“You didn’t have to do that for me,” I replied.
“Didn’t do it for you. I did it for my own pride.” He laughed, but I could tell he was still angry.
“Where you goin’?” Bull asked.
“Need some space. I can’t breathe here.”
He nodded, his dark eyes staring intently. “Come speak to Hardy before you go.”
I nodded okay and followed him over to where Hardy, his VP Rider, and another man were standing. Hardy held out his hand and I took it.
“You did good,” he said. “Fucked up Bench real good. Reverend’s pretty fucking pissed off. Can’t even ask for a rematch because it looks like Bench’ll be out of the game for a long while.” He smiled again. “You got my respect, and you got your road name too, I hear.”
I nodded. “Yeah, Crank.” I hated the name, but it seemed fitting somehow. Crank had gotten me into this mess after all.
He nodded. “Bull says you’re like a son to him.”
I looked abruptly at Bull, but his stare stayed straight ahead, not acknowledging the words. Didn’t know what to make of that, especially now as I was leaving. Something in my chest hurt again.
“This is my eldest boy, Butch.” Hardy nodded over to another man next to him. He remained expressionless, yet I recognized the sharp hint of pain in his eyes nonetheless. It was a look I knew well. “He’ll be running my club with Rider one day when I’ve gone to Hades.” He laughed and Butch leaned over with a hand. “Not for a long fucking time yet though.”
Butch laughed as he shook my hand. “I missed the fight—I was out of town on club business. I heard it was good though. Staked me some money on it too and earned it back double, so thanks for that.” Everyone laughed.
Hardy eyed the bag in my hand. “You off somewhere?”
“Yeah, I need to get out of here for a while. Clear my head and shit.” I wasn’t sure how much he knew, but there was a look of recognition on his face that made it obvious that our club business was now his too.
“We all need to do that from time to time,” Hardy replied. He looked me up and down. “Up to Bull, but from the sounds of the sacrifices you’ve made for this club, I think you’re ready to patch in. Seems a real shame to lose you.”
All the sacrifices I’d made…It was laughable really, yet I couldn’t help that spark of hope going off inside me. I guess that’s all we ever really want in the end: to belong. To find our tribe, our women and our brothers, and just belong. I had found it and now I was having to walk away from it—the memories too painful, at least for now.
“I could put it to a vote,” Bull said, looking from Hardy to me. “Quickest anyone’s ever been patched in in my club’s history, if memory serves.”
“See that, Crank? You’re making Highwayman history already,” Hardy replied, and started to turn away. He stopped himself and turned back. “Oh, got a present for you.” He pulled a large mound of cash from his pocket and a small brown envelope. “For the fight, and your sacrifice.” He looked at Bull. “Gotta get back on the road.”
The two men shook hands and Hardy and his crew left.
Bull looked at me. “You open that somewhere private,” he warned before turning to the clubhouse. “Church meeting, now!” He turned back to me. “You wait here until I’m done.”
Everyone barring the women stood up and descended upon the chapel, the door shutting behind them, and I went and sat at the bar. I wasn’t even sure what I was waiting for. Did I even want this? I couldn’t stay there, that much I knew for certain. There was too much death. Too many ghosts haunting those walls. Stone walked by, his head down, his expression miserable…And there were way too many faces I didn’t want to see ever again.
I looked at the bottle of whiskey on the counter and I stood up, striding over to the chapel and knocking on the door.
Wolf opened it a couple of seconds later. “Sup?”
“I can’t stay,” I replied bluntly.
He nodded. “I’ll tell them. Wait here. Gimme five minutes.”
I nodded, and he closed the door and the talking inside resumed. I went and sat on one of the old sofas, as far away from the whiskey as I could get. I needed a clear head for a change, and whiskey wasn’t making me feel any better. I’d been drunk for six months straight. Either blind drunk, hazy drunk, or just mildly drunk. But drunk was drunk, and it wasn’t good for me anymore. I needed my head clear.
Twenty minutes went by and the door to the chapel opened. Wolf called me over and gestured for me to come inside. Around the table sat my brothers—men that I had expected to spend my life working alongside but was now leaving behind. It felt like Rapid City all over again.
“Wolf says you want to leave,” Bull said, and I nodded. “But I can tell that’s not entirely what you want.”
I shrugged, and he leaned forward in his chair.
“We’re patching you in, Crank. You’ll be a Highwayman, but a Highwayman Nomad.”
