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Crow finally reaches the top and collapses beside me, picking up the camping cup filled with tea ready for him.
We sit in comfortable silence for a while, with me reading my book and Crow sat peacefully, between checking his phone and simply using the silence to breathe for more than a minute, between the Club’s angst and drama.
The Clubhouse and The Dark Cobras seem to have this stigma attached to it. The stigma that allows everyone to think those inside of it are violent, angry, aggressive killers. They are the rumours and taunts I grew up with as a child, and although that’s not completely inaccurate in some aspects, it’s also a big fabrication in other areas. My dad does his best to keep me sheltered from the life he leads, though when he shows up wounded, there’s only so much he can hide. I’ve read stories about motorcycle clubs, gangsters, the mafia, and so much more, and I’m sure that’s what the little town around me perceives the Club and the Cobras to be, but it’s not. It doesn’t hurt to have them think that though, because it means people won’t mess with you which is what my dad always reminds me. Let people think what they want as long as you know the truth.
“Did you put any sugar in the tea, Char? You know I need sugar in my tea.” Crow and his obsession with having half a pot of damn sugar in his tea is madness. Six spoonfuls is his minimum – yes, minimum.
“There is sugar, Crow, just not enough to give you a heart attack and shut you up, sadly.” I don’t look at him as I speak, my attention still on the book in one of my shivering hands.
I turn back to my book, until I notice Crow moving in my peripheral. He’s pushing himself up from the floor with one hand whilst still smoking with the other. As I look up at him, he takes off his leather jacket, embroidered with the Cobras emblem on the back, and puts it over my shoulders.
Immediately, I feel the weight of it. It’s real leather and to be big enough to fit the giant next to me, it’s bound to be too big for me which only adds to the weight around me, but I love it. I don’t particularly like my body being on show. It’s not as though I don’t like it, although there are parts I’d change, the same as anyone I suppose, it’s just for comfort that I love to wear things that overwhelm my body. That and my belief that I shouldn’t need to show my body to receive the looks from men that my dad and Crow are certain I get constantly – I don't ever notice it but I don’t argue with them either. I glance up at Crow as he reaches his hand out for me to take it. I do. His hands feel rough on mine, and for the millionth time since he came around, I wonder if there could ever be more. I’ve been feeling closer to him for some time, idly wondering if the possibility of more than what we have could ever be real.
“It’s getting dark, let’s take a stroll home before your dad gets back.” His voice sounds rough, though not anywhere near as affected by the cold as what I’m sure mine would be if I said anything right now. So instead I give him a small nod and let him lift me from the floor.
“What’s going on with my dad and the Cobras, Crow?” I ask. It’s why I wanted to venture out today, to see if he knew anything.
“What do you mean?” He begins shifting uncomfortably at my question.
“He’s been acting weird. I dunno, he’s always out more and he won’t tell me where he’s going lately, which is unlike him. I know something is happening, everyone’s always at the Club having meetings and no one will tell me anything. Is it about Gray? Have they found out who it was?” I know I could be wrong, but no one could find any solid proof around Gray’s disappearance and although they suspected it was The Devils Henchmen, a rival motorcycle club, no one could do anything without some sort of proof without causing uproar and chaos.
“You know I can’t tell you anything, Char. You know I would if I could, but I just can’t risk it.” So there is something going on. There must be or he would just tell me there was nothing.
“Can you at least tell me if it’s about Gray? He’s my brother, I deserve to know.” Crow knows how much Gray’s disappearance has affected me.
He rubs at the back of his neck, sighing before turning back to me.
“They don’t know where he is, but they have someone who might. That’s all I can say, alright? I shouldn’t even be telling you that. You know your dad would skin me alive for telling you anything, Char.” I know he’s right, that no matter how much my dad adores Crow, he doesn’t want me involved or knowing anything more than the essentials, the bare minimum.
“I know. I know you telling me anything is a risk and I’m sorry to ask but thank you, thank you for telling me.” I appreciate it more than he could possibly know.
I pick up my tin, the flask, and empty cups before placing them in my backpack and closing the zip. I put the backpack straps over my shoulders, on top of Crow’s jacket, and began the walk back home with him.
“I can’t tell you what but there is something your dad is planning on approaching you about though, Char. Not Gray, but something I need you to think very carefully about before you commit. Do you understand?”
“Not even a little bit, no. What is it?” I wonder.
Crow doesn’t say a word, just sighs and shakes his head as he puts his hand on my lower back and tells me we should go.
“Well? What do I need to think very carefully about?” I ask lightly as I echo his serious tone.
“You have to swear to me you won’t say anything, Char, and I mean it. I’m only telling you because I think it’s a shit idea and I think you have the right to have the heads up about it.”
I nod my head, apprehensive suddenly, nervous. Crow is very rarely this sceptical or serious.
“They’re talking about merging with The Laidens,” he says as we continue to walk. He takes my hand in his, rubbing my palm with his fingers.
The Laidens are a motorcycle club not far from us. There are often tense ties between clubs and although there are very loose connections between the Laidens and The Dark Cobras, from what I can gather it seems they have been trying to join bands for a while.
“OK, but that has nothing to do with me.”
“It could have everything to do with you if you marry their president's son.” Crows voice comes out quiet, yet cold as ice, similarly to how the pit within my stomach drops as every ounce of blood within me freezes.
“Marriage? What are you talking about?” I rush out as I stop mid-step and turn to Crow, grabbing hold of his arm as he halts and sighs before finally turning to look at me.
“You can’t tell him I’ve told you, Char, but that’s the offer. You marry the son and the clubs merge.” His words hit me like a tonne of bricks, knocking the oxygen out of my constricting lungs.
“There’s no chance of a merge without that?” I question.
