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“It was,” he clarified. “It will be again. But it isn’t right now.”
Voss wasn’t a talkative man, but when he did choose to speak, he tended to drop a lot of wisdom on your ass.
You wouldn’t expect it to come from him. From the outside, or even upon first acquaintances, he was a bit of a brute.
Once you got to know him, though, you started to realize just how much life he has lived, how much shit he’s gone through and overcome. Or, at the very least, made it out of alive from.
And on the nights following long drives to somewhere, or nowhere at all, he would let those little bits of wisdom, of philosophical shit, slip out.
“Yeah, I guess that makes sense,” I agreed, exhaling hard. “So, what do you think? You regretting following me here?” I asked.
“Nah. Figure maybe stability might be good for me,” he said, looking out on the water once again.
I wasn’t sure Voss even truly understood what stability was. He’d never known it. He moved around. He job hopped. He never had any family or friends.
Until he decided to save my life, I guess.
I was probably the first and only friend Voss had ever had.
Even so, I’d been surprised that he wanted to prospect. It didn’t surprise me when he’d originally floated the idea. We talked about shit we might do all the time. But when he stuck with it, then came back to Navesink Bank with me, I’d been shocked.
Because prospecting meant you had any intention of being a patched member. Which was a lifetime sort of thing.
Maybe he’d figured he’d been enough places, seen plenty of things, and that it would be nice to see the same shit for a change.
I got that.
As much as I liked the road, something about knowing who I would see and what places I might frequent felt good after so much uncertainty for so long.
“Don’t even have your own room yet,” Voss added when I thought he was done speaking.
That was true too.
We were holed up in the prospect room which was a large space with bunk beds and not much else. I figured it was a way to force prospects together, to make them form bonds through the process that was becoming a member of the club.
I wondered, but didn’t ask, if the others had been forced to do the same. Had Fallon and Finn and Seth slept in the prospect room? Or had they just been given rooms because they had never left?
I didn’t ask. I didn’t want to seem like I was complaining. It wasn’t bad. I mean, Voss and I had shared a room, or an open sky, for a long time.
I just couldn’t help but feel a little, I don’t know, second-class compared to the others.
Maybe I would feel better when Nave blew back into town to prospect alongside as well. He would, for all intents and purposes, be more of an outsider than the others as well.
It was about right then that Fallon waved us back out of the area by the pier.
“What’s up?” I asked, looking over at him, still finding it hard to accept at times that he was the boss. It wasn’t like there had been any question about it. He was always going to take over for his father. But it was strange to come back after the transition had taken place.
“Dunno. We are wanted back at the clubhouse,” he said, shrugging, then slipping his helmet on. “Meet you guys there.”
“Weird,” Voss said, but shrugged and got on his own bike.
“I’ll meet you there,” I said, having parked all the way at the end of the street because I’d gotten there later.
There was always something going on with the club, so I didn’t really think much of it as I drove back to the clubhouse.
Something about the Mustang in the driveway, though, had the hairs on the back of my neck standing on end. Even though that made no sense. I had no idea what any of the moms, dads, or cousins were driving these days. It could belong to anyone.
But as I got closer and closer to the door, something inside me said shit was off.
