll share.” Noah scooted closer to Ellen. “Ellie doesn’t mind, do you?”

  Once the waitress turned away, Ellen glared at Noah. “Here.” She slid the menu toward him. “I don’t need it.”

  He leaned back and draped his arm over her shoulder. “Me either.” He grinned at her. “Burger, fries, strawberry shake . . . and onion rings, unless you’re free for a ride.”

  Ellen flipped him off, rolled her eyes, and said nothing.

  “How did you know where we were?” I asked again. “Or did you?”

  Noah turned away from Ellen. “Miss Bitty.”

  “My mama,” Ellen interjected.

  “Right.” I frowned. “But we just decided to come here.”

  Noah laughed. “You were upset. That means Ellie would bring you here. Comfort food. It’s how the South works.”

  By the time we had ordered, it was as if we’d actually all been friends for a while. The discomfort I’d felt with Noah over our brief flirtation seemed to be completely forgotten, and Ellen brought up the subject of discussing more personal questions at a later time with a stern “There will be spilling of secrets. Don’t think this reprieve means I’m letting it go.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I snarked.

  Noah laughed. “Someone else unwilling to face your wrath, Ellie. Smart move, Aubrey. Smart move.”

  Ellen flipped him off again, and Noah hauled her closer and tried to kiss her cheek. She shoved him away so hard she almost slid out of the booth.

  Noah scowled. “What the fuck was that?”

  “You’re pretty, but . . .” Ellen shrugged.

  “I’m pretty but what?” He sounded genuinely hurt, and I wondered how much baggage they had behind them.

  Ellen shrugged again, took a sip of her soda, and said lightly, “Let it go, Noah.”

  “Ellie—”

  “Drop it.” Ellen elbowed him. She looked at me. “He’s just jealous because I’m not interested.”

  Noah’s snort was his only reply, but his body grew tense.

  “Poor babe’s been pining for me since we were . . . what?” She glanced at Noah. “Ten years old?”

  “Only because everyone else was afraid of your temper,” he teased right back, seeming to shake whatever mood her pulling away had caused. “Seriously, Aubrey, she was the scariest kid ever. Even Killer was afraid of her.”

  “Respect, not fear,” Ellen corrected. She took another drink and looked back at him. “Unless you want to start a fight, Noah Eli Dash, you best be minding that tongue of yours. I’m still in possession of that temper.”

  He stared at her for a long moment before saying, “I haven’t forgot anything, Ellie Belly.”

  As Ellen looked at him, I realized that he was the boy—the one she’d talked about. I felt wretched realizing that I’d taken her with me to the races where she’d watched the man she l
oved flirt with me.

  “Ellen . . .”

  Something in my tone must’ve been revealing because she kicked me under the table and said, “Shall we tell Dash the big news?”

  “Not my news to tell,” I said lightly, “but we could tell him about the movie . . .”

  Ellen laughed, and launched into a recounting of the ridiculously bad spoof we’d watched.

  They were a lot more at ease than they’d been at the races, so much so that I realized that while I had noticed that they’d both been tense that night, I hadn’t guessed why.

  The rest of our extra-late lunch—or maybe early dinner—went by without any stressful or awkward moments. They were my friends, and despite my only knowing them a short while, they were in some ways closer than the people I’d left behind in Oregon. With both of them, I felt natural, like I didn’t have to be anyone but myself. It was a rare gift.

  When I got out of Ellen’s car a couple of hours later and walked into my house, I felt more together than I had in a while. Without meaning to, I had put down a few roots in Williamsville. I still wasn’t staying here long term, but I was a lot less opposed to being here for the time being.

  Chapter 27

  GRANDMA MAUREEN AND I were folding some of the tower of laundry that I’d washed and dried earlier in the day when we heard the sound of footsteps. She put a hand on my wrist and nodded toward the laundry room door.

  “Where are the Wolves?” I whispered after I pulled it shut.

  “Sent them home,” she said quietly. “Eddie’s coming over tonight, and it was just an hour or two and I thought Zion was still with you, so he’d be here when you got back.”

  We exchanged a tense look.

  “Eddie would’ve called out. It’s not him,” she said, looking around the tiny laundry room for a weapon. I did the same. There wasn’t anything other than bleach.

  The phone in the kitchen rang.

  I pulled the bottle of bleach down and stepped in front of her just as the laundry room door was jerked open.

  There were two men; both had their faces hidden by balaclavas. One wore a lime-green knit balaclava that left only his eyes exposed. If it weren’t for the fact that he also had a snub-nosed pistol in his hand, he would have looked ridiculous. Masks on intruders weren’t odd, but garish green ones seemed more suited to children on skis or snowboards than armed intruders.