by Jayne Blue
I heaved my legs over the side of the bed. Everything in me felt like rubber. My stomach roiled when I stood, but I made it across the room and grabbed my jeans. They reeked of whiskey and beer so I threw them back into a corner. I took another swig of water.
“Aggh,” Charlie hollered. The sound of it stabbed through my head. “You’re a lightweight, Declan.”
He wasn’t wrong. There was a time I’d have been the last wolf standing after a night like last night. I wasn’t sure it was a title I had much interest in retaking. Still, for the first time since I’d gotten out of Marion, this felt like home. It wasn’t. Not yet. I still had to figure out some kind of permanent living arrangement. But my brothers had welcomed me home with open arms and a flowing tap. I felt some of the hard years melt away, if only a little.
“Mo made enough flapjacks to feed an army down there.”
Mo was Cora Mo McGillivray. A mouthful for as small a person as she was so Mo stuck before most of us were born. She was, Charlie’s long-suffering girlfriend and self-appointed den mother to us all. They’d been together over twenty years and she wouldn’t marry him. It was out of spite for her bastard of an ex-husband, a member of a rival M.C., the Devil’s Hawks. He paid her a good chunk of alimony every month that would stop the minute she remarried. I don’t think she’d ever spent a dime of it, but she relished the satisfaction of taking it from him. The arrangement seemed to suit Charlie fine.
When Charlie opened the door to the hallway, sure enough, the kitchen smells reached my nostrils. I swear to God, just the scent of Mo’s cooking had to be the best hangover cure known to man.
“Lemme just scrape the fuzz off my teeth and tell her I’ll be right down.” My stomach punctuated my statement with a growl that Charlie could hear from the hallway. He laughed again and waddled toward the stairs.
I grabbed my duffel and pulled out fresh clothes. Ten minutes later, after a hot shower and toothpaste, I felt like a new man. I pulled a new white t-shirt over my head, savoring the clean smell of bleach. I threw my cut over my shoulders, shoving my arms through it, and headed toward the heavenly scent of Mo’s pancakes.
***
“You up for a sort of field trip?” Sly leaned against the kitchen counter sipping coffee out of an oversized mug that said “GWG.” I still didn’t know what the hell that meant.
I finished the last dregs of my own cup and set it down. “I don’t have any other big plans for the day. What’d you have in mind?”
Sly set his cup in the sink behind him. It had a deep, industrial-sized stainless steel basin. In fact, everything about this kitchen was industrial-sized. The Den had a commercial kitchen off the bar but Sly had built a second kitchen, just for the members. It was open, with a long, granite-topped bar right in the middle of it. Back in the day, before Sly rebuilt the place, the members would hang out in the basement or around the conference table. We had a bunch of mismatched tables, folding chairs and a cooler stocked with beer. This was a vast improvement. He had two walk-in coolers stocked with enough food and beer to satisfy about forty starved and thirsty bikers.
“You ready to go back to work?” Sly raised a blond eyebrow at me and I leaned forward on my stool, resting my weight on my elbows.
“Again, what’d you have in mind?” That question had weighed on me as much as thoughts of Ava did. Thirteen years ago, I knew where I fit into the club. Blackie Murphy had been a son of a bitch and took the club in directions that weren’t good for us. Directions that had made me the perfect target for the set-up that landed me in prison. We were the muscle for some bad and powerful organizations. Blackie justified it, claiming we weren’t the ones actually dealing drugs or guns. We were the peacekeepers. His own fucked-up version of the U.N. And when the feds zeroed in on Pagano, we should have seen it coming a mile away that he’d use one of us as his scapegoat. I never dreamed it would be me.
But even with all of that, I understood the path in front of me when Blackie was in charge. A path that was supposed to bring me to the head of the club when he stepped down. Now Sly wore Blackie’s patch. I didn’t begrudge it of him. Not for one damn second. But it left me unsettled. The shrink at Marion warned me to expect this. Of course I was glad to be out. But it was going to take me some time to figure out my next move. Freedom can be an overwhelming thing when you’ve been without for as long as I had.
Billy came into the kitchen then and slid onto the stool across from me. He looked worse than I felt with bags under his eyes big enough for pocket change.
“Billy’s going to show you around,” Sly said. “I’d do it myself but I’ve got a few meetings I have to take that won’t keep. We’ll catch up later this afternoon though.”
“Sounds good,” I said. And it did. But a look passed between Billy and Sly. It could be nothing. It probably was. I’d been out of the club loop for so long by necessity and my choice. It was no good for me to be too connected to club business while I was inside. It would have made me a further target of federal investigation. It would have opened me up to suspicion from other chapters. I would never be a rat. I would have died first. But there were plenty of people in other chapters and other groups that would have assumed I had something to do with it if any shit landed on them. Ignorance offered the best protection for everyone involved.
Now though, I couldn’t deny it chaffed me. A lot. These were my friends, my brothers. I’d be no good to any of them now if I didn’t have my eyes open. I meant to press Sly on it later. We both knew he and I were going to have to sit down and have a real talk soon.
“Then let’s get going,” Billy said, snapping me out of my head. “Sun’s shining, not a cloud in the sky. Let’s ride.”
Those two words sounded like heaven and it was enough to chase away whatever funk I’d felt. I got up and slapped Billy on the back. Wherever we were going, I kind of hoped it would take us a while to get there.
“Talk later?” I said to Sly. Never mind the time apart, we could pick up right where we left off. It took only a look from me and Sly knew what was on my mind. He set his mouth into a hard line and gave a forceful nod. Yeah. We were on the same page all right.
***
We rode for an hour. Not because it took that long to get there, but because Billy understood my need to ride. We hit the highway looping around Green Bluff, circled the foothills of Mount Shasta and swung back near the cliffs. Our destination was only ten miles from the Den but I was grateful for the clarity the smooth ride and open air gave me.
I pulled up alongside Billy and he pointed to the nearest exit. A large lit sign rose over the rest of the smaller buildings along the industrial parkway. Great Wolves Gym. I smiled ... GWG. The gym itself was a huge complex stretching over several acres. We roared into the parking lot. I cut my engine and peeled off my helmet. Billy slammed down his kickstand and we walked in together.
My mouth dropped open when I saw it. GWG was a state-of-the-art sports complex in a converted warehouse. The entire first floor was an open rectangle with boxing rings and octagons taking up one third, weights and equipment in the center, an Olympic-sized pool and a track running around the whole thing. On the far wall, in giant black-and-red paint, was the Great Wolves M.C. logo.
Billy slapped me on the back. “Times are changing, Dex.”
“I guess so.” A catwalk surrounded the second floor of the complex and behind that was a wall of glass block windows and what looked like office space.
“You’re in the corporate headquarters of the Great Wolves Gym, Dex. We have eight locations between here and the east coast. Small industrial towns, just like Green Bluff where it all started. Places hit hardest by the car industry crash after ’08. Most of our locations are converted warehouses or factory buildings like this.”
I was speechless. A knot formed in my throat. It was just like Sly and I had talked about all those years ago before everything turned to shit for me. We wanted to take back our town. We wanted to give something bac
k instead of taking away and making things worse, which was where things were headed before Blackie died.
“How many jobs?” I turned to Billy.
Billy smiled. “I don’t know exactly. Sly can run the numbers with you. We’re one of the biggest training facilities for professional fighters in the country. We’ve sponsored two 21st Century Fighting League champions in the last four years.”
I looked back toward the rings. Two young kids, probably no more than twenty, sparred hard, their trainers keeping a watchful eye and shouting out pointers. I guessed the smaller of the two had to be a wrestler. He moved like one, keeping his center of gravity low, his movements cautious and compact. When his opponent lunged for him, the kid dove for his legs; quick and hard he flipped him to his back. With a shout from their trainers, the two sprung back up and started again from their ready positions.
“Is this where we’re making most of our money?”
Billy cocked his head. “We’re diversified. This is a big chunk of it, yes. Sly wants to sit down and talk details with you. He thought this place might leave the biggest impact on you.”
He wasn’t wrong. We’d talked about opening a gym, years ago. But I’d never envisioned the scope that Billy was describing. Or this place. I walked away from Billy trying to let my mind take it in. I ran my hand along the nearest weight bench. One of the young fighters from the ring—the shooter—had finished up. He walked past me and jerked his chin down. A sign of respect. He didn’t know me but I wore my cut; he knew I was a Great Wolf. I put my hand out. He took it and shook it hard.
“Good match out there,” I said. “What’s your name, kid?”
“Franco, sir. Pete Franco.”
Billy chuckled beside me. “We call him Chicken Hawk.”
The kid smiled wide and nodded. I raised a brow at Billy.
“You know, like the old cartoon. The little guy who everyone thinks is too small to do any damage to the rooster. Then he comes in and flattens him.”
Franco smiled. If the name bothered him, he didn’t show it.
“Well, I don’t know about the nickname, kid. But you’ve got some real promise, I’d guess. I wouldn’t mind coming back later and working out with you.”
The kid smiled wide. “Any time. Thank you, sir,” he answered. Sir. The GWMC had been respected in this town, sure. But most of that had always stemmed from fear. This felt different. Eight years. It had only been eight years since Sly took over the club. I didn’t understand yet how he did it, but he’d transformed this club—this town—into something very different from what I’d left behind. I felt a strange mixture of pride and grief. Sly was my brother in every way that mattered. We’d kill for each other and that hadn’t changed. And yet, I knew it was going to take a long time before I could figure out exactly how I fit into this new regime.
“Come on,” Billy said. “We have a few more stops planned.”
I smiled and took one last look out at the floor of the gym. I felt something simmer inside me, like a hum. My heart quickened with an emotion I hadn’t really felt in so long it’s no wonder I didn’t recognize it for what it was at first. It was hope. Hope and excitement. Sly had started something here. Something I wanted desperately to be a part of. I couldn’t wait to get back to the clubhouse to sit down and talk specifics.
I headed out to the parking lot and turned when Billy called. “I’ll meet you out there in a second, Dex.” I gave him a thumbs up and headed for my bike.
My phone buzzed in my back pocket and I took it out. The caller ID came up blocked but I answered anyway. At the moment, I only had three contacts on the thing: Sly, Tora and Charlie.
“Dex,” I answered.
“Declan, good to hear your voice.”
My blood ran cold. I could have asked him how he got this number, I’d only had it for a few days. I could have asked him what the hell he wanted but I already knew.
“Pagano,” I said, the name tasting bitter in my mouth.
“I just wanted to personally congratulate you on your good fortune. I hope you’re enjoying the sunlight on your face again.”
“I’m sure you are.”
He let the silence settle. I thought about hanging up on the bastard but something made me keep him on the line. He could bluster all he wanted, but I could hear the falter in his breathing. He wanted me to know he could still get to me.
“Then I won’t keep you. I just thought it would be a good idea to personally reach out to you. You’ve been gone a long time. We still have mutual interests. I wouldn’t want anything to get in the way of that.”
Mutual interests? What the fuck was he talking about?
“Go to hell, George,” I said. “You want some kind of assurance from me that I’m not going to fuck with you? How about you quit trying to fuck with me?”
“Declan, you can be sure if I wanted to fuck with you, you’d know it.”
Ah. There he was. Pagano’s voice dripped with hatred and I knew he was more than a little scared of me. I knew things about him. The threat of spilling them had been one of the things that had kept me protected on the inside. He had to be worried I’d try to make a move on him now. He was dead wrong though.
I clicked the “end” button before he could say another word. I’d heard all I needed to. It didn’t mean the call hadn’t rattled me. Pagano wanted to make it loud and clear that he could get to me or the club. Sly needed to know. He also needed to know I would never let that asshole put me or anyone I cared about in jeopardy again. I had no interest in sending George Pagano to prison. No. I’d rather just send him to hell.
Chapter Four
Billy and I rode through town for most of the rest of the afternoon. Green Bluff too had undergone a transformation in the dozen-plus years since I’d seen it. The outskirts of the town stayed the same. It was mostly rural with sweeping hills surrounding swaths of flatlands dotted with cattle and tumbleweeds. While the town center was still quaint and filled with mom and pop shops, it had also grown. We had a Starbucks and a couple of fast-food chains now too. The architecture of the latter had been designed to blend in with the existing brick and stucco buildings built more than a hundred years ago.
While the gym was certainly the biggest business the club had going now, there were others too. We still ran a hardware store downtown, and Sly had already told me they’d more or less franchised the Wolf Den too. As we walked through the town square, I couldn’t help but look at every blonde I saw, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ava.
It was stupid of me, I knew. I had every reason to think she was still somewhere in Green Bluff. Charlie would have told me if she’d left. The club would look out for her even though I’d given up my claim on her long ago. I’d spent so much time reliving the first and last time I’d seen her in my mind along with every moment in between.
I couldn’t help that my cock stirred a little at the memory of the first time. Sly and I had gotten in a little scuffle in a bar with a couple members of the Devil’s Hawks. It was nothing really. I don’t even remember anymore what had set us off. We got the best of the Hawks that night but it still left me with a nasty gash above my left eyebrow from the jagged end of a broken beer bottle one of them had used on me before I laid him flat.
God. She’d been young and sexy in that candy striper’s uniform as I sat in the waiting room of the E.R. She hadn’t seen me yet. She was in the middle of getting chewed out by some battle-axe of a nurse for dropping some rolled bandages on the ground. And when she bent over to pick them up, it just about undid me. I wanted to grip that sweet little ass and never let her go. Then she came to me. She had the face of an angel, with the palest blue eyes I’d ever seen. She was like some Nordic goddess with her white-blonde hair, long legs and curves I wanted to run my hands all over.
And I did. That very night.
I don’t know what the hell she saw in me that day. I was rough and dirty, with blood running down the side of my face, but something spark
ed between us the instant we laid eyes on each other and thank God for it. It was fate when I ran into her later at the bar across the street from the hospital. Well, fate and a little recon. This town was small. I knew where the hospital types hung out. I had Sly pay one of the orderlies a hundred bucks to find out when her shift ended and make sure she’d be at the bar.
She was sweet and shy but had a fierceness in her that I saw right away. Some drunk asshole was getting handsy with her when we walked in. I geared up to get in my second fight of the night but Ava was smooth. To this day I don’t know what she said to the creep. She wouldn’t tell me. But whatever it was, he slinked off into some corner and left the stool beside her empty. I made my move.
We talked for hours that first night. She was just a kid. Barely twenty-one. She meant to finish college and study to become a pediatric nurse. She loved kids. Her friends probably warned her to stay the hell away from me that night and she would have been smart to listen. Girls like her don’t belong with guys like me. She was for some doctor or lawyer. I was all hard edges and street smarts. I was twenty-seven back then and I already had a ten-year-old kid of my own. What right did I have to crash into her world?
Except as I talked to her that night, as I inhaled her sweet smell and saw the flash in her eyes when she looked at me, I didn’t have a choice. She drank one-too-many sea breezes (she had more of a head start than I realized) and I took her home on the back of my bike. I kissed her outside her apartment and held her in my arms. It took everything in me to leave it at that. But when I took her for the first time—and I knew then that I would—I wanted her head clear and her eyes wide open. This girl was different and I meant to make her mine.
Two months later, I did. By then, I was lost to her and she didn’t even know it yet. She consumed me. I wanted her in my bed, my heart, my life. Forever. Six months after that, I was ready to ask her to marry me. She came with me on a trip to Chicago—club business with another charter. But one night we went out on the town. There was another bar, another creep. She was tough but this asshole was tougher. I came out of the bathroom and found he had her pressed against the wall next to the jukebox. White rage fueled me and I don’t even really remember what happened. I just remember my hands around that asshole’s pencil neck and Ava screaming at me to ease up.