by K E Osborn
As far as I’m aware, they know I had another life, they know I grew up and went on to live a ‘normal’ life. Why they didn’t come after me, I don’t know. How I’ve lived this long in Chicago without one of them approaching me, I don’t know. But I always slept uneasily thinking one day they would come for me.
Being scared of the consequences, I never mentioned anything about the location and what happens with the Sovereigns, apart from telling Bex some aspects of it. I never wanted them to come after my new family, I never wanted the flow-on effect that me talking might have had on the people I love.
Always being aware that one day, maybe, they would destroy my family.
Seems like I’m the one heading into that territory now.
Self-destruct mode.
Is that what this is?
I don’t fucking know as I near home—my clubhouse. The unease of being near the Sovereigns is waning as I relax getting closer to the brothers I love, who I know will protect me if shit ever did hail down all over my family and me.
As I ride along Stevenson Expressway, something catches my eye as it drives past me. It’s not the swanky car that’s caught my attention, it’s what’s hanging from the rearview mirror. I squint as I take in the sight of the small wooden cross with chains dangling there, taunting me. A symbol of the Sovereigns. I turn my head a little more in an attempt to see further into the car. The man driving the white Lexus RX 350, the black-haired man at the wheel, damn he looks so familiar.
My stomach churns as a thought crosses my mind. I glance at his hand to make sure, he always had a distinguishable birthmark from the tip of his pinky finger halfway up his forearm.
It’s there.
I near the turnoff even though I’m not watching the road in front of me. My stomach flips as he starts to take the exit away from me.
“Luc?” I call out even though I know he can’t hear me.
Sure, it’s been nineteen years since I’ve seen him. Sure, he was only sixteen, but it has to be him. The birthmark is exactly the same, his hair the same black, it’s even the same length, his face still with his boyish good looks—there’s a familiarity there that has me certain.
This is him.
It has to be.
He turns off the Expressway taking his exit. My chest heaves as I finally spin back to the road in front of me to see a line of cars stationary ahead. My chest tightens, my stomach pulls up into my throat as I drop down my gears wrenching on the brakes as my bike grinds to a stop, the back wheel sliding to the side as it lurches forward. I grunt out a hard breath as my ride pulls up only a few inches away from the car in front of me.
A hand flies out of the vehicle in front, he flips me the bird and hurtles abuse. Throwing my hand up in a form of an apology, I try to straighten my ride before the lights turn again.
My heart hammers in my chest as I turn back to see Luc’s car, but it’s too late.
He’s gone.
In the past nineteen years, I’ve never once seen him. Not once. I never knew if he was alive, if they held him captive, if he was a part of them, or if he got out.
But now I know.
It’s him.
It’s definitely him.
The symbol in his car gave it away. He’s still in the Sovereigns. Just how deep, I have no idea. But I have to find a way to get to him. I left him behind. His life would have been hell when I fled without him. Guilt floods through me as the lights change, and the cars in front of me take off. I pull back on the throttle heading for the clubhouse. I need to get back to my brothers. I need to sort this out because if Luc’s still the same man he was, then he needs help getting out.
I won’t fail him a second time!
CHAINS
My head’s all over the place as I storm inside the clubroom. It’s just before lunchtime, so the place is alive and buzzing. Brothers are playing pool, they’re at the bar drinking, and sitting around chatting. It’s all casual for a normal Sunday. But this Sunday is far from normal for me as I walk around feeling slightly dazed and a little confused.
I saw Luc.
I haven’t seen him since I was sixteen.
Since I abandoned him.
But I see him almost every night in my nightmares. His haunted face, his pain-filled screams. I stumble toward the bar reaching out for the woodgrain, knocking over a stool in the process as Sensei looks me over.
“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” Sensei blurts out as he casually sits at the bar.
I don’t even know how to answer him. My fingers run through my hair, my eyes feeling glassy. “I need church… now!”
Sensei stands abruptly, grabbing me. He looks into my eyes assessing me. “You need to calm down first. Talk to me.”
I shrug out of his grip as I start to pace the floor. “No, I need Torque to hear me, Sensei. This can’t wait. It’s too important.”
Sensei exhales but simply bows his head. Turning, he strides off, I’m assuming to find our president. The tension inside me is wound tightly, like a spring in a clock that’s turned taut and threatens to give way, as I continue to pace the floor by the bar. I don’t have my chains on me right now, but I feel like I need them. I don’t know why, I’ve never been able to understand it only that I feel freedom when I have them. After all, they are the symbol of my torture, but now they’re my source of comfort. When I get anxious, when I get nervous, even afraid, I hold onto my length of chain and somehow it gives me the support I need to know I can make it through any fucking situation life throws at me. If I can make it through life with the Sovereigns, I can make it through any damn thing.
I need them right now.
My chest squeezes, so I go to head off to my room to grab them, and when I turn around, I see Torque and Sensei walking toward me.
My anxiety wanes as I’m filled with determination when I see my president. He assesses my state as I breathlessly stride up to him.
Torque’s eyes narrow as he looks me up and down. “Chains… you look a little off, brother?”
I let out a long breath. “Torque, I need you to listen to me.”
He bobs his head. “I’m listening.”
“I need church. I saw something, someone from my past.”
Torque’s eyes narrow. His hand reaches up cupping my shoulder as some sort of sympathetic look crosses his face. “Okay, I’m hearing you.” He spins, letting out a loud whistle through the clubroom. Everyone looks our way as he licks his lips. “Patched members into the chapel, we have church, right now,” he instructs.
The resounding sound of chairs scraping on the concrete filters through the air. He slaps my back leading me to the chapel. Brothers flood into the room taking their seats. Torque at the head, me to his right, Trax to his left. Surge pulls in next to me. Lift and Vibe take up the other seats next to Trax while Sensei slides in next to Surge. Scratch is at the end opposite to Torque. Ace sits at his tech station.
Following club rules, Pyro wouldn’t normally be in on church—mostly church is held with only the hierarchy of position holders—because if every patched member sat in the room, it would overflow. But I think with his time at the club, and the fact he’s taken ownership of the President and the VP’s sister, he’s been allowed access to these meetings. Even though he’s only been an officially patched member for the lifespan of a mayfly, we all cut him some slack. He’s one of us, always has been. So, he’s sitting in the corner at the back. He won’t have a vote, but if he has an opinion, he’s allowed to air it.
The room door shuts quietly as Torque bangs his gavel on the wooden desk. Tension rolls through me as I sit forward in my chair. My hands knot together on the desk as unease washes through me.
“Chains had an encounter today and needed church. You all know about as much as I do, so I’m gonna let Chains take the floor. Chains…”
Torque looks at me, so I take a deep breath steadying myself. “As you all know, my early childhood was rocky. I know Torque, Trax, Surge, and Ace all understand what I was bo
rn into, but I don’t know if all of you do?”
I glance across the table at Lift and Vibe and watch as they shake their heads letting me know they have no idea what I’m talking about. So, I grit my teeth preparing to tell them. “I was raised in an organization men are bred into… the 87th Street Sovereigns.”
“I’ve heard of them… whores, child labor, dog fighting, real bad shit, right?” Scratch asks at the end of the table, his long, dark brown hair flowing around his face, the scar down his eyebrow looking more accentuated today for some reason.
I bob my head once. “Yeah. That’s them. They train their young boys from birth to be the men who lead the organization. Their idea of training is torture.” I shudder as a flash of being chained to those damned crosses comes into mind, but I shake it from my head as I continue, “The thing is… when you’re a boy going through the training, you’re not alone. Other boys go through it with you. You make friends. Or at least, I made one while I was there.”
“How’d you get out?” Pyro asks from the back of the room.
An image of a sixteen-year-old Bex flashes in my mind. Warmth floods through me making me feel less anxious. She saved me, but this isn’t the time to discuss that.
“That doesn’t matter right now. What matters is the boy who was my friend at the time, Lucian. I called him Luc. When I escaped, I left him behind…” I grit my teeth feeling my stomach churn. “I’ve felt sick about it every single fucking day of my life since. But today, on the ride back here from the Kline’s, I saw him... I saw Luc.”
Eyes wander around the room looking at each other. Unspoken words being said, I just don’t understand what they are. So, I say more to convince them. “Look, I don’t know what condition Luc’s in now. I don’t know if he’s in deep with the Sovereigns. I don’t know if he’s there against his damn will. All I know is I need to find out and get him out of there. I failed him once… now I know he’s still alive, I can’t fail him again.”
Torque looks at me rubbing the back of his neck. “How do we know he’s there against his will and not a part of them?”
I grimace. “We don’t.”
Torque slumps in his seat rubbing his brow. “Why should we do this, put our lives on the line for a man who may not even want to come with us?”
Shrugging, I huff. “You shouldn’t. In honesty, I don’t want any of my brothers to get hurt fighting for my past, it’s not worth getting hurt over. But Luc… he’s worth it to me. He was my brother before you guys became my family… and I Ieft him behind.” A lump gets caught in my throat, so I clear it before continuing, “If you let me, Torque, I’ll go in and find him. I can bring him back on my own. I’ll test the water on his loyalties myself. If he’s a liability… I’ll end him.” My lips curl up in a smile. “I don’t want any of you hurt in this.”
Torque sits back in his chair, putting his hands behind his head as he looks around the quiet room. Each brother taking in my pleas. “Here’s the thing, Chains, Luc may have been your family, but we’re your family now. If you’re going to get him, there’s no fuckin’ way you’re going in alone. We stand together. They don’t call us Defiance for nothing. We need to put this to a vote. Those in favor of helping recover Luc, say aye.”
Hope filters through me as a resounding “aye” echoes around the room. I drop my chin to my chest in relief while attempting to keep my composure.
Thank fuck.
“We’ll do this with you, Chains. But if it any stage it gets fuckin’ dicey, we’re out.”
Looking at my president, I nod in agreement. “Thanks. Thank you all.”
“We got your back, Chains,” Trax calls out.
“Yeah, brother, whatever you need,” Sensei adds.
I dip my head in thanks as Torque bangs his gavel. “Brothers, we know what we’re gonna do. We’ll start making our preparations, but for now, disperse.”
Everyone goes to leave the table, and I stand up with them. I move in next to Torque gripping his shoulder. “Appreciate this, Pres.”
He exhales. “Well, let’s just see how it all plays out before you go thanking me, yeah?”
I know what he’s saying. Luc’s been in the Sovereigns nineteen years longer than I was. He could be drastically different. He was only a scared boy when I knew him. Who knows what he’s like now. I know I need to have my eyes open with this.
Trax and Ace walk over to us obviously to gather some intel as they look me over. “What can you tell me?” Ace asks.
This is happening.
It’s actually happening.
“The Sovereigns are located in Burnside. If we’re to get Luc out, we need to do it carefully. Maybe while he’s not actually at the inner sanctum but without the guards present.”
They all nod as Torque gestures to Ace. “You need to find a way to track Luc’s movements. We need to figure out the best place to find Luc when he’s away from their inner sanctum without a protection detail. If he’s alone, we’ll be better off, and the more chance we have of talking to him to see if he’s on their side.”
This is our best play.
We find Luc, and if we have to, we bring him back from the dark side—Star Wars pun not intended.
BEX
It’s officially been a week since Chains did something I thought he’d never do. He changed our relationship. He pushed us over that line—over that damned blurred line we’ve been hovering over for years now. Sure, I’ve seen it, the way he’s looked at me one too many times. Sure, I’ve felt it, the pang of jealousy when I see a woman hanging off his arm. Looking at him makes me feel all kinds of things I know I shouldn’t, I have for years. Probably since the first time I saw him. He may have been a mess in the park, but I saw him–His vulnerability, even as a sixteen-year-old boy.
Mom and I were going for one of our usual after-dinner walks. Dad was working on his stock market shit, and Mom liked to try and keep active, but with working all day, the only time to exercise was at night. We liked to go for walks together—a sort of mother-daughter bonding time.
Mom was a workaholic. Sometimes I wondered if she loved those foster kids more than me because she spent a hell of a lot of time with them, but then I would remember that they didn’t have a loving home like I did, and I needed to stop being a brat. Being a sixteen year old was damn hard.
Mom was on her cell, an emergency call had come in, so Scruffy and I were walking on ahead. Scruffy had a mind of his own, he really was a one-of-a-kind dog. He was so loving, always caring and knew when you just needed some love. Suddenly, he took off. My heart leaped into my throat as I ran off after him into the park, my feet hardly keeping up with him.
“Scruffy, Scruffy, come back,” I called out as he ran toward a bench where I could see a boy sitting looking like he was a little lost.
His back was to me as Scruffy ran right up to him and started sniffing. The boy appeared all kinds of disheveled as I cautiously approached him. He petted Scruffy with a dazed look in his eyes. Wearing only a tatty pair of shorts, he was shirtless, but that’s not what caught my attention. His chest was covered in scars and some fresh open wounds, not to mention the dried sludge which was covering him from head to toe. My heart ripped out of my chest. Instantly, I knew he needed my help, but I wouldn’t be sad for this boy right now. In this moment, he needed a friend. The problem was even with his scars and worn body, there was something about him. Even broken and beaten, the spark in his eyes, the warmth radiating off him, something about him drew me to him.
He felt like home.
“A-Are you okay?” I asked quietly as he studied me like he’d never seen a girl before in his life. The light in his eyes let me know he felt like I might be his home as well.
He didn’t answer, only swallowing hard, his body shaking slightly. So, I took a step closer to him. He looked terrified, but something in him showed me he wasn’t terrified of me, just maybe of what he’d been through. But it was his eyes, his ice blue eyes that were watching me intensely which had me capti
vated. I wanted him to look at me like that for the rest of my life. I didn’t know him. But I wanted to get to know him. Every part of him. The good. The bad. The ugly. I couldn’t explain it. Here was this boy, beaten, broken, a shell, and yet the draw to him was instantaneous. I couldn’t explain it if I tried.
“Hi… I’m Rebecca. My friends call me Bex. Can you tell me your name?” I asked stepping in front of him completely unafraid of his appearance.
He shook his head, and I smiled at him. “It’s okay. You look like you’ve had a rough day. Scruffy found you, though, and he likes you. So, I can tell we’re going to be good friends. Mom and I were taking Scruffy for a walk. Mom’s just over there. We had to stop ‘cause she got a work call. She’s really good with kids like you. We can help you, Mr. Quiet Pants,” I prattled on hoping to make him feel more at ease with me being a Chatty Cathy.
He let out a small laugh. It filled my heart with warmth to know that even in the state he was in, with whatever he’d been through, I was the one to make him laugh. I didn’t know his story, but I wanted to. I so desperately wanted to know everything about him even if it took a lifetime to get there.
“Rebecca?” Mom called out.
I swung my head to where Mom was walking over. I saw her eyes narrow as she took in the boy on the bench. He tensed up, and I put my hand on his muddied arm. A pulse ran right through my fingertips straight into my chest. My heart pumped faster as I saw his breathing hitch. Our eyes locked as we stared at each other.
“It’s okay, we’re going to help you.”
Since then, my life has been about mending him, about making him feel better. Our later teenage years were spent together while fighting this pull, this connection. Well, it was just what had to be done, it’s the natural order, isn’t it? The fact I’ve never acted on my feelings is because there’s rules about such things. Isn’t there?