“We’ll have to get her a cut,” I say, laughing.
Four months, and I still haven’t gotten used to seeing these two with a baby. But damn if they aren’t good parents.
I’ve never seen a guy at the club take to fatherhood like Logan has.
“So what’s the news you thought I had to hear in person?” I ask, hands on my waist.
“Got a release notification yesterday,” he starts, then pauses as if questioning the news himself. “From the Texas State Penitentiary. My father’s finally been granted parole. He’ll be out in a week.”
The news is met with silence on both ends. Logan goes quiet, and I’m processing what I’ve just been told.
It’s finally happened. Tom’s been granted parole. He’ll be returning in a week after how many years…
I’ve known him since we were boys. We’ve spent most of our lives as best friends. We were inducted into the Steel Kings together, the only two prospects who survived the crazy tests we were put through that summer.
For a long time, I considered him my brother in everything but blood.
This should be news I welcome. News I celebrate.
“A week,” I repeat seconds later. “You’re sure?”
“Yeah. A week. Mace received the same notification.”
Behind Logan, Chloe’s managed to snatch the remote despite Teysha’s efforts, gnawing on it with satisfied little grunts. She leaves it slick with her saliva by the time Teysha steals it back and shoots me an apologetic smile.
But I don’t give a damn. Logan and Teysha are as good as family and so is their little one. Besides, I’m too distracted by the topic at hand.
“Well…” I say slowly. “He’s gonna want the gavel back.”
Logan nods, jaw tight. “Yeah, he will. The club was his life. Knowing it was waiting for him on the other end was the only thing that kept him going all these years. His words, not mine.”
“It’s his to have,” I admit. “Heisthe president on paper. He’s officially in charge. I’m just the fill-in.”
“You’ve been more than that. Everybody knows it. It’s gonna be… the whole situation’s complex.”
Complex doesn’t begin to cover it.
Tom earned that president patch through blood and grit, taking over from hardasses like Skull and Pistol from our early days.
He steered the ship through many storms and saw us through one of the most prosperous, profitable periods the club’s ever seen.
That was ultimately the problem—we caught the attention of the law, and they wound up pinning him down with a solid enough case.
This club belongs to him and is his rightful possession to take back.
But as many years as it’s been, things change. The club’s a different beast than when he went away. I’ve made calls he might not’ve made, taken us in directions he probably wouldn’t have chosen, gotten involved in battles that could come back to haunt us again any day now.
We’re no longer the bloodthirsty, devil-may-care outlaws we were in the past. We’ve had to adapt, find ways to go covert under the noses of the law, grow beyond simple bully tactics we once used when ruling over the town.
“Him and Mace still aren’t speaking,” Logan continues. “Hell, I’m barely speaking to him myself. He hasn’t exactly been the best father.”
I nod, scrubbing my jaw. “Fatherhood was never Cutty’s thing. He regularly admitted that himself.”
“Yeah, me and Mace heard it from the horse’s mouth. He told us plenty of times too.”
“Wheels is on the run after what happened with Ozzie and Asa Boone. Now Cutty’s getting let out. Who would’ve had this on their bingo card?”
“It does seem like old faces are making new appearances,” Logan admits.
