Gone for two weeks.
That gives me time to plan exactly what I’m going to do to him when he gets back.
I pull into the Steel Saloon’s lot sensing conflict in the air. Which is why it doesn’t surprise me when I push open the bar doors and find Mace and Logan squared.
Cash and Sydney stand between them like referees, trying to keep this from turning into an uglier argument than it already is.
“—not fucking going!” Mace yells, his face clenched with anger. “You want to play happy family with him, that’s your choice. But leave me the fuck outta it!”
Sydney reaches for his shoulder, trying to calm him. “Mace, if Logan can put the past behind him?—”
He jerks away from her touch as if it burns. “Logan’s making a mistake.”
“Prison might’ve changed him,” Cash offers sensibly, ever the voice of reason in my absence. “Maybe for the better. You won’t know unless?—”
“He ain’t ever gonna change!” Mace barks. “I’m not wasting another second of my life fooling myself that he will!”
Logan steps toward him, and for a second I think they might actually come to blows. It wouldn’t be the first nor probably the last time the two brothers have fought.
But instead Logan seems to realize fiery hostility won’t do much to get through to his brother. He’s controlled in how he looks him in the eye and speaks his mind.
“I get why you’re angry. That mission he sent me on—it damn near killed me. It should’ve killed me. You all thought it had for years,” he says grimly. His eyes reflect memories of the dark and twisted things he endured. “But I didn’t die. Teysha and I went through hell with the Chosen Saints. Wesurvivedit. And as for Tom… he didn’t know what would happen that afternoon. He couldn’t’ve.”
“Bullshit,” Mace spits. “He knew. He as good as sacrificed you. I’m not about to pretend it’s all good.”
He turns and storms out the back, the door swinging open fast on the hinges. Sydney sighs, looking between us.
“Go on without us,” she says. “I’ll talk to him. He just… he has a lot of complicated feelings about him. Especially now that we’re… you know, trying to start a family of our own.”
I wait for her to go, then glance over at Cash and Logan, a brow raised.
“I didn’t know about that,” I admit. “Mace and Syd?”
“Yeah,” Cash says with a nod. “They figure it’s a good time. With things being a time of peace for us.”
Me and Logan share another look, both of us with the same thought in mind. If the Peñas really are pissed about our arrangement breaking down—if they really were the ones watching me outside my house the other night—then that’s about to change.
Our great time of peace might be coming to an end sooner than we realize.
“You sure you’re good to do this?” I ask Logan.
He nods, jaw set. “I’m ready. Been ready.”
We head out, leaving the saloon behind for my truck. Cash climbs into my truck’s backseat while Logan takes shotgun.
We pull out onto the road that’ll take us three hours north to Lenton Federal Correctional, where Tom’s been counting days.
The miles roll by in relative silence. Cash fidgets with his phone. Logan stares out the window at the countryside blurring past.
It’s a colder February than usual, even with the sunshine. Almost like it reflects the mood we’re in.
I keep my eyes on the road and try not to think about what Tom’s return means for all of us.
For the club’s fragile finances. For the leadership questions that’ll inevitably come up. For the Peña situation that’s started simmering.
We’ve held things together without him. Made decisions, fought battles, kept the Steel Kings alive.
Now he’s coming back to reclaim his throne, and everything we’ve built in his absence is about to be tested.
