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“Angel wouldn’t have wanted anyone else. You know what else, no other guy would have respected her the way you do. There are some evil bastards out there, and they would’ve walked all over her. You know that. I know that. Angel is a kind soul, but we all know in this club that she is easily taken advantage of.”
“Tate makes sure that doesn’t happen, and besides, Angel is better now than ever before.”
“Agreed. She doesn’t fall for every single sob story she hears.”
Lash sighed and sat down on the dusty attic floor. “I’m looking for some of Anthony’s baby clothes. In particular, the leather cut. You know, the one I got specially made for him.”
“You mean the one that Tabitha and Miles had?”
“Yeah.”
Nash looked around. “Why would they be up here?”
“I’ve already checked at home, and other than a few baby trinkets, Angel donated his clothes, or what could be donated. She refused to get rid of the leather cuts. I figured they’d be here if anywhere.”
“Okay, well, let me help.”
He searched for the boxes, but some of the shit he didn’t even know what it was. The attic had become a dumping ground, and he didn’t like it.
“Is this it?” Nash asked, picking up a small box.
They moved toward the small circular light Lash had fixed up there. After pulling out his knife, he scored it across the tape, and they opened up the box to see the leather cuts, neatly folded. This was Angel’s doing. She loved things to be tidy. He fucking loved that woman.
“Do you want to tell me why you’re getting out old memories? Anthony ain’t going to fit in that.”
“Shut the fuck up. I know he’s not, but I don’t know, I feel like I need it.” Lash sighed. “He’s planning on taking some time with the Nomad Chapter.”
Nash winced. “Are you sure he’s ready for that?”
“Hell, no. He’s my son. I know some men would be thrilled for their kid to be going on an adventure, screwing everything that moves, but I don’t want him to go.”
“You do know it has been a long time since there was an attack on them,” Nash said. “The worst could be over.”
“I know it could, but would you risk it?” Lash asked.
Nash paused as he was about to answer.
“See,” Lash said.
“You know, all of this shit seemed fine when we were growing up,” Nash said. “You know, the danger and the chance of getting killed. Learning to fire a gun. Beating the shit out of people who said a bad word about The Skulls. Doing drugs runs, the gun runs. Earning our patch.”
“And now with kids, it scares me. I mean, I’ve got Connor, who seems to have a bit of a psycho phase at the moment. He’s always watching horror movies, and don’t even get me started on his fascination with the axe. Then you’ve got Chloe. My little girl, and I know guys are going to want to be dating her. There’s no fucking way she’s having a boyfriend or a girlfriend. She’s grounded for life. Then there’s Anthony. Miserable, broody little shit that he is, and his fascination with Daisy. Fuck me, when did life get so fucking domestic?” Lash asked, holding on to his son’s old leather cut.
“I’d say right around the time that you started to make changes, but they’re changes that needed to be made.”
“They still come with risk though.”
Nash laughed. “Everything in life comes with risk, Lash. We make a difference now more than ever. There was a time that I would think about getting high. To just lose myself in the drugs, but I don’t because I know there’s a chance I’m going to be needed. That you’re going to need me, and I can’t let you down.”
“You don’t let me down.”
“Not now, but I have.”
“Don’t feel guilty for that shit.”
“It’s not about feeling guilty. It’s about making amends. You fought for me then, and I’m fighting for you now. Having that patch.” Nash pointed at thePrezthat was sewn onto his leather cut. “You deserve that more than anyone else, and you never should forget it.”
Chapter Four
