“Then trust your brothers. Trust yourself.” He clapped me on the shoulder. “And trust the call you made on Danny. Handful asked the question. I didn’t. The boy’s solid, he’s earned his place, and we all had a first run — you remember yours. Kid’s lucky to be riding it beside you.”
I wanted to believe him. Wanted to let the words settle into the anxious part of my brain and quiet the constant hum of worry. But I kept seeing it — my mother in the doorway, the floor coming up to meet her.
“I’ll try,” I said, because it was the only answer I could give.
“That’s all I ask.” Dutch released my shoulder and moved toward the door. “Now go home to your woman. You’ve been here since dawn, and she’s probably worried.”
I found Danny in the garage before I left, elbow-deep in the engine of his Sportster. He looked up when I approached, grease smudged across his forehead and a grin splitting his face.
“Holden! I’ve been practicing the plug repairs like you showed me. Got my time down to six minutes.”
“That’s good.” I leaned against the workbench. “But don’t chase the number. Focus on making the repair, clean. If you pick up a nail out there, a plug gets you back in formation in minutes. Anything worse means sitting on the shoulder until the follow van catches up — fifteen minutes minimum, longer if they’re handling something else. On a run, that’s the difference between riding with your brothers and being a target on the side of the road.”
“Got it.” Danny’s grin sobered into something more focused.
“How are you feeling about the run?”
“Ready.” The grin didn’t falter. “I’ve studied the route, memorized the checkpoints, practiced every scenario you outlined. I won’t let you down, brother.”
I’d been that sure once. “The thing about runs,” I said carefully, “is that no matter how much you prepare, something unexpected can always happen. The key is staying calm when it does.”
“I know. You told me.” Danny wiped his hands on a rag and turned to face me fully. “Stay alert, trust the formation, follow your lead. I’ve got it.”
“And if something happens to me?”
His grin faltered. “What do you mean?”
“I mean if I go down, if I’m compromised, if you can’t follow my lead—what do you do?”
“I…” He hesitated. “Fall back to Colt’s position?”
“And if Colt’s compromised?”
“Dutch?”
“And if everyone’s compromised?”
Danny was quiet for a long moment, the weight of the question settling over him. Finally, he said, “I protect the cargo. Get it to the rendezvous point no matter what. Even if I’m alone.”
“Even if you’re alone,” I repeated. “Even if you’re scared and everything’s gone to hell and you don’t know what’s happening. You complete the mission. Because the club is counting on you.”
He nodded slowly, some of the bravado fading from his expression. Good. Fear was healthy. Fear kept you alive.
“I understand,” he said. “I won’t let you down, Holden. I promise.”
I looked at him. Nineteen years old, full of potential and determination, so eager to prove himself. “I know you won’t,” I said. “Get some rest. We’ve got a long few days ahead.”
I walked out to my bike. Sun low, air warm, visibility clear for miles. Good riding conditions - and Bea waiting for me at home.
I stopped at the small general store near the clubhouse before heading to Bea’s, picking up the flowers she liked. Nothing fancy, but they always made her smile. The woman behind the counter, Margaret, had known me since I was a kid. She’d gone to church with my mother, had brought casseroles after my father died.
“For that girl of yours?” she asked as she wrapped the lavender.
“Always.”
“You never forget her.” She smiled. “She’s lucky to have someone who thinks of her like that.”
“I’m the lucky one.”
