“You can head back to the clubhouse, or home or whatever.”
He pauses and leans back against a metal balustrade on the ramp for wheelchairs. “Anyone know where you’re going?” he tilts his head to look out at the parking lot.
“Stryker.”
“Good,” he looks back. “Then I’m gonna go to the strip club,” he grins, straightens up and slaps my arm. “But first let me see you to your bike.”
“Fuck off.” I punch him and he laughs.
I’m starting to feel the tiredness as I make my way to the apartment in Canton. Just as I approach the tattoo shop the door opens and my brother steps out taking a cigarette from behind his ear. His head lifts at the sound of the bike and our eyes meet.
I never let him join the MC, but I did teach him how to ride. He’s been ignoring me for weeks now. Might as well deal with this shit too.
He isn’t too surprised when I pull over, stow my helmet and walk toward him.
Phoenix doesn’t look anything like me. He takes after his mother with her dark hair and green eyes. The fucker is so good looking, he had club whores panting after him before he was even legal. With all the tattoos and piercings, the cigarette and dark clothes, I’m surprised he doesn’t have an endless stream of women in and out of his bed.
My brother isn’t like that. I’m glad about that.
“Thought you quit,” I indicate the cigarette as he cups his hands around it and lights it, inhaling deeply.
“It didn’t stick.”
Through the window the dark-haired girl covered in tattoos is watching us. I’m pretty sure Phoenix was dating her for a while but they’re not together now. There is no one else in there that I can see.
“Garrett is in Texas,” he says.
I nod. Phoenix huffs a laugh. I don’t say anything in response to his silent suggestion I’m keeping tabs on them.
“What are you doing around here?”
“Some shit went down last night, things got messy.”
“And you’re here to tell me what? To watch out for something?”
“No, you can take yourself Phoenix.” He eyes me, taking a drag on the cigarette. “I have a kid.”
His mouth pops open and for the first time he loses some of that hard built-up composure and bravado he shows around me. “Like, a kid?”
“He’s two, his name is Oscar. I’ve kept him a secret to protect him but I realize now that was a bad idea. He isn’t going to be like me.”
“Why are you telling me this?” he asks, dropping the cigarette and stomping on it to make sure it’s out. Then he bends down and pockets the stub. This is the kind of man my brother is.
“If you want to get to know him.”
“Do you want me to get to know him?”
A car drives by slowing and I watch it, making sure.
“Don’t be cryptic with me, Nero. I’m beyond that shit. And the only reason I’m giving you the time of day is because of what you did for Garrett.”
He doesn’t mean letting him out of his obligations to the club, he’s referring to Garrett’s sister.
“He needs good role models.”
“You think that’s me?” he laughs.
“Yes.”
