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Throwing back the sheet, I head for the shower. Sleep isn’t coming for me tonight, so I might as well go to the compound and see if anyone is awake. We’ve got a couple of new prospects, and as a patched-in member, it’s my duty to guide and keep them out of trouble.
***
Yellow tape flickers on the ground near the gate. No doubt the sheriff wanted us to stay out of the clubhouse until he’d finished his investigation, but the only people killed were outside the fence, apart from Tobias, who is still hanging on.
Climbing off my Harley, I stare down at her paintwork. She’s a 1958 Duo-Glide with original aqua and white paint work. Kat gave her to me for Christmas one year. She rides like a dream, and I take the best care of her.
There’s a light on in the garage, so I navigate the maze of bikes and make my way toward it. It’s dimly lit inside, and the air is heavy with the pungent aroma of oil and exhaust. The place hums with activity. A grease-stained Renny is standing beside a workbench with an assortment of scattered tools on it as he stares at a carburetor, perplexed. He leans over it, wrench in hand, with a look of determination on his face.
“Can’t sleep?”
Renny jumps and drops the wrench. “For fuck’s sake, Dirt, don’t sneak up on me.”
“Man, I didn’t. But you seem focused on the carburetor.”
Renny bends and picks up the wrench. “It’s out of that old pickup truck, and it’s filthy. I’m amazed it was working. I’m going to clean it and then use the compressor to blow all the shit out of it. Why are you here?”
“Couldn’t sleep. You?”
He purses his lips, puts down the wrench, and leans against the workbench. “The trouble we had here the other night was all my fault. I’m glad Thea and Zach weren’t hurt, but because of me, Tobias was. I’m not sure how to feel about that and what I can do to make up for it.”
Surprised at his honesty, I move to stand next to him. “Wasn’t your fault. They came looking for you, and Tobias was in the wrong spot at the wrong time. It could have been any of us.”
Renny scrubs a hand over his face, smearing the grease and giving him a ghoulish appearance. “I’m not sad they are dead. I guess I wish things had turned out differently.”
“If wishes were horses, beggars would ride.”
Renny cocks his head to the side. “What?”
“It means if wishing could make things happen, everyone would have a Harley, or, in your case, no one would have gotten hurt. What’s done is done. We all need to move forward, you included.”
Renny nods and stares at his carburetor. “I should get this finished.”
“Yeah, I’ll be in the clubhouse if you want to get a drink or talk.”
Renny screws up his face but nods and goes back to the carburetor. He’s been through a lot, so it doesn’t surprise me he can’t sleep, but taking the blame for the assholes who came after him isn’t right.
Leaving the garage behind, I make my way into the clubhouse. The atmosphere shifts as I enter what has always felt like hallowed ground. With low lighting, the scent of well-worn leather and camaraderie in the air, it creates a sense of belonging. The walls are covered with patches and emblems, each telling a story of chapters, adventures, and loyalty.
The heart of the clubhouse is the long wooden bar where a bleary-eyed Rebel is serving drinks. Behind him is an array of motorcycle memorabilia on shelves with bottles of alcohol. There are faded photographs of club members pinned behind it, their expressions a mix of adventure and brotherhood.
A pool table takes center stage, and conversations fill the room, punctuated by laughter. It’s a place where allegiances are unbreakable and bonds are formed. Well, it’s how I’ve always felt about the clubhouse. The outside world fades away as I step into a sanctuary of shared experiences and the enduring kinship of those who live for the open road and the unbreakable brotherhood of the club.
“What can I get you, Dirt?”
“Whiskey, straight up.” The clubhouse is busier than normal. “Why the crowd?”
Rebel pours my drink. “The gunfire, Tobias, and let’s not forget the newest editions to our ranks.”
Frowning, I tilt my head to the side. “Who?”
“The twins.” Rebel grins. “It’s a celebration for them, and also some of the other chapters were worried, so they sent reinforcements.”
“And you’re telling me this now?”
“Jonas knows. I assumed the VP would tell you.”
Shaking my head, I throw back the amber liquid and slam the glass on the bar. “Another.”
