“Besides,” I add with a slight grin after a couple seconds, “you’ll be giving Chloe a playmate. Her own cousin to grow up alongside.”
“Yeah, me and Syd were talking about that.” He grins too as if even the mere idea brings him contentment. “Wait ’til Logan hears about it. We haven’t told him or Teysha yet.”
“They’ll get a kick outta it when you do. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me so long as you and Syd are keeping it close to the vest.”
“Thanks, Silver. That means a lot.”
We drive the rest of the way in contemplative silence.
Eventually, the Pulsboro Ravine comes up before us as we crest the final hill and then the land drops away into a rocky gorge.
It’s a place not often visited by folks in town, the only other place near it being the trailer park on the other side.
Winter has made the gray stone and scraggly brush look even duller as wind blows harder the later in the morning it becomes.
All things that make it the perfect spot for a meeting you don’t want witnesses to.
Tom’s already here, standing near the edge of the ravine with Logan beside him. He’s got his arms crossed, his posture casual, like he’s got nothing to worry about. Though his icy eyes say otherwise, a flicker of calculation in them.
Logan stands a few feet off from him, his expression ambiguous and body language as tense as the meeting calls for. One look at him, and it’s obvious he hardly trusts his father any more than Mace does. He’s simply a little more diplomatic about it as the older son.
Mace parks the truck and we climb out. The cold hits me immediately, but I barely feel it. All my focus is on Tom.
We walk over, boots crunching on the rocky ground. I don’t bother hiding my suspicion—what’s the point?
Tom knows where we stand. He knows what he’s done.
Our friendship and brotherhood are long over. But maybe if we’re lucky, we can walk out of this with no more bloodshed.
Logan steps forward as we approach and says, “He came alone and unarmed. I checked him for weapons.”
“I didn’t agree to Mace being here!” Tom shouts from where he stands.
“It doesn’t matter,” I call back, not breaking stride. “He’s here now.”
We stop a few feet from them, the four of us forming a loose square. The wind whips between us, carrying the smell of pine and dankness from the water.
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” I say. “Pretty sure none of us have got all day. Speak your peace so we can get the club dynamics figured out.”
Tom cracks the same mocking, shit-eating grin he’s been wearing since he got back from prison. It’s as if everything’s a joke and he’s the only one who gets the punchline.
“You know what, Jack?” He tilts his head, studying me. “Maybe you should’ve been president all along. I always thought you had it in you. You were always so damn diplomatic, even when we were younger. I was the hothead. The one always going off the rails. I’m surprised Skull didn’t name you as his successor.”
I pause, considering whether to burst his bubble. It would be something I’ve never told him. I’ve carried it for decades, keeping it locked away because I knew how much it would hurt him. How much it would change things.
But fuck it. We’re laying everything bare on the table today. Might as well go all the way.
“That’s because I told him to pick you.”
Tom’s grin freezes on his face, the rest of him going still too.
“For you to be nominated,” I continue. “Not me.”
The grin becomes a rictus, unnatural and stuck as his right eye twitches. It’s like he can’t process what I’ve just said.
I sigh. “I never told you because I knew how much you wanted to be president. It had always been your dream. As your best friend, I wanted to help you achieve that.”
The silence stretches between us, going on for seconds as nobody else says a word. Mace and Logan hover on the sidelines as observers while I await Tom’s reaction. He’s remained frozenand unresponsive like he’s either stuck in time or unable to process what I’ve revealed.
