“Cassie wanted to be here,” she told him evenly, “but we had a bad thunderstorm last night, and she wasn’t able to leave this morning.”
Cassie was Abby and Bulldog’s oldest daughter and Bree’s best friend. After being raised in one cult, sold to another at fifteen as a child bride, repeatedly raped by her new husband, and finally escaping when Abby broke them free, Cassie had a severe case of agoraphobia. She’d been doing very well in her treatment, even venturing beyond the club’s gates to a specific destination like the town bakery or the diner, but then her club cousin, Melanie, was murdered on her college campus. Since then Cassie’s symptoms had worsened to the point that even walking from her house to the clubhouse was a grueling task. She was currently taking online college classes and was still in active therapy.
“I’ll stop by this afternoon to see her,” Ranger promised.
The two stared at each other for a solid minute, the club still working on getting everyone situated. Bree was wearing the special harness she wore when riding that attached her to the driver—usually her mother, Angel.
“You scared me,” Bree finally said, her voice almost monotone. “Of this lot,” she gestured around them, “you were one of the few I thought I didn’t have to worry about. I don’t blame you,” she added hastily. “Mom and Pop told us what happened. I’m so sorry, Uncle Ranger. I know what it’s like to be treated like a thing, instead of a person. You were there for me during my darkest hour, and I’m here for you, too. Whatever you need. I’ve been doing a lot of research on AA and NA, and I can go to the meetings with you, if you want. A bunch of us have been going to Al-Anon meetings too, in anticipation of you coming home.”
This news startled Ranger greatly. If he was a cartoon character, his nearly white eyebrows would have shot up past hisforehead and up to the sky. Al-Anon was Alcoholics Anonymous for friends and family members of alcoholics, as well as other addictions. A small town like Mount Grove did have daily AA and Al-Anon meetings at a local church, whereas a more city-like town like Morgantown had more specific NA and Nar-Anon meetings. Once Ranger met his sponsor, a man named Stuart Cross, this afternoon, they would work out which meetings Ranger would be attending when. After a rehab program like Ranger had just gone through, they strongly encouraged a meeting a dayat minimumfor the first ninety days.
Ranger struggled to find his voice. “Thank you.”
Bree gave him a reassuring smile before wheeling herself away towards the trike she rode with Angel. It allowed Bree stability even when no one was sitting in front of her. While she had her driver’s license with adaptive equipment that allowed her to have hand-controls for the gas and brake, her parents were wary about her driving a motorcycle on her own. They were still figuring out a reasonable way that she could bring her wheelchair with her before letting her get her motorcycle license. Bree’s personal preference was to have a prospect follow her around all day like a servant.
She was joking.
Maybe.
Seeing others starting to get on their bikes, Ranger headed over to his. As road captain, Bear and Tessa were riding in the front. Ghost and Lucky with Scotty were behind them. Harper must be riding in a cage with her son and daughter, Conner and Stephanie, and likely keeping an eye on Bear and Tessa’s two daughters, Maggie and Julia. Though only months apart at four years old, many of the ol’ ladies were already planning Maggie and Conner’s wedding, since the two were inseparable.
Bulldog and Demo were next in line, both with their ol’ ladies, Abby and Paige. Glancing around, Ranger caught sightof Bulldog’s second oldest daughter, Lila, with Cage. She had a sparkly rainbow helmet that looked new, and with a jolt, Ranger realized he’d missed her tenth birthday two months ago. Jumper’s bike was next to Ranger’s, his service dog Aerial already in her sidecar with her helmet and goggles on. Ranger gave her a scratch behind the ear as he passed. Jasmine had her license, but did like to ride behind Jumper, too.
To his surprise, there was a blonde woman behind Keys. Ranger frowned, no one having told him that Keys was seeing anyone. He vaguely recalled some drama with Keys right before his relapse, but for the life of him, he could not recall what those details were. Maybe Ghost never even told him. Ranger hadn’t been to a Church meeting since before his and Becks’ kidnapping. Still, it wasn’t likeno onehad come to visit him or he wasn’t allowed supervised phone calls. If Keys was in a relationship, that seemed like the sort of thing that he would have been told. Next to Keys was Jigsaw, which surprised and irritated Ranger. Not an officer, Jigsaw had only been a member for two-ish years. He fell further down in the hierarchy than where his bike was currently positioned. Then again, Ghost had said that Jigsaw and Starbucks were sharing Ranger’s responsibilities in his absence. Was the club hoping to replace Ranger with Jigsaw?
Angel, Bree, Cage, and Lila were next, Bree’s wheelchair already being taken over to the trunk of one of the cages by a prospect. Pumpkin, Dosia, Starbucks, and Calliope rode next to each other. Though two years older than Calliope and raised as sisters, biologically Dosia was Calliope’s niece. Pumpkin got a big kick out of calling Starbucks, who was four years younger than him, “Uncle” or “Old Man”. Pumpkin and Dosia’s four kids, JJ, SJ, RJ, and MJ, were likely in a cage. Ranger didn’t see any of them about, though JJ was old enough to ride so long as there was a dual rider next to Pumpkin.
Pirate and Sophia rode next to Papaw. His ol’ lady, Louisa, was Bulldog’s mother andrefusedto ride on the back of a motorcycle. Having met Ranger’s mom on various visits and holidays before, it wasn’t surprising to see Louisa and Loretta get into the same cage. Ranger, though, frowned when he saw GrumpyandBones get into the same cage. He could understand Grumpy not being approved to ride yet, but why was Bones getting into a cage? Were his legs bothering him today?
Several engines turned on, not giving Ranger the opportunity to ask that question.
Another unusual thing was that the club’s newest members, Scooby, Boots, and Poker were set up behind the cages with Scar and Tally. Normally the cages rode behind the procession, rather than separating. Was that extra protection? It couldn’t be. If there was a danger, Ghost wouldn’t have allowed any of the ol’ ladies or club kids to attend. So what was the difference?
Not wanting to be the hold up, Ranger grabbed his helmet and straddled his bike. As they hit the road, Ranger couldn’t help but wonder what else he’d missed out on or kept out of the loop.
* * *
When Steel stepped downas president, he’d offered Ghost the house he and Jenna had lived in for the past eight years. Ghost had refused, even thoughtechnically, it was the president’s house. The clubhouse had apartments that Ghost, a bachelor, was perfectly fine remaining in, and there had also been an apartment above the bar where he and Ranger used to crash on occasion after super long shifts. After Melanie’s murder, Steel and Jenna decided to leave Mount Grove. They bought a motorhome, packed up their house and their now eighteen-year-old son, Ollie, and hit the road. With no reason not to, Ghost moved into the president’s house.
But for a single man, the two-story, four bedroom house was huge, so Ranger had moved in with him. For a year, the two of them shared the house just like they shared much of their lives, from the bar to women. Then Ranger had brought Ghost down to Alabama for his sister’s wedding—where Ghost stole the bride. A sentiment Ranger never thought he’d be grateful for, but was now.
At the time, though, Ranger had been pissed. He’d moved out of what was now Ghost and Becks’ house, and in with Cameron. When he needed a break from Cameron, he had stayed at the apartment above the bar. After the kidnapping and his ten-day hospital stay during his first withdrawal, Ranger had to move back into the house. It wasn’t like Ghost or Becks had taken over or remodeled his bedroom in the weeks he was out of the house. He hadn’t moved all his belongings to Cameron’s.
Two weeks later, Ranger relapsed.
In a way, that timing felt like a dream. He’d understood Cameron and Ritchie were keeping him high during his captivity. They’d even tried not to give him so much, but during his lucid time, he’d tried escaping. To this day, Ranger couldn’t help but wonder if he’d been more compliant, would he not be so addicted to heroin as he was now. If they’d given him just a little bit less, if he hadn’t struggled so hard, would he crave that poisonous euphoria as much as he did?
But how could he not try to escape? How could he not try to save his little sister who was kept in a separate jail cell next to him? So close, but so far.
In the end, as much as he hated his current circumstances, he would have hatedhimselfmore if he hadn’t done anything to try to save Becks, and his unborn niece or nephew. While she suspected she was pregnant at the time, it wasn’t confirmed until after her rescue and hospital stay.
Stepping into the house that smelled like dryer sheets and sweets, it didn’t feel like home. Not the way it had during the year that Ghost and Ranger had lived here together. Ranger loved his sister, and wanted nothing more than her happiness. The changes she’d made to the house were subtle, but enough that this was no longer Ghost and Ranger’s bachelor pad.
But it wasn’t like Ranger had anywhere else to go. Part of his rehabilitation was that he couldn’t live alone, or it wasn’t recommended anyway. Technically, Ranger could do whatever the fuck he wanted, but he also had no intention of going back to see Colby the Asshole or Dr. Sutton with his eagle eyes. He would follow the recommendations to the letter, running his life with the strict rigidness he’d been accustomed to in the military. Even if it included living with his little sister and her husband.
Not that Becks minded. Shewantedhim here, had never wanted him to move out in the first place. That had been Ranger’s decision, not wanting to be a floor below whatever it was Becks and Ghost were doing upstairs. He would love his future niece or nephew with all his heart, but he did not need to know the details or sounds of their conception.
While the clubhouse had been an idea that was floated around, it was quickly nixed. Privacy was the opposite of what Ranger needed right now. The first ninety days after rehab were statistically the hardest.
