Page 2 of Chains and Vows

"And I'm not gonna answer to you, Crow. You whiney fuckin' piece of shit. Did I abuse you as a child? Nah. That wasn't me. I gave you a way out. And you, you selfish fuckin' bastard, have the audacity to tell me to hurry up?"

I look at the rest of them now and I step into my role as president of this club.

"You do not get to tell me to hurry the fuck up and fix your shit. You all are here to do your fuckin' jobs. The job you signed up for. My job is none of your fuckin' business. So every fuckin' one of you will go on pretendin' that nothin' has changed. Because I need time to figure this shit out and if ya'll can't wait for that like grown-ass men, then there's the fuckin' gate. You can take your chances out there without me."

Then I get back on my bike and ride out. Hard. Fast. With a twist of the throttle that makes the engine scream like I wanna scream.

The world blurs around me, dirt and anger and fuckin' frustration all mixin' together as the dust kicks up behind me like the cloak of some Old Testament God.

I don't think about nothing but what's right in front of me as I make my way back to Savannah's house. I just be present in time. The night is cool, but not cold. The whole fall has been unnaturally warm and I take a moment to appreciate that because I don't even have a fuckin' car. All I got is this bike. And bikes stay parked in garages when the summer turns in Montana.

It's a blessing and I count it.

I start countin' them all.

Little things first. Like the blanket of stars above me. The Milky Way stretchin' on like a cloud road that never ends.

The fact that I'm still here, tryin' to set things right.

Savannah.

She's what I think about as I make my way home.

And yeah, to answer Diesel's question this mornin’. Yeah. It's home. It really is home. It's strange to think about when I attach the Ashby name to it. But that's mostly because of Eleanor. Residual baggage, and nothin' else.

I stop by the trailer and pack a bag of clothes and grab a carton of smokes that lives above the fridge. Then I leave, lockin’ the door behind me.

Four months ago, this trailer felt like a dream house. Now I've got the audacity to call the Ashby Ranch home.

Funny how reality slides around like that. Rearrangin' itself into something you never even dreamed of.

By the time I reach the long driveway I've decided two things.

One. The universe favors the bold. The fastest way to rearrange your life is to tell it to fuck right off.

And two. There is a way out. Because Legion Kane doesn't exist in a world where he traffics children.

I see Savannah standin' on the porch with her arms crossed against the cool night. Hair fallin' loose around her shoulders, bare feet on the wood. Fuckin' destroys me every time, seein' her waitin' like that. Like I'm someone worth waitin' for.

And it just hits me all at once. Things could be a lot worse than they are right now.

I got a woman who actually loves me. Not the idea of me. Not what I can do for her. Not who she thinks I might become someday. She loves the mess I actually am.

As I put the stand down on my bike, I make a decision. Whatever bullshit Mike is cookin' up with his secret fuckin' highway and his truck full of kids can wait until tomorrow. Club business can happen in work hours.

This is my real life.

I slide my arm around Savannah's waist as we walk inside. She feels perfect there, tucked against my side. Warm and soft and mine.

"Everything OK?" she asks, lookin' up at me with those blue eyes that see right through my bullshit.

"Yeah. We're good." I don't elaborate.

"What's in the backpack?"

"Clothes."

I look down at her standin' there in her bare feet with her make up all worn off, and just want to feel somethin’ clean. So I ask, "You wanna take a shower?"