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Though Ruin played shit cool for far too long for my tastes, he finally went berserk one night at Dogwood Lake. As soon as heavily pregnant Pigeon’s dead body hit the ground, my friend since childhood snapped. He turned from a patient golden boy to a savage monster. It was a glorious sight to see. Lil Danny ended up losing his head. I still remember the asshole’s screams as we started cutting.
That bloody act set off a war between the Jordan family and the founding members of a club we hadn’t named yet. Over the next months, we killed every man in their family and organization.
During the war with the Jordans, we hid out in the dense, often dangerous land of McMurdo Valley. During that time, I grew to both love and hate my friends.
By the time we sent the remaining Jordans—only women and kids—to the south side of town to live in muddy poverty, I’d suffered a few bullet and knife wounds. That spilled blood sealed my fate. I was never leaving McMurdo Valley or the Steel Berserkers Motorcycle Club.
We ended up buying a tourist lodge on a plot of picturesque land. For ten years, everyone lived in the Pigsty. It’s not a garbage heap despite what its name suggests. The massive lodge is handsomely crafted and well cared for.
It got its name from the Monday housekeeper. The cleaning company came around every day, but the main chick had to deal with the leftover mess from our weekend parties. She’d move around the place for hours, cleaning and muttering, “What a fucking pigsty.” Goose got to calling the lodge that as a joke.
Pulling my hog up to the parking lot of the lodge, I think about how comfortable I was living here. I only left because of Kati and the baby. I’d been in a rush to give my kid a real home. The place wasn’t finished by the time Kati gave birth and I realized I’d been had.
I could have come back here. Yet by then, I’d gotten possessive of my new home. Returning to the Pigsty would have felt like a step backward. Now, with Landry and the kids, I’m relieved to have the space.
“Look who showed up,” announces my club brother Martin “Walla Walla” Carter as he pounds my back in his playful way.
If my long-haired, blond club brother weren’t family, I’d kick his ass for putting his hands on me.
“I show up plenty,” I mutter and frown at the men looking at me.
Many are in their thirties, a few even younger. They got patched into the club long after we painted the Valley red with the Jordan family’s blood.
These people are my family, yet I’ll always be the grumpy older brother who wants them to fuck off.
“If you’re waiting for an apology, you’re bound to get bored,” I tell Walla Walla.
Grinning at my comment, he pounds me on the back again. When I reach for him—just to throw a loving punch at his smirking face—he runs out the back door. I’m about ready to chase his ass when the front door opens.
“How’s domestication treating you?” Ruin asks me as he enters the Pigsty with Armor and Goose not far behind.
“Same as you, most likely. Didn’t you just move your woman into your house?”
“Yeah, Selene loves it there.”
I hear what he doesn’t say. How he loves having her around. We can’t announce we’re whipped for a single woman. No one in the Steel Berserkers Motorcycle Club has found any luck with romance. I never thought we were built right for commitment. My shit with Kati and Ruin’s attempt at marriage seemed to prove me right.
Now, he’s real hung up on this new woman. Selene might be skittish in a way that annoys me, but I can tell she makes my president happy.
“How many kids you got now?” Goose asks as her blue eyes glare as if I’m up to no fucking good.
Armor smirks at his sister’s tone. A couple of the founding members—Eagle and a returning Walla Walla—sidle up to our conversation. Suddenly, I’ve gotten myself an audience.
“With the baby, it’ll be five.”
If anyone other than my club laughed at me, I’d go berserk on the motherfuckers. I have zero sense of humor for ninety-nine percent of shit in life. However, I allow my club family to enjoy a good chuckle at my expense.
“Holy shit,” Walla Walla says, shaking his head.
“They seem like good kids,” Ruin announces before anyone starts ragging on them and forces me to pound a fellow Steel Berserker. “They’ve got a quality mom, too. If you see them around town, be sure to treat them like family.”
Ruin’s always had a way of sounding easygoing while also making people feel under threat. The guy was elected McMurdo Valley’s mayor, only partially out of fear. A lot of people think he’s fucking great. It’s his golden boy looks. Women believe he simply needs a good woman to settle him down. Men suspect he’d be fun to have a beer with on a Saturday night. The elderly assume he’ll listen to their boring stories. Kids figure he’s a big fucking softie.
While none of those assumptions are particularly wrong, there’s a reason why Ruin is our president. I’ve never seen anyone go from super chill to homicidal with such ease. Walla Walla walks around, perpetually happy. When he loses his temper, it’s a long time coming. Guys like Armor and me are always in a bad mood. No one is shocked when we lash out. Ruin’s violent nature startles people all the time.
That’s why our club brothers take his word seriously. Not that I worried about them treating Landry and the kids wrong. We’re a tight-knit group. That’s why I got so much shit for bailing on meetings and parties lately. These people are the only family I’ve ever trusted.
Now, I have Landry and the kids. By last night, they looked at me like I was part of their group. We had dinner out on the back patio. Brooklyn and Beckett played on their swing set. Blair rode her new bike around the smaller path. Beau relaxed with his blocks in the sandbox.
