I nod, pulling in a deep breath and feeling more steady on my feet now that I’m outside and my hangover is starting to hide away beneath a veil of pain relievers.
He nods as well as he releases his hold on my helmet, and lets me swing a leg over the bike behind him. Once I’m on and havemy arms firmly wrapped around his waist, he takes off out of the driveway, and heads for the highway.
I hang on to Alder as he rips down the highway, heading south. He drives for almost an hour, and the entire time I just try to take it all in—the wind on my face, his solid muscles beneath my arms, and the speed at which we’re travelling as he weaves between cars.
It’s not until he pulls off the highway and takes us down winding back roads lined with dense trees that I realize where we’re going.
He’s taking me to the water.
Alder eases the bike into a clearing where the asphalt gives way to gravel, opening onto a quiet space carved out of the trees with a wide view spilling towards the Bay of Fundy. It feels untouched, as though the world passed it by and forgot it was here. There isn’t another soul around, and we haven’t even passed a house on the drive in.
Alder kills the engine and taps my leg to get off, and the silence presses in on me. The abrupt stillness is disorienting after so long with the wind and the roar of his engine in my ears, now replaced by the sharp cries of seagulls and the soft breeze drifting up from the water.
He takes my helmet from me without a word and grabs the thermos from the saddlebag, then heads towards the shore where the view stretches wide. The land drops off into a jagged slope of rock, and beyond it, rippled tidal flats glint in the early morning light as the sun slowly rises in the distance. The water has retreated far into the distance overnight, with the edge almost a kilometre away. And now, the tide is making its way back in. In a few short hours, it will rise again, swallowing the flats until it’s lapping at our feet.
Alder lowers himself onto a large rock near the cliff’s edge and opens the thermos, taking a drink as he stares out across the bay. Then he wordlessly passes it to me as I sit beside him.
I take a drink and let the warm coffee soothe my sore, dry throat as I watch the seagulls hopping on the exposed rocks before us while they cry out to each other. The breeze off the bay drifts across my skin as I shift my gaze to the distant water, wondering what it will pull back in with it.
“The Dominion Sons are pushing in,” Alder says, breaking the silence.
My head turns to him as my heart skips a beat. But he doesn’t look at me.
“They want to absorb us and have us run their drugs.” His jaw tightens as he stares out at the horizon, and I feel the anger bubbling beneath his skin.
And some fear starts to rise in me.
Everyone knows about the Dominion Sons. The organized crime syndicate spread across North America, deep into drug trafficking, and rumoured to be involved in so much worse. Human trafficking, extortion, and violence so brutal it's hard to even imagine.
As feared as the Basin Kings are here in New Brunswick, they also comes with a kind of acceptance. Because the only reason the Dominion Sons have stayed out of this province… is them.
The Kings bring their own brand of crime and danger, but it’s never directed at their community. And whether people want to admit it or not, we know they protect us from something far worse.
“What are you going to do?” I ask.
He sighs with a shake of his head. “I don’t know. Everything is a fucking mess right now.” He pauses for a moment. “Our auctions aren’t what they used to be. We’re chasing and losing buyers, some getting priced out while others are afraid of theRCMP turning up the heat…” He turns his head to meet my eyes. “Someone is feeding them information.”
My brows draw together as I hold his gaze, and for a moment his expression is almost… helpless.
But he quickly shifts his gaze out to the water. “And the club thinks the only other option is to run guns,” Alder says.
I take a moment to study him, taking in the tension in his shoulders and jaw, seeing just how much this is weighing on him.
“But you don’t,” I say.
He shakes his head. “No. I don’t. I can’t be responsible for bringing that here.”
I can’t help the small twitch at the corner of my mouth, despite the heaviness in this moment. Because I see what no one else gets to see.
The Basin King’s VP isn’t someone to be feared. He’s someone who protects, cares, and refuses to let danger come to his town and the people who live there.
“What doyouwant to do?” I ask.
He turns to look at me again. “Something big, risky, and damn near impossible.”
I nod. “Sounds about right.”
He lets out a quiet huff, and a small lopsided smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. Then he turns back towards the water, watching it crawl closer.
