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I give Rebel a nod, do an about-face, and walk across the compound. The door is open. I pause for a moment, clenching my fists and steeling myself for the conversation that lies ahead.
Dane sits behind a massive wooden desk, a fortress of organization in the midst of chaos. His long, dark hair is pulled back into a loose ponytail, and his ice-blue eyes are laser-focused on the documents spread out before him.
“Hey, Dane.”
Dane looks up, surprise flickering across his face when he sees me. “Dirt, what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Uh… w-we need to talk,” I stammer, rubbing the back of my neck.
“Sure thing, brother. Have a seat.” Dane gestures to the worn leather chair opposite his desk, concern etched into the lines of his face.
“Thanks.” I sink heavily into the chair and stare at his hands, callused from years of hard work, as I gather my thoughts. “I don’t really know how to say this, so I’m just gonna come out with it.”
“All right, shoot. What’s on your mind?” Dane leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest.
“Look, man... I need to leave the club,” I blurt out, then swallow hard, feeling like I’ve just jumped off a cliff without a parachute.
“Leave the club?” Dane echoes, his voice rising an octave. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“Look, Dane... it’s Lore.” My voice is barely above a whisper, as if saying her name aloud makes this decision all the more real. “I can’t stay here without her, and she won’t stay. You know how she feels about the MC.”
“Jesus, Dirt.” Dane sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “Permanently?”
“Not to start with. I need six months.”
“All right,” Dane says finally, his voice heavy with the weight of the moment. “I won’t stand in your way, but understand that leaving the club ain’t like quitting a job. There could be consequences.”
“I know,” I reply. “But I’ve got to do this. For me and for Lore.”
“Then go,” Dane says quietly. “Just don’t forget who you are... and where you came from.”
“Thank you, brother.” A feeling of relief and bittersweet regret washes over me.
“And if the Abruzzis come for us?”
His question catches me off guard. My immediate thought is, of course, I’ll return, but if I do, I may lose Lore.
Dane studies me, disappointment in his eyes. “Would you come to stand beside me, brother?”
“Yes.”
Dane stands, holds out his hand, and we shake. “May that day never come. See you in six months.”
Stepping out of the office and into the sunshine, I inhale a breath and slowly exhale.
Dane let me off easy.
“Hey, Dirt! Where’re you headed?” calls out Jonas from a few feet away.
“Got some personal business to take care of,” I reply, forcing a smile. “I’ll catch you later.”
The time for explanations will come, but now is not that moment.
“Take care, man!” Jonas says, raising his hand in a salute.
Striding across the compound, I straddle my bike, turn it on, and rev the engine. With one last look at the clubhouse, I turn my gaze forward and ride away.
Chapter Seventeen
