by Ambere Sabo
“Don’t really see the need for it,” I answer with a shrug.
“Name’s Rodeo,” he tells me as he puts his hand out for me to shake.
The Sons’ president. Of course, he is. I shake his hand in stunned silence. I sit before a man who could’ve ordered my death. Hell from what the prospects are told, he’s ordered many of my brothers to their graves.
“You could’ve killed me the minute I set foot in your compound.”
With a nod, he slides a beer across the counter. “This is true, but then I couldn’t have seen what kind of man you truly are.”
“What?” I ask with a shake of my head.
“You left. Brittany called here the minute she got Mari calmed down. You saw what your presence did to her and instead of making her give you the answers you wanted, you left. Not many in your club would’ve done the same. Your father wouldn’t have.”
“I’m not my father,” I say through gritted teeth.
“I can see that,” he says, taking a drink of his beer. “So, what did you need to know from Marisol? Maybe she isn’t the only one who can give you the answers you seek.”
“I just want to know what happened. What he, they, did to her.”
“You sure you need to know this? It isn’t pretty.”
A nod is the only answer I can give.
“Okay then, remember you asked for it. Your father hunted her down the day after you’d been to Blue Bells and demanded she give back the four hundred dollars she’d been paid to fuck you.”
My jaw ticks at the mention of her being paid. Fucking bastard.
“When she told Wrecker she didn’t have the money because she’d used it for rent, he lost it. She begged him to give her a few days to make the money and pay him back but he was drunk as a skunk and wasn’t in a forgiving mood. He beat her up pretty badly before dragging her into her house. She said he grabbed the first thing he could find, the knife block. Took his time carving up her face too and left her on the floor to die when he was done.”
“But she didn’t die,” I interrupt.
“No, she didn’t. Her friend was watching her children for her that day. They found her when they returned to the house. She’s lucky they came when they did, another hour or two and she wouldn’t be breathing today. After a few hours in surgery, they were able to save her vision and stop the bleeding.”
“And she quit Blue Bells after that?”
“No, Hawk paid her to leave.”
“What?”
“She’s lucky Wraith had a soft spot for her. Your father wanted her dead. Instead, they gave her ten grand and told her if she ever came back, they’d let him do what he wanted.”
“The fuck?” I roar, standing from my seat. “Why the hell would Hawk defend that son of a bitch?”
“I imagine because he can’t control him. Never could. Hawk’s lucky your father stepped down as VP after Hawk’s old man died and left him the club. Everyone thought Wrecker would have that patch until death, and more than a few are still pissed he doesn’t.”
I knew he’d stepped down as VP years ago, and that’s why they let him dole out punishment as he sees fit. Patch or not, he still has the power he had before, even if they don’t see it.
“I know this is a lot to take in. But I want you to know, not all clubs condone the shit your father does. Some are built on brotherhood, respect, and love of the open road. We’ve watched the Reapers for years, know your enemy and all that shit. I’ve seen you grow up in our world. You're meant for this, club life. Just maybe not with the one you think you are.”
He doesn’t say another word after that. He walks away to leave me with my thoughts. I finish my beer and ride out. I can’t bring myself to go back to that fucking clubhouse. To see the men who let my father rein terror on those around him. Instead, I go to the only place I’ve ever really felt safe, Ma’s.
Chapter 7
It’s been weeks since I’ve been back to the clubhouse. Weeks of me out casing a raucous wherever I go. I haven’t worn my cut since I turned up on Ma’s doorstep crying like a fucking little girl.
Doesn’t change the fact that everyone knows who I am, cut or not. I can never get far enough away from Wrecker to lose the likeness we share. That’s why they’ve called me Mini for fucking years. Same crystal-blue eyes, sandy blond hair. Hell, we have the same fucking nose.
Tonight I plan on changing that. In a drunken rage, I walk into Blue Bells with one single thought in my mind: the bastard needs to die.
“Where is he?” I holler at the group of men who should be my brothers. They all sit in a side section of the club. Each of them has a girl perched in their laps, but my father is nowhere to be seen.
“X, my man. Where ya been, brother?” Rebel asks as he grinds his jaw. “Where’s your cut?”
“That’s none of your fucking business,” I growl. “Now, where the fuck is Wrecker?”
Diesel stands from his seat, pushing the girl off his lap as he does. The rest of the dancers take note and slowly leave the area as he walks up into my space. “He should be here in a few. Why? We got a problem?” he asks as he slips his hand to rest on his gun.
“Do I need to show you some manners again, boy?” Wrecker asks from behind me, making sure to pat me on the back right where my scars lie.
Not giving a fuck about my life or what happens to me from this moment on, I pull my hand from my pocket, clutching the hunting knife he gave me for my tenth birthday. Then I turn around. Before he even knows what’s coming, I press the blade against his throat.
There’s no fear in his eyes when he looks at me, just rage. Rage that I’d even think to draw a weapon on him. I know all the men behind me have their guns drawn and ready to shoot if he’d only give them the all clear. He’s not stupid though. With our bodies this close together, there’s always a chance the bullet could hit him too.
Slowly, I walk him backward until he bumps against the wall. Through gritted teeth, I ask him, “Why’d you have to hurt her? She didn’t do a damn thing worth those scars.”
“Those scars are your fault, X. If you’d done what she was paid for, nothing would’ve happened to that girl. She’ll look in the mirror the rest of her life remembering what a little bitch you were,” he tells me with a chuckle.
“Son, put the knife down,” a voice to my right says.
Rodeo places a hand on my shoulder as he shakes his head at me. “This won’t change the past. You out here wreaking havoc every day won’t do Mari any good. And this,” he says, nodding at Wrecker, “will only end up getting you killed.”
Rodeo stands with four other Sons behind him. The Reapers outnumber them two to one, but he doesn’t care. I don’t know why he’s here or who the fuck called him, but just seeing him calms me.
Gradually, I pull the knife from the bastard's neck. “You aren’t fucking worth it,” I say, turning away from him.
“Kill him,” Wrecker growls to the men behind me.
The click from multiple guns fills the air as they prepare to follow his orders.
“Let the boy leave,” Hawk’s voice booms from the door.
In the chaos, I’ve caused, the club has cleared out. The only one not wearing a cut in the entire building is me.
With a hand on my shoulder, Rodeo leads me from the building. As we pass Hawk, he looks at Rodeo with disgust, and through gritted teeth asks, “You know what this means for him?”
With a nod, Rodeo tells him, “We’ll discuss it later. Right now, the boy needs to cool off.”
Without any explanation, he guides me by the shoulder outside to my bike. “Follow me,” he orders.
There’s nowhere else to go. The Sons’ clubhouse is probably the only place in town I can step foot in right now without someone putting a bullet in my head. Son or not Wrecker will call every fucker he knows until I pay for what I did tonight. Twenty-six stitches was what I got for costing him four hundred dollars. Nothing less than my death will suffice this time.
The Sons seem to know I’m
a dead man walking too. They surround my bike as we ride to their clubhouse. Men who don’t know a fucking thing about me protect me from my own flesh and blood. How has this become my fucking life?
Chapter 8
Sitting at the bar, I drink a beer, thinking about every little thing which got me to this barstool—what I could’ve done differently. I could’ve fought going with Wrecker as a kid. I could’ve stayed with Ma and Lil and turned my back on this life. Instead, I was just a dumb kid who thought his father walked on water. God, could I have been more wrong?
“You look like you’ve got the weight of the world on your shoulders right now, Son,” Lynch says as he slides onto the stool beside me.
“I’m a dead man,” I tell him, picking at the label on the bottle before me.
“You definitely have gone and made a fucking mess of things. What the hell were you thinking going in there causing that kind of havoc?”
“He deserves to die for what he did to her. What he does to everyone…”
“Never a truer statement has been said, but that’s not your decision to make. Right now, Rodeo is trying to make sure it isn’t your head that ends up on the chopping block, X.”
“Don’t call me that,” I grind out.
“You said the words and took the cut, Son,” he says with a shrug.
The only way to break it is death…
“Great… If my father doesn’t find a way to kill me, the club will.”
“No, they won’t, Son,” Rodeo says, coming up behind the bar. “You’re no longer a Reaper.”
“No,” I yell, slamming the stool back. “Ma and Lil will suffer. He’ll take it out on them. He’ll find a way to hurt them to get at me.”
“Calm down, Eric.”
Eric. God, it’s been so long since someone besides Ma called me by my name.
“I know your father better than most. You’re all officially under the protection of the Sons. Hawk will make it known. Wrecker can’t hurt you anymore.”
He can’t hurt me anymore…
Never in a million years did I think I’d hear those words. Feel this relief. It all seems too damn good to be true.
“How?” I whisper.
“Hawk owed me a favor, so I called it in,” he says with a shrug. “Wish I could’ve seen his fucking face when I told him.” He chuckles before taking a draw from the bottle he just opened.
“Anna?” Lynch questions quietly.
“She’d have been proud that I used it for this. Vic deserved better than that piece of shit, and she knew it. Now, they can finally all move on.”
“Anna… Aunt Anna? What the hell are you talking about? What does Reine’s mama have to do with any of this shit?”
With a sigh, Rodeo downs the rest of his beer. “I didn’t know Reine’s mama, Son. Never did.” Without another word, the man walks away before I even have a chance to say thank you.
“You have your life back now, Eric. Maybe stop wreaking havoc for a while and enjoy it, yeah?” Lynch says, clasping a hand to my shoulder before getting up from the stool and leaving me with my thoughts.
Free… I never thought this day would come. Never thought it was even an option. I barely know the man, and he just irrevocably changed my world without wanting a damn thing in return. How is this even possible?
Epilogue
Is it weird to say I miss it? Miss the club life. The chaos of it all. The Reapers… they have their faults, but they were family. A dysfunctional as fuck family, but a family nonetheless.
Being back home is weird. I barely know Ma and Lil, something I hope to change. But I feel like I’ve been thrown into the deep end with this shit. Sharing a bathroom with a twelve-year-old is like the seventh layer of hell. Why does she need so much shit in the shower? I mean come the fuck on who needs options when it comes to shampoo? Is that really a thing?
Soon after Rodeo stepped in, Wrecker smashed my bike to pieces, said he paid for it anyway and I didn’t deserve to ride. So, here I am driving up to the Sons’ compound in Old Blue, Ma’s 1984 Chevy square body. It feels weird to be enclosed in metal. To not be able to feel the wind on my face.
I don’t know what Rodeo needs to talk to me about, but I figure when the man who saved me from losing my life asks me to come around, it’d be rude as fuck to say no.
Pulling up, I park beside a shit ton of bikes, more than I’ve ever seen here before. Getting out of the truck, I can hear the sound of kids laughing somewhere out back. Not a sound I ever heard at the Reapers’ clubhouse. They aren’t exactly a kid-friendly kind of club. Most members hardly even see their kids. They put the club and that family before even their own blood.
The door has a handwritten note taped to it. “Party’s around back,” is the only explanation given. Fuck, I hope I don’t have the day wrong. Why the fuck would Rodeo want me here for a party?
Following the sound of laughter, I walk around to a BBQ, the likes of which I’ve never seen. There has to be at least a hundred people here today. I can’t help the confusion when I see Lil run past me, chasing two other teenage girls. The smile on her face is a rare one. Or at least, it is for me.
I’ve only really spent time with her on one of the rare occasions Ma let her visit Wrecker at the clubhouse. She spent so much time trying to get his attention that there wasn’t much time for fun and games.
Milling through people who all smile at me, I finally find the man in question. And I’ll be damned, if he doesn’t have his arm around my fucking mother.
Pushing through the last of the people, I stomp right up into his face. “Is this why you fucking helped me? Because you’re fucking my ma?” I yell.
“Eric,” Ma scolds. “I didn’t raise you to talk to people like that.”
“No, Ma,” I seethe. “You didn’t raise me at all. You left that to the psychopath you call a husband. Remember him?”
“Son, you’ll watch your tone with your mama in front of me,” Rodeo growls at me.
A hand clasps my shoulder. “Already wreaking havoc I see. This town is small Eric. We all grew up together. All you’re seeing right now is old friends catching up,” Lynch explains. Making me feel like the ass I’m being.
“Ma, I’m—” I start to apologize.
Putting a hand up, she tells me, “It’s fine, Eric. One day you’ll understand I did the best I could. That’s not what we're here for today anyway.”
Reaching out, she takes my hand in hers, and I follow her back to the front of the compound, walking up to the cleanest Harley Roadster I’ve ever seen. “For you, my son. I know how much you love the ride. Whether I like it or not, it’s a part of you. So is all this,” she says, turning to gesture at the grounds around us.
“Ma, I don’t understand,” I ask, shaking my head in confusion.
“It’s why I called you out here today. It’s why all these people are here. This is what a club is supposed to be like. They love and support you and become the family you need,” Rodeo says, only confusing me more.
The Sons who once littered the backyard have now converged around us. Lynch parts through the crowd carry a box similar to one I’ve seen before.
“You were born into this life, Eric, but sometimes even God can get it wrong. That’s when you build the family you need rather than the one you’re given. Let us be your family now. It’s a second chance, Eric. If you want it,” Rodeo explains as Lynch pulls the cut from the white box in his hand.
Stepping forward, he holds up a cut which doesn’t say prospect as it should, but instead, Havoc is sewn into the name patch. Looking up at me, he smiles, “It’s always good to remember what you’ve been through, Son.”
Ma takes it from him and slips it onto my shoulders. The Sons, my brothers, cheer and holler as I look up at my new beginning. My new family.
The End
Also by Ambere
The Silent Sons MC Series
Cessy, A Silent Sons MC Novel Book One
Havoc, A Silent Sons MC Novel Book Two
Enterrador, A Silent Sons MC Novel Book Three
Lilly, A Silent Sons MC Novel Book Four
Mythic, A Silent Sons MC Novel Book Five
Cessy Sneak Peek
Prologue
Cessy
I’m a woman, a daughter and the only blood relative of his left, but in the eyes of some in his club, it’s a disgrace that I should lead the last Rev. Fuck that bullshit. Pops would have wanted me to start the chorus of revving motorcycle engines announcing to heaven that my dad was on his way. This club is the center of my world and has been since I was twelve years old, but to some, I’ll always be the reason the club changed. Like I want that responsibility, or that I wouldn’t give anything for my mama to still be riding bitch on the back of his bike.
Is it my fault the man he left me with, turned out to be a monster in disguise, may the bastard rot in hell? No, none of that is my fault, so they can fuck off. Right now, ask me if I give a damn about any of their opinions. My father, the man who raised me the best that he could, is being buried in a box today. Should I know as much about gun-running and strip clubs as I do? Hell no, but I am the Prez’s daughter, and no one can deny that.
Hell, I ride better and handle more club business than most of these lazy fuckers anyway. The will Pops left makes sure that doesn’t change anytime soon either. That’s where all the bullshit started. The new Prez, Wraith, loves my pops and trusts him, even in death, more than anyone else in this world. So, he’ll do everything he can to make my pops proud when it comes to the club.
Loki, The Reapers’ Treasurer, doesn’t agree. He wants me gone, and I’ll stay just to spite the slimy bastard. I know he’s responsible in some way for my pop’s death, and I will fucking prove it, even if it takes my last breath. If another club is involved in him stealing my father from me, it’ll be fucking war. I am Reine “Cessy” McIntosh, the Prez’s daughter, and I am out for blood.