Like how Jason felt he had the freedom to murder my sister.
I went silent as I turned my attention away from Michael and out toward the downtown lights of Los Angeles. It wasn’t like Michael had just dropped some ultimate truth on me that I’d known all along but failed to recognize. I hadn’t done much empathizing with Jason for obvious reasons, but I had always been able to see that Jason was a violent, unwelcome member of society.
Now, when Michael said those words, it was like I could see Jason confessing them. And it somehow... I don’t know. It somehow made the whole thing even more fucked up. I just wanted to see all bikers as savages with no conscious who deserved to suffer a cruel fate.
But that wasn’t true at all. It was more muddled than that.
Most bikers weren’t Michael, but most bikers weren’t Jason. They were somewhere in the middle, maybe leaning a little more toward Jason than Michael, but that was still a far cry from all of them being vengeful, murderous sociopaths.
“You okay?”
I smiled and looked at Michael. My eyes were feeling the early stages of being watery, recalling my sister, but this wasn’t the place to confess it all. Michael’s story was tough, but he had had time to process it. I was clearly still trying to make sense of my family’s.
“I’m fine,” I said. “I’m ready to head back, though.”
One too many leaps tonight.
“Okay,” Michael said.
I thought he was about to kiss me, the way he kept his gaze on me, the way he kept looking into my eyes. I all but prepared for that to happen.
But something told me that doing it out here, with many people walking around, far away from home, was not the place to do it.
And so, before anyone could get any ideas, myself included, I began walking toward the exit of the observatory, beckoning Michael to come. He looked slightly disappointed, but I just wanted the silence and comfort of privacy.
When he pulled into my apartment twenty minutes later, Michael took my hand. Although I was exhausted, things somehow seemed perfect. I could see it in his eyes. The night was going to end with a lovely kiss.
He leaned in.
Without hesitating, I leaned in.
And then the sound of gunfire erupted.
Patriot
BAM BAM BAM BAM!
The gunfire was nowhere near us, but it was unmistakable where it was directed at.The Fallen Saints didn’t wait for anything. They chose to bring the fight to us.
“Stay here,” I ordered Kaitlyn. “You asked about the violence? It’s happening right now at our clubhouse.”
“You’re going in there?” she said, a look of horror on her face.
The sound of gunfire had put me on edge, and it took a great deal of strength not to scoff at her. I probably would have if we hadn’t had such a great evening up to that point.
“I was in the military. I know what it’s like for us to run into battle. I’ll be fine.”
I hadn’t told Kaitlyn this, but I always carried a pistol with me. Though technically illegal in California—let’s just say what few licenses went around were definitely not given to us—I didn’t trust life to let me skate by free. It wasn’t out to get me, but we had too many enemies on the other side of town for me to think that life would be sunshine and rainbows.
I started my engine and drove off before she could say anything else. I didn’t know how bad of an attack it would be, nor did I—or could I—care. I could only hope that the help we already had would be enough to treat any and all casualties we suffered, but there was no way that I was staying back or that she was coming in. Someone else would have to help, or we’d just have to use the hospital.
I may have stayed close to the speed limit during my date with Kaitlyn, but now, I was speeding like a demon. I felt guilty that I wasn’t there to help out. I felt guilty that I had left my friends behind to suffer the attack of the enemy.Just like... just like I had in...
The drive from Kaitlyn’s to the base was quite short, but by the time I arrived, the damage had been done, and the Saints had left. I hopped off my bike, barely getting the kickstand up, and ran into the building. One club member, a guy in his mid-thirties who had been with us for three years, named Eagle Eye, was dead. Four more were injured, three of whom looked like they needed medical attention quickly.
So, too, it turned out, was Red Raven, but his injury didn’t look severe. I couldn’t help but think that an old person suffering such an injury, though, wouldn’t recover as easily as someone my age. But for now, he was waving off medical attention, telling us to focus on those who needed it.
Cries of confusion went up around me.
