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I rush him, tackling him to the ground, and our fists are flying, mine catching him in the face and his catching me on the shoulder and jaw, a couple missing. Somehow, I end up on my back, and I feel the fury, the grief, and the frustration of Axle’s loss coming through his fists.
We’re pounding the shit out of each other, brothers who’re bonded for life. I feel lost right now. I didn’t do this shit; he did.
We roll back over, and I repeatedly jump up and kick him in the side. “You ain’t shit, Axle!”
I feel hands grabbing me as Axle slowly gets to his feet, wobbling.
“You ain’t shit!”
“Enough!” Frenchie says on one side of me, and Snake on the other.
The others lead Axle away into the clubhouse.
“Cool out, man. Come back tomorrow with a straight head,” Snake says.
I hop on my bike, filled with a righteous fury that what I do is the only way to right the wrongs. Yet, at the same time, I’m grieving the loss of a close friend.
11 – MONI
After Nitro had beengone a couple of hours, I ordered some takeout Thai from a little place around the corner. I ordered enough for both of us in case he returned. I toss my empty tray into the trash can and return to the living room.
After I finish, I call Tiff and then Niecy chatting with them for a while, trying to find some semblance of normalcy, but there’s none to be found.
There’s a bookshelf on a far wall, and I find it amusing that a biker has a bookshelf. Standing, I walk to the shelf and look at the books. Most of them are mechanical books, books about guns, knives, and ancient weapons.
There are a few books in there that I find interesting, likeRepublicby Plato,Meditationsby Marcus Aurelius,The Nicomachean Ethicsby Aristotle, andTao Te Chingby Laozi, just to name a few. I’m impressed because the books look well-read.
Perhaps this man is deeper than I originally thought. I stop at a red leatherbound book with no title, and my curiosity compels me to pull it from its shelf.
It’s a family photo album. A smile lights my face as I take in a gorgeous couple. The man looks significantly older than the woman, but I know they’re a couple by how he looks at her. The love is evident in his eyes.
Ryan is a carbon copy of his father with those light green eyes and dark hair. Though the man is bald, his thick beard is black and white.
On the other hand, Nitro looks just like his mother. She’s a beautiful Mexican woman with long, dark hair and those same glowing dark brown eyes. If he were to smile, would his smile be like hers, contagious and lighting up his entire face like hers?
Taking the photo album back to the couch, I flip through it. The next picture is of the couple holding the twins as infants. Every few pages show the passage of time as the twins grow, from learning to crawl and walk to their first day of school and learning to ride bikes.
