I shrugged a shoulder.
I wasn’t ambivalent to his passing. It had been a weird and confusing time, considering we hadn’t ever been close, but I had been loyal to him. But it had been years.
“So, that’s my story. How’d you become a biker? Did you grow up in the world?”
“Not at all. I didn’t really even know much about bike clubs until I got an offer to join.”
“Why would you get anoffer?” That wasn’t really how things worked. You hung around the club. If they liked you, you got to prospect, then join. Clubs weren’t out there recruiting. At least not that I heard.
“I guess they liked my past.”
“Are you being intentionally cryptic?”
“The club pays attention to who is getting out of the prison. If they like your history, they make an offer.”
“You were in prison?” I asked, dubious.
“Didn’t mean to be. I was in the service for years. When I got back from my last deployment, I found out my best friend had been fucking my wife. He learned how I felt about that.”
“You went away for assault.”
“Yeah.”
I could see that. I mean, it was bad enough to be cheated on, but to have your best friend be the one your spouse cheated with? That was the ultimate betrayal.
I couldn’t even commit to a man for a month. I couldn’t imagine promising your whole future to someone only to have them screw you over.
“Seems like he had it coming.”
“He did.”
“What about your wife?”
“I don’t hit women.”
“I meant… what happened to her after you went away?”
“Last I heard, she and my ex-best friend have two kids and a house in the Bay Area.”
“That sucks. That they got a happily ever after even though they screwed you over.”
“I wouldn’t have reacted that way if they’d fallen in love without the betrayal. Shit happens. Sometimes you choose the wrong person. I get it. It was the fucking around behind my back part I took issue with.”
“That’s kind of generous. I would still be raging to this day if my husband fucked my best friend. Of course, that would mean I would have a husband. Or a best friend. I’m not sure which one of those is less likely.”
“You had a whole sisterhood,” he reminded me.
“True. So it was just the husband part that is wildly improbable. Why did you get married?”
“High school girlfriend. We thought we were pregnant. Our parents pushed us to get married. We did. Then… she wasn’t pregnant.”
“How old were you?”
“Seventeen when we got married. I joined the service right out of high school.”
“Why?”
“Because I had a wife to provide for then.”
