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“So, what are y’all up to?” Reaper asks. “Gonna stay for a bit? We got more than enough room. Dad had some extra rooms built onto the back.”
“Yeah, it looks bigger than the last time I was here.”
“That’s because it is, idiot.”
I laugh and start to call him an asshole but glance Molly and let the words die on my lips. She smiles and gives me a nod as if she knew what I was going to say and appreciates my restraint.
“So? You two want to stay for a bit?” Reaper repeats.
“No, we’re actually just passing through,” I tell him. “We’re actually heading out to Zion National Park. Thought we’d spend a little time out that way.”
“Exposing the kid to nature. That’s a good thing,” Reaper notes.
“A hell of a lot better than exposing him to what goes on in that clubhouse,” I reply.
He laughs. “You ain’t lyin’,” he says. “Anyway, listen, Old Grim wants to see you.”
“Yeah? All right,” I say. “You mind staying out here and keeping an eye on Molly and little Jenkins for me?”
“You got it.”
“Thanks, man,” I say then turn to Molly and give her a gentle kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back in a little bit.”
“We’ll be here.”
I clap Reaper on the back and turn and head to the clubhouse. I walk up the steps I used to walk up every single day and feel a powerful wave of nostalgia wash over me. I’m not going to lie. Not being here with my boys every day has been hard. They’re my brothers and I can’t help but feel like I’ve abandoned them. I know none of them bear me any ill will. I know that most of them are excited for me and this new chapter of my life. But I can’t shake the feeling that I’ve let them down.
I walk through the clubhouse and greet some of the guys. There are a lot of back slaps and high fives as I walk through. It makes that wave of nostalgia even deeper. I walk back to the meeting room and slide the door open. Old Grim is at the head of the table, a cigarette in one hand, his phone pressed to his ear. When he sees me, he waves me in. I slide the door closed then walk over and sit in my old VP’s chair to the left of him.
I notice that his cut no longer has a President patch on it. For a while there, both he and Reaper were wearing one, but now the space is just blank. Clearly he’s still got some responsibilities to the club, but I didn’t know he’d basically retired.
Old Grim is a rugged-looking guy. He looks kind of like what Reaper will look like in thirty years or so. He’s got a thick mustache but no beard, a head of thick hair that’s shot through with gray, pocked cheeks, and dark eyes. He’s a tall, brawny guy that has a hard edge about him. He is not somebody you want to be on the wrong side of.
“Yeah, let me call you back,” Old Grim says.
He disconnects the call and sets his phone down on the table. He takes a long drag off his cigarette and blows a thick plume of smoke toward the ceiling.
“It’s good to see you, kid,” he says.
“It’s great to see you too, Prez.”
“You know I ain’t Prez no more.”
I acknowledge it with a nod. He may not hold the title, but as long as he walks these halls, he’ll always be a leader. Something above a Prez. I don’t even know what.
“How’s life on the road?”
I nod. “It’s been great. It really has,” I tell him. “I miss the guys a lot. I miss being here every day. I even miss some of the crazy shit we used to pull.”
He laughs and nods. “Yeah, to be honest, it ain’t been the same without you around here,” he tells me. “There’s a big Hawk-sized hole in the club.”
“I feel like shit about leaving. But I’m a King for life, Prez. I want you to know that,” I tell him, still referring to him with the title on purpose. “This club is always in my heart.”
“And you’re always in ours. I really am happy for you, kid,” he says. “I’m glad you got the girl and I’m glad you’re raising a family.”
“Thanks, man. I really appreciate that.”
He takes another drag on his cigarette and I can see something in his eyes that isn’t quite right. He’s worried about something. Maybe worried isn’t the right word, but I know him well enough to know that something is definitely on his mind.
