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Chapter Twenty-Five

Travis

Something has changed.

I scoff as the thought runs through my mind because it seems like our whole lives have been turned upside down in the two days since the protestors first showed up but in this instance, I’m talking about Rowan and me. As I stare out at the protestors lining the street, I lean back in my chair and think over the past two days since they first showed up, trying to find the moment that it all changed but I can’t make any sense of it. She left my room that morning and we were good, better than ever and the way she smiled and pressed her lips to mine is burned into my memory but by the time people started gathering outside of the clubhouse, she was different. Her big ass sunglasses may have hidden her eyes from me but it didn’t matter because it was evident in the way she avoided looking at me and the way her body slumped like she was in pain. But, why? Even when she hugged me after Storm went off, I could feel this distance between us that was never there before and it hasn’t gotten any better since. Every single touch, every single kiss reveals the fracture in our relationship but I don’t know what to do to fix it.

Sighing, I shake my head, unable to pull my eyes from the street where the protestors are still going strong as I take a sip of my beer and my stomach turns. Yesterday, the size of the crowd doubled from the day before and the same thing happened today. It’s gotten so bad that Rodriguez sent officers over to make sure everyone remained civil… or as civil as you can be when an entire mob thinks you are monsters and wants to run you out of town. He also informed us that Sergeant Williams wouldn’t be giving up on her investigation anytime soon and it’s a safe bet that she’s got guys watching us right now. With everything going on, it’s not fucking ideal but, despite what the city of Baton Rouge thinks now, we’re not monsters and we haven’t done anything wrong.

“Don’t you wish you could just march over there and yell at them that we’re innocent and being set up by a psycho?” Fuzz asks, leaning back in his chair with a sigh before taking a sip of his own beer. I nod.

“Every fucking minute of every fucking day.”

Storm sighs. “It probably doesn’t look great that we’re all sitting out here, drinking beer and watching them like we find this amusing or something.”

Amusing is the last word I would use to describe this shit show. Our city has turned on us in an epic way and I honestly don’t know how we can come back from this, how we ever get back to business as usual.

“What are we supposed to do?” I ask, resisting the urge to ball up my fist. The last thing we need is for any of us to look angry or aggressive out in the open, where the crowd can see us. It would only reinforce their beliefs if we showed the same rage they saw in the videos. “Are we supposed to hide inside until this is all over?”

“I’m sure that is what Warren would like us to do,” Fuzz quips, his lip pulling back into a snarl for a brief second before he collects himself. “He wants us trapped and acting irrationally.”

Blaze nods, his brows furrowed as he watches the people in the street scream at us and takes a sip of his own beer before sighing. “Makes all of us easier to slaughter.”

“You all right, boss?” I ask, glancing over at him. He’s been unusually quiet since last night when he called all of the guys into the war room to go over a game plan. We didn’t come up with much of anything, though. Turning back to the crowd, I sigh. “Besides the obvious, I mean.”

“Yeah… no… I don’t know. I’ve just had a lot on my mind.”

Storm frowns. “Like what?”

“My legacy,” he answers, a deep, haunting sadness creeping into his eyes as he turns to look at the clubhouse. “This place, the club… it was never meant to be the mess it became before we made the decision to turn things around and when I got shot eight years ago, I thought that was it. I thought my legacy was going to be a piece of shit that sold guns and drugs to selfishly make himself as much money as possible. And then, I got a second chance. I’ve worked so hard to turn things around since then…”

“And you have, Blaze,” I tell him, my brows furrowed as I glance over at my brothers. They look as bewildered as I feel. Blaze shakes his head.

“It won’t matter. After all the work we’ve done to turn things around and all the good we’ve done for the people of this community, this is what we’re going to be remembered for.”

“You can’t think like that, boss.”

Blaze sighs and shakes his head again. “We have to be realistic, boys. Even if the protestors go away, even if we manage to prove our innocence and Williams drops her case against us, the name Bayou Devils MC will always have people in this city whispering. There is no way back and, in that sense, Warren has succeeded in his mission to tear this club apart.”

“No… Blaze…”

“I don’t like it anymore than you do, Streak, but it is what it is. All we can do now is adapt, forge ahead, wade through the mud and hopefully, when we get to the other side, we’ll have enough pieces to rebuild.”

“What are you really saying?” I ask him and he stares off into the crowd for a moment before shaking his head and dropping his gaze to the pavement in front of him as he takes a long pull of his beer before tossing the empty bottle in the trash can next to us.

“I don’t know, Streak. I don’t have anymore answers than you do but I just can’t shake this feeling…”

Storm frowns. “What feeling?”

“Nothing,” he says as he stands up and sighs. “I’m just a sad old man and not good company tonight. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

Without another word, he walks back toward the clubhouse and I turn back to Fuzz and Storm as they both shake their heads, their eyes haunted with Blaze’s comments. Not that I can blame them. It was heavy shit and it has me so concerned for the future of my club.

“You know,” Storm whispers. “I think I’m gonna head to my room, too.”

Fuzz nods. “Yeah, I need to go find my wife.”

They both stand up and tell me good night before walking back to the clubhouse and I sigh, my chest aching as I sink further into my seat and take a sip of my beer as I stare at the protestors. The sun is starting to set and soon, they’ll start getting lanterns out and continue yelling into the night before finally crawling into their tents to get some sleep only to start all over again tomorrow. Now that the officers are here, we’ve been able to leave the clubhouse to run errands like grocery shopping which Tate, Blaze, and Emma did today so we’re set to withstand the onslaught for a while but I hope it ends soon. The people in the street, they unknowingly taunt me with my inability to catch Warren or even figure out who he really is and each moment I have to listen to their chants, the more I feel like I’m going crazy.