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I don’t slow my pace as I untuck my shades from the pocket of my cut and place them over my eyes, shielding me from the burning sun and its judgmental glare. Kicking the stones at my feet, I cut across the yard, following the telltale sounds of tools being put to use as I near Ryker.
He’s flat on his back with one of our project bikes hanging above him. He doesn’t even attempt to rip me a new asshole because I’m later than I told him I would be.
Instead, he lifts his eyes slightly to find me as I come to a stop beside him, my shadow falling over the length of him as he quirks a brow. “You look rough.”
I scoff at his assessment as I take a sip of my coffee before placing the mug down on the tool box to my left. “Thanks, I fucking feel it too,” I grumble, tying my hair up into a bun at the top of my head so the wind doesn’t continue to float it around my face.
Ryker rises to a sitting position as he places the wrench beside him. I don’t miss the concerned look that instantly crosses his face.
Fuck.
I know what’s coming, it’s always the same, but at least I can shield my eyes from his intense gaze today. Maybe I should start wearing my sunglasses more often.
“We’ve talked about this, Ax,” he starts.
“No, Ryker, you talked about it, and I listened. I just didn’t take action like you hoped.” My muscles tense, fighting against me and my words, but I don’t retract the truth I know I’ve spoken. “Besides, there’s bigger shit going on that we should be discussing first, Prez,” I add, hoping to change the subject.
“Fuck off with that bullshit.” Ryker stands and wipes his oily hands down his jeans.
“Why? You love it. Don’t say that you don’t.” I’m teasing and he knows it, but I’m probably coming across harsher than I intend to because I really don’t want the conversation to turn back to me.
“Of course I do, Axel, but I barely slept a fucking wink last night after everything that happened. Someone called that hit and I have to hope and pray that we retaliated correctly.” He sighs, raking his fingers through his hair before reaching for my mug and downing the last of my caffeine.
I bite back a grunt, focusing on the conversation instead. “Maybe dickhead one and dickhead two were supposed to die sooner rather than later, and maybe it was a sign that it wasn’t your burden to carry. Their blood wasn’t meant for your hands.”
Ryker folds his arms over his chest as he looks up at the sky, his eyes falling closed for a brief moment before he sighs again. “That might be true, but it doesn’t fill the gaping hole of rage that’s been tearing at my insides for the past twelve months.”
Cutting the distance between us, I squeeze his shoulder, tightening my grip when he doesn’t instinctively turn toward me, and after a moment, he meets my gaze. “I’m sure it doesn’t, Ryker, but maybe you’re supposed to fill that hole with something else. If anything, it should definitely shift the weight of the world that’s been riding on your shoulders this last year.”
I don’t do deep and heavy, but my friendship with Ryker is different. He’s my brother above anything else and if he needs a good fucking pep talk, then I’ll happily provide one. Although, I would much rather do the talking with my fists than my lips. That’s more my idea of fun.
“You’re right, but it’s only shifted thefullweight of the fucking club onto my shoulders now,” he grunts.
“Please, like you weren’t already carrying us.”
A rag comes flying toward my face the next moment before falling to the floor, and I’m more than sure he tells me to fuck off under his breath, but I let it slide as silence descends around us.
I bask in the silence, enjoying the tranquility of the birds chirping in the distance, no engines revving, and the sunshine beating down on us. “You doing okay?”
It’s not every day a Prez dies and a new one replaces him. Wiping out another MC with no bullshit declaration of war, just getting the fucking job done, isn’t the norm around these parts. But we did it and I wouldn’t change a damn thing either. The reality, however, only serves as a reminder that these actions should have been taken in retribution and honor of Ryker’s father when he was killed last year. But nothing happened, or, not enough happened.
It’s been hard on all of us, but no one more than Ryker.
“I’m good, man. I would be even betterifyou kept away from the white stuff and actually made it out here on time to help me like you said you would.”
Fuck, I thought I had gotten away with it.
It feels like razor blades rip at my throat as I swallow back the guilt. The thought of going cold turkey makes the scar on my back burn like a raging inferno. The memories flicker through my head, tempting me further down the dark, tainted path, but I force it to the back of my mind like I do every time.
I’m sure I’m going to have to deal with all of my issues one day, but today isn’t that fucking day.
“Less of my bullshit and more of yours,” I grumble, patting him on the shoulder before I point toward the clubhouse. “I think you need to wipe off your hands and shake off your cut because a precedence needs to be set today. Which we both know starts and ends with you calling your first meeting.”
He eyes me for a moment, like he’s trying to find an argument against me, but then he huffs. “Fine, round them up.”
* * *
With another mug of coffee in hand, I step into the Church with every man behind me. Some look as rough as I feel, others were buried deep in some club whore pussy when I found them but quickly moved to join me when I rapped my knuckles on their doors.
