by Max Henry
“Basically a week long leg between here and Cali. Make sure we stop off at Lincoln on the way.”
“Sounds like fun.”
I shrug. “Thought it would help give me focus, but then I realized I don’t even know what’s going on with the club at the moment. I mean, aside from me coming home and y’all getting rid of Carlos.” I hang my head, feeling every bit as naïve as I probably appear. “Beth mentioned about getting permission from other clubs to travel through their areas, and it dawned on me that I’d have to ask you guys to do that.” I roll my eyes. “So much for the big surprise then, huh?”
“Why we keepin’ it a secret then?” he asks.
I look over at him, all handsome and innocent with his questions. “Because I’d feel stupid if people knew how long I spent organizing something that’ll never happen.”
He chuckles, reaching out for me. I resist the arm that loops behind me, smiling as he tries to tug me closer.
“Come here, woman, before I have to make sure you fuckin’ submit.”
“And how you going to do that?” I ask, wriggling to stop him dragging me over his lap.
Thick fingers dig in under my ribs as he tries to tickle me. “Like this.”
“Ow!” I shove his hands away. “If that was supposed to make me laugh, you failed miserably Mr. I’m-too-rough-with-my-hands. But I give in. You’ve still won.”
He smirks as I turn and straddle his legs, placing my hands on his shoulders. “Now what?”
“Now you tell me what will make you let all this bullshit about provin’ yourself go, and be happy.”
I let my head drop forward and rest it on his shoulder, breathing in the familiar comforting smell of leather and road dust. “I wish I knew. I honestly feel so stupid, Dog.”
“Hey.” He threads a strong hand through my hair, holding me close. “We aren’t all born knowing exactly what we want to be, Mel. Some of us have to try and fail a hundred times before we figure it out.”
“That’s just it,” I say, sitting up straight again. “I don’t even know what to try to even have a chance at failing at it.”
“What do you love?”
This right now. “I’m not sure.”
“What warms your chest?” he pushes.
You. Damn it all. He’s crept under my skin, got to me without having to try. I never stood a chance.
“You can tell me,” he coaxes, ducking his head to level our gazes.
I let a small smile tug at my lips as I peek out from under my lashes. “I keep thinking about you. You make me happy, warm my chest.”
He blinks and I swear to God the echo of silence as I wait for his answer deafens me. “Wasn’t expectin’ that.” His lips turn down. “But I like it.”
I’m hit with the urge to get off him, to put space between us until my embarrassment fades. How is it he always manages to reduce me to this blithering girly mess?
“Don’t get shy on me, babe.” His hands find my face, and he massages my neck with his fingertips. “I can’t do much if you don’t tell me how you feel, can I?”
“I guess not.”
He chuckles, the sound warm and inviting. “We both knew this ‘we’re better off as friends’ bullshit wouldn’t last, hey?”
I laugh too, sighing a, “Yeah,” as I lean into his hold.
His eyes fix on mine, the truth in the gentle swirl of his fingers as he leans a tiny bit closer, as his breathing quickens just the slightest.
“Hate to break this up, guys …”
Damn it!
“But?” I call out.
Murphy stands in my doorway, thumbs hooked in his belt loops. “Crackers needs you both downstairs.”
Dog voices my thoughts exactly as he sighs heavily and removes his hands from my face. “Pick this up later, huh?”
“Sure.” I slide off his knees and step back to let him up.
Murphy throws a wink our way before he turns and disappears. At least it was him who busted us up close and personal, and not Crackers. I get the feeling our VP might not be so forgiving.
“You think they have news on Hooch?” I ask.
Dog stands and runs a hand over his head. “Without a doubt if they want both of us.”
Is it possible to feel excited and panicked at the same time? My heart races with anticipation, yet the thought of hiding out and denying whatever Crackers has to say is just as strong.
I hope it’s good. It has to be good. I couldn’t handle it if it weren’t.
“Mel.” One look at Dog’s face and I realize that wasn’t the first time he’d called my name.
“Sorry, what?”
“Don’t overthink it before you’ve heard what he has to say. Just hear him out, okay?” He frowns, and in that split-second I know I was right.
Crackers lied to me.
TWENTY-THREE
Dog
Her hand shakes as she reaches under the edge of the table and sets it on my leg. I place mine over top, stroking the soft spot on the side of her wrist with my thumb.
Shit’s definitely serious if Crackers has brought Mel into the chapel.
“Figured we’d all fit better here than jammed in the office,” Crackers says from the head of the table.
Serious if he’s finally decided he can warm Hooch’s seat, too.
“Any objections?” He looks around the table at the officers of the Fort Worth chapter.
They all glance at one another, daring each other to say something. There’s nothing but pleasing silence.
“Got news about Hooch,” he says with his head down, forearms laid out on the table before him.
“Good news?” Mel asks, barely above a whisper.
“No news.” He frowns, touching the tips of his fingers together. “We haven’t heard from him since the day after he left us at the farm.”
“And you’re only just tellin’ us now?” Murphy shouts. “What the hell, brother?”
Crackers blinks, deflecting the heat by choosing to ignore it. “Digits tracked his phone the first few days, but he’s probably out of battery, or switched it off. It gave up sharin’ location early last week.”
“I can’t believe you lied to me,” Mel mutters. She looks around the table. “To us.”
“There were other factors involved.” His eyes flick to Digits, who stares down at his hands as he cracks his knuckles. “Turns out that retrieving Mel was just the icing on a huge as fuck cake of shit he had goin’ on.”
“You about to explain why he was askin’ me strange questions before he left?” Murphy asks.
“Possibly.” Crackers raises both eyebrows as he takes a deep breath. “He had a DEA agent on his ass.”
Mumbles bounce around the table as everybody takes stock of the news. Mel visibly pales, her throat bobbing as she swallows.
“Johnny spotted the guy camped out on the road when he rolled in a week or so back. Made me aware and we played a game of stalk the stalker with the asshole.”
“Then what?” I ask. “Where is he now?”
“In the worker’s house,” Digits answers without a trace of emotion.
“What are you going to do with him?” Mel asks.
She knows as well as I do that the worker’s house hasn’t had anyone living in it for decades. It’s basically the dungeon, where assholes get thrown while the club decides their fate; partially hidden by the flora that’s overgrown it over the years and far enough away that the sounds from within don’t bother the members up here at the big house.
“First,” Crackers answers. “We’ll find out what the fuck he wanted with Hooch. Seems we aren’t the only ones tryin’ to track down where he went. Mighty’s already dealt with the feds about your kill, Mel, so it has to be related to somethin’ else.”
“You think there’s guilt involved?” Murphy asks with trepidation.
Crackers shakes his head. “Not in Hooch’s nature. I won’t believe that until I have hard evidence to prove it.”
I breathe a sigh of relief, as does Mel.
“Agreed,” Murphy concurs.
“Where was the last location his phone gave off?” Jo-Jo startles the hell out of the lot of us by speaking up—a rare occasion for him.
“Jonesboro,” Digits answers.
“What the hell he doin’ in Arkansas?” Murphy asks.
“Stayin’ away from popular territory,” Crackers murmurs from the end of the table.
“We know many people that way?” Jo-Jo asks.
Crackers shakes his head as I slump back in my seat.
Mel’s hand squeezes tight under mine. “Should make it easy to narrow down where he’s gone then, shouldn’t it?” she asks.
“Assuming he’s even used our contacts at all,” Murphy states.
She ducks her head, that pink tongue of hers darting out to wet her lips. “Have to start somewhere, right?”
“I’ve got no other options,” Crackers agrees with a toss of his hands. “We’re stabbing around in one giant motherfuckin’ haystack hoping to hit anything at all.”
“We could just wait for him to come back on his own,” Digits says a little too cool for my liking.
“He’s got no idea that his name’s been cleared, man,” I cut back. “So what exactly makes you think he’d come back on his own accord?”
“Hey,” he protests. “It was just an idea.”
“Pretty shitty one, jackass,” I mutter.
“Dog.” Crackers stares me down.
“Who’s goin’ then?” Murphy looks at each of us in turn. “I’d put my hand up, but I finally got that appointment for the ultrasound on my fuckin’ elbow I’ve been waitin’ for and I ain’t waiting another five months to get a new one.”
“Nope, you stay here,” Crackers says. “Digits, I need you around to keep checkin’ for any hits on his number or bank account.”
The shithead scowls at our side of the table: Jo-Jo, myself, and Mel.
“I’m disposable,” I pipe up before the crazy fucker to our left has a chance to say anything. “Got nothin’ else important on.”
Crackers frowns chewing his bottom lip. “I’ll run it past King, first.”
“Yeah,” Digits snipes. “Wouldn’t want to get you grounded now, would we?”
I flip the asshole the middle finger, ready to throw down if he so much as utters another word.
“I’m going too.”
The entire table turns its attention toward Mel.
“Pardon?” Crackers visibly reels at her statement.
“Are you sure?” Murphy tests. “You might not like what you find.” His tone borders on condescending—only a fatherly figure like Murphy could pull it off without insulting anyone.
Mel squares her shoulders, her hand slipping from my leg as she straightens in her seat. “I appreciate what you’re saying, Murphy, but with all due respect, I’ve seen more than I should ever have to. I’ve picked him up off the floor and wiped his vomit from his face when he had one too many pills. I’ve nursed my brother’s strength back when he thought alcohol poisoning would be a swell way to start his summer. And I’ve also witnessed my mother do the same for my father when she thought nobody was around to see him in that state.
“I’ve been there, done that, and I’m ready to do it all again if it pieces what little I have left of my family back together.”
I couldn’t be more proud of her. She’s shown more selfless purpose in that single moment than in all her efforts to find a reason to be home the last couple of weeks.
Problem is, I still think she doesn’t realize it.
“If you’re sure.”
“I am. I’m ready for Hooch to come home now.”
“Aren’t we all,” Crackers agrees as he smacks the gavel down. “Let’s make sure it’s the last time I have to do that for a while, huh?”
TWENTY-FOUR
Mel
Dog walks in as I hastily stuff clothes into a rucksack I borrowed from Beth. He disappeared straight after the meeting with Crackers, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out why they suddenly needed privacy.
Me.
“King give the okay?” I ask as I roll a pair of leggings into a tight ball.
“Yep, he did.” Dog leans a hip into the wall beside my set of drawers, watching with folded arms as I pick out my underwear.
“Oh, stop it.” I can’t help but smile.
“What?” He smirks. “Just wonderin’ if it’s the only chance I’ll get at seein’ them.”
I’ve got no answer for him; I couldn’t be sure myself. Yes, I could carry on with the rigid answer that I want to be treated better than what a known playboy could offer me, but what kind of fool would I be if I held that opinion up? Especially when all Dog has done is show me how caring and thoughtful he can be.
I’ve given this man nothing, not a single damn thing, and yet here he is, standing beside me ready to help without any expectation of reward.
At least, I don’t think so.
“You don’t have to do this,” I say. “I know you and Hooch weren’t exactly best buddies.”
“So?” He frowns.
“So, if you want to hand this off to someone else, now’s the time to say so.”
“Why do you keep pushin’ me away?”
“Why won’t you let me?” I set my handful of panties and bras down in the open bag. “You? Me? It just spells trouble.”
“Why?” He pushes off the wall and crosses over to where I stand beside the bed. “Because of what these ignorant assholes downstairs think?” He shoves his hand out toward the door.
I pull my head back and frown.
“Yeah, that’s right,” he bites out. “I’ve had the talk, too, babe. Warned off upsetting the precious little Mel. But you know what?” He thrusts a finger into his chest. “I know you better than they do. I get to see the real you, the one who isn’t worried about how she’s standin’, or what she’s wearin’. I see the girl behind that pretty face and she’s even more fuckin’ stunning than you’ll ever give her credit for. She’s strong. And what’s more, she might think she’s lost her identity, but that bitch is so fuckin’ sure of who she is it frustrates the fuck outta me that she can’t see it.”
“I don’t know who I am,” I cry in frustration. “A poster girl for the club? A name only? What the fuck is my purpose here, Dog, if you can so clearly see it? Tell me!”
His nostrils flare, and he takes a second to check himself as the tip of his tongue presses against his top teeth. “You hate bein’ called a princess, right?” He whips his head back, waiting for my answer.
“Yes. You know that.”
“What if I told you one of the women I admired the most as a kid growin’ up in my cunt of a father’s house, was a princess?”
What the fuck is he on about? I frown hard, my top lip tight as I try to work out where he’s going with this.
“Princess Diana, Mel. You remember her?”
“Of course I do.” Who could forget the amazing things that woman did before she was taken so tragically? “But what does she have to do with me, here, now?”
“You, Mel, are like Princess Diana to this godforsaken club.” He tosses his hands in the air, clearly over trying to explain it. “Compassion, thoughtfulness, not a mean bone in your goddamn body.” He paces to the closet and then back. “You got back here and the first thing you were worried about was looking after the people in your chapter. You fuckin’ organized a rally—at least planned one—just to try and cheer them up.” He laughs, clipped and bitter. “Fuck woman, you watched over me when I drank myself stupid, even after the asshole things I did.”
“Anybody would do that,” I whisper.
“No, they wouldn’t,” Dog shouts. He charges forward, gripping me by the shoulders. “You have any idea how hard I want to shake the fuck out of you, so you finally see what I see, what everyone sees?”
I wince at the grip he has on me. “I think
I get it, yep.”
“So what is your purpose, babe?” he asks, fingers still tight on my flesh. “Tell me.”
“To care?” What good is that, though?
“To look after those around you. We’re packin’ up to set off across the fucking country, without a clue where we’re goin’, just to go get your brother, for fuck’s sake. You’re puttin’ yourself at risk by walking into an unknown situation without a goddamn care in the world because it means helping someone you love.”
My eyes burn and I snort a little laugh as I look all around the room but at his face. He’s condensed down the very thing I’ve been struggling to see, and now that it’s laid out so damn clearly before me, all I can wonder is how I was so blind before?
I do love without reason, care for others without any expectation. And I can’t imagine a life without the opportunity to do so. Maybe that was what drove me crazy being stuck in the middle of nowhere? I had so much damn time on my hands to make a difference to the people I care about, hell, to anyone’s lives, and yet it was all wasted.
I sat idly by as my father and sister went into battle for the club, unable to do a fucking thing to help—even if I knew there was no way we could win.
I should have been there when it happened. I should have been here afterward while the club grieved. I was stashed away for safety, and yet I couldn’t have cared less about my own wellbeing when people in my life needed me.
“I’m sorry if I was harsh with how I said it.” Dog’s hands drop away as I remain silent, lost in my head. “I just … I wish you could see it.”
“I do.” My voice almost fails me, drifting away on the last word.
It’s all I can see.
“Come here.” He reaches out, tugging me to his front.
My arms wrap around his midsection, and I turn my face to the side, closing my eyes as my cheek hits leather. Dog holds me tight as I breathe him in, his hands bunched in my shirt and hair.
What the hell would I have done without him? Without his guidance?
“I’m so thankful for you,” I murmur against his chest. “Promise me we’ll never lose this.”
“Never.” He places a soft kiss to the top of my head. “There ain’t a damn thing you could do that would make me walk away.”