I could go back inside, fall back asleep like Shay suggested. Hope Kel will take me home in a few hours when he finally wakes up. Or I could finally give in and call Uncle Eddie. He would immediately come get me, and though I’d be inhugetrouble, so would others.
Heads. Would. Roll.
He’d probably take one look at me and lose it, knowing what I do deep down. I’ve been taken advantage of…
And then there’s the third option. I could start walking.
I go to college in Wheaton, but I live in Pulsboro, which is forty minutes away…by car.
Maybe someone driving by would take pity on me and give me a ride. If they weren’t Jack the Ripper looking to kill me first.
“Fuckkkk,” I groan aloud, then sink down to the ground. I sit on the front step, head buried in my lap. Tears finally slip free, warm and moist rolling down my cheeks.
Minutes must go by, because when I do sit up again, the sky’s lightened a little. I resign myself to my fate. I’m going to have to call Uncle Eddie.
My finger hovers over his name on my contact list ’til I remember another name I’d saved a couple weeks ago.
On New Year’s Eve, I had gone out to the Steel Saloon, where the Steel Kings MC—the same motorcycle club my uncle and brother belong to—resides. They always throw the most outrageous parties in Pulsboro, and I was bored and lonely.
No one else had invited me out. I was done staying home watching TV. I was twenty years old and dying for some excitement.
It took only an hour before I was called out for my age. Before I had to hurry up and leave out of fear someone would call Uncle Eddie or my brother.
But as I waited outside for my Uber, a man emerged from the bar. He was very tall, almost as tall as Unc, and he had a shock of silver hair that stood out in the dark night. He was older, likedadold, but he was also pretty cute for his age. His face bore proof of his maturity, like the subtle lines bracketing his dark blue eyes, and the distinguished, chiseled cut of his jaw.
He wasn’t just a man. He was aMAN.
Like the type who could show up when you’re in the worst kind of trouble, and you’d immediately feel calm and comforted. Like he could help you through anything, no matter how hard or difficult.
Like right now.
He gave me a ride home that night. He promised not to tell Unc or my brother, and he said if I ever needed another ride I could…
I take a deep breath and press the call button, listening to Silver Kingman’s phone ring and praying he’ll be the one to show up for me.
2
SILVER
My eyesache from staring at the numbers for so long.
I drop the pen and use my fingers to massage my temple. It’s been two hours that I’ve been trying to make these damn numbers work, and I’ve hit my limit. We’ve wound up short again this month.
Unsurprising but still disappointing.
Still a sign we’ve got our work cut out for us.
The club has had its high and low points over the years. After being a member for damn near thirty years—and living in this town for a lot longer than that—it’s nothing new. We’ve gone through cycles of great prosperity and others where things were tight.
But in the past, there was usually a reason. A current conflict going on with the Hellrazors or some kind of complication with the law. The transition period from old leadership to new, where they needed some time to gain their footing.
That was the case after Tom was sent away for fifteen years.
The club was rudderless. I was in the thick of my divorce with Rachel, figuring out how to navigate things when our lives hadbeen so deeply intertwined for almost two decades. Mace was still grieving the perceived loss of his brother and adjusting to his role as Road Captain, absolutely not ready to take over the whole club for his father.
It was a rough time for everyone.
But this latest period seems to be lasting longer than usual. We need to bring in more money, which means we might need to return to some of our old ways. Back when we had no rules and even fewer scruples and nothing was off the table if it meant we could profit from it.
