Had something happened?
Well, it didn’t matter. I could hear Cole’s bike in the far distance. Steele and I would probably talk at some point, but to do so right when the six of us could come together for the greater cause I’d been pushing for was not it.
“I think he’s here,” I said. “I’ll get him.”
It was a convenient excuse to not have to awkwardly stand there while Steele and I traded looks. I walked out the front door, nodded to Cole, and waited for him to dismount his bike.
“Welcome,” I said.
“Axle would love a place like this,” he said, examining the building.
“Who?”
“Someone I knew from Springsville,” I said.
“Ah. Well, come on in. I think everyone’s curious to hear what you have to say and offer.”
I led him inside, where Garrett offered him a beer. Cole took a Bud Light from him, cracked a joke about how the first thing he would do was get us to make better beer choices, and then got serious. It was incredible how we all seemed to sense the seriousness and gravity of Cole’s presence, because even Garrett watched and listened with the intensity of a student who wanted to go to a school like, say, Rice.
“How many of you are familiar with the concept of an MC?”
Everyone raised their hands.
“How many of you are familiar with the Black Reapers MC from Springsville, California?”
I was the only—no, Connor also raised his hand. That was a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one.
“Let me tell you what MCs are,” Cole said. “They are violent, ugly, and brutal. They are the best thing I’ve ever been a part of and also the worst thing. They will give you everything you could ever want, but in return, they require some hard sacrifices on your part. Understand that what I offer tonight is not an easy ticket to whatever you want. I don’t pour money into it so you all can party or have fun. You will see death. You will have threats against you and your loved ones. You will have hardship. If you can withstand that, I can help. But if you don’t want that? Say so now so I can get back to my family.”
No one said a word. I think we were all past our point of ennui. Last night had awoken something in us that didn’t give a fuck what challenges were in the way—granted, I’d long been awake, but now everyone else who was too.
“Good,” Cole said. “I’ll admit, at first, when I saw Brock getting robbed at the store, I just wanted to lend a helping hand. To give aide and resources but stay away. However, I’ve seen my brother make that mistake, and last night helped confirm it for me. I’ve got a self-serving interest in helping.”
He looked around at the six of us as he spoke, as if testing us. I knew that we were tough motherfuckers who stuck together. Hopefully, that covered up any flaws or other weaknesses.
“In my old club, there were six officers,” he said. “A president, a vice president, a sergeant-at-arms, a treasurer, a secretary, and a chaplain. Now, with all respect, I don’t think any of you will be chaplains.”
He paused for a beat to let someone laugh. No one did. It was too serious a conversation for levity.
“But the six of you can form your own rules. You can unite. And together, with some help, you can fight the violence in this town. You will become notorious. You will get attention. And, yes, I know some of you have heard the stories. You will have great parties, women will flock to you, and you will have your choice of drugs and alcohol and whatever you want.”
He looked closely at Garrett, probably already aware of who the biggest partier in the group was. But Garrett didn’t so much as smirk.
“Understand, this, however. While you all can have fun and enjoy the perks, this is not about being bad-boy tailchasers. This is not about living every weekend like you’re in Vegas. This is about a brotherhood that protects what it cares about, ignoring the red tape and bullshit that infests politics and police and whatnot.”
Like Sheriff Davis.
“Your job is to defend, not to attack; to protect, not to assault; and to honor, not to shit on.”
And then Cole said the words that changed quite a bit for me, most notably how I had viewed last night.
“It doesn’t matter what the fuck happened before this. You should only give a shit about what happens going forward and how you clean it up. Yes, at some point, when you’re alone, process whatever shit you went through, but don’t let that shit stop you from doing what you need to.”
I need to see Tara.
I need to tell her what happened.
I need to take my one shot at the woman I’ve always felt was the best I ever knew.
