A part of the original Tartarus chapter was still in Texas and a few smaller chapters were scattered all over the East Coast. But the heart of Tartarus had always been Earl’s main chapter, which had followed him from Texas to Jersey.
“And who should become prez? Gray?” He scoffed. “He’s a boy.”
“He’s too young,” I agreed. “You could do the job until Gray’s ready to take over.”
Gunnar smiled. “I’m not a leader. I don’t want to tell these guys what to do. I just want to ride my bike, drink a beer, and have a good time with my brothers. That’s it.”
“Then pick someone else. What about Roland? He’s well-connected and everyone likes him.”
Roland had been one of the last to become a Nomad. He and I had gotten along well.
“Everyone likes him, you said it. Ever seen a prez who earned the respect of a biker gang by being a nice guy?”
I nodded at the gun in Gunnar’s hand. “How about you put that away? Like I said, I come in peace. You aren’t the people I have a grudge against.”
“So you’re still on the hunt?”
“Not on the hunt but I’ll keep an eye out for Earl’s old crew. I don’t want trouble but I won’t wait for it to be brought to my doorstep.”
“You mean your girl’s doorstep?”
I didn’t confirm nor deny it, but Gunnar laughed. “Fuck, she’s got you by the balls.”
“Like Barb got you.”
Gunnar shrugged. “Barb knows her place in club life. Your girl doesn’t. You’ll have to give up the life you’re used to, the life you swore your life to. She won’t be an Old Lady.”
“She’s who she is, and I am who I am. We can remain who we are and still be together.”
“You sure? I can’t see you banging pass-arounds or riding your bike all night while being her old man’s lapdog.”
“I won’t be anyone’s lapdog, and it’s not like you’ve been banging anyone else but Barb in a while.”
Gunnar gave me a finger.
I knew he made valid points. My life was going to change drastically once Marcella and I were really together. It had already changed the moment I betrayed my club and killed Earl. I wasn’t sure yet how everything would work out, how our lives would look five years from now, but I knew I wanted it to be with Marcella. It was still a shocking thought, one I’d never considered myself ever having. But Marcella had changed everything, to a degree, even myself.
“You could lead the new Tartarus, you know?” Gunnar said quietly, shocking me.
“You said it yourself, I burned down most of what Tartarus was and killed not just Earl but other bikers. I doubt I’d get many votes if I put myself up for president. They’d hang me from the next tree.”
“They might or you convince them that you’re willing to create something better.”
I chuckled and got off my bike. “Gunnar, you were holding me at gunpoint because you didn’t trust me. These guys know me even less, and what they know about me are the rumors about my betrayal and Earl’s murder. They won’t listen, they’ll shoot me, and I can’t even blame them.”
Gunnar shrugged. “I would consider giving you my vote. I don’t like how you handled things, don’t like you having the hots for the Italian princess, but I think you could be a great prez.”
I shook my head again. I’d always wanted to be prez of Tartarus. For a long time, I’d pushed the thought aside because Gray was Earl’s rightful heir, and now I had to push it aside again. Being prez of a motorcycle club, especially Tartarus with its backstory, and being the man at Marcella’s side (and I sure as fuck wanted to be the man at her side) was impossible.
“Think about it. There are more pretty girls out there. Maybe even prettier than the Italian princess.”
I gave him a doubtful look.
He shrugged. “Maybe not more beautiful. But they’d do.”
I approached Gunnar and patted his shoulder. “Thanks. But it’s not just her looks. Marcella is the queen I didn’t know I needed in my life. There’s no one else I’d like to be led around by the balls by.” I glanced at the hut, spotting three heads watching us through dirt-covered windows. I bet each of those guys had a gun in their hand.
“Is Gray in there?”
“There’s a small stream down the hill. He goes there when he needs to think.” Gunnar stopped me with a hand on the shoulder. “The boy hasn’t only lost his father, he also lost his brother.”
“He didn’t lose me.”
“Until a few minutes ago, he didn’t know that and maybe he still doesn’t. You could be his enemy. Maybe I’m a fool for thinking you aren’t mine too.”
“I’m not your enemy, Gunnar, and definitely not Gray’s.”
“Then tell him. The kid’s lost.”
I stifled my guilt. My decisions hadn’t only affected me. They’d affected Gray too. “Make sure these guys don’t put a hole in my head, all right?”
I clambered down a rough pathway meandering through woods as I followed the sound of rushing water. Gray was sitting on a massive stone, smoking and glaring down at the stream.
Gray didn’t look up even though he must have heard my steps. His shoulders stiffened though. From close up, he looked haggard, as if he’d lost considerable weight in the few days we hadn’t seen each other.
I stopped beside him, not saying anything at first. I wanted him to start this conversation, to give me an easy in. For once I was being the coward, but guilt always made me uncomfortable.
Eventually I cleared my throat. Gray flicked away the cigarette. He looked older than I remembered him and a fresh cut marred his left cheek.
“Won’t you say something?” I asked.
Still nothing.
“Maybe explain why you wanted to kill me by sending me along the mined track?”
I had to admit it fucking hurt thinking that Gray wanted me dead, that he hated me enough to want to see me being ripped apart by a booby trap. Maybe I shouldn’t be surprised.
“Swear that you didn’t kill our father,” he whispered.
“He was your father and not a very good one.”
Gray’s eyes widened in realization. “You really killed him!”
He pushed to his feet and shoved my chest, making me stumble back a step. “You killed our father!”
I raised my hands. I had absolutely no intention of fighting with Gray. “He wasn’t the man we both wanted him to be.”
“So what? He took you in and raised you, and you betrayed and killed him.”
“Mom raised us, and Earl made us part of Tartarus. We were more his soldiers than his sons, you know that.”
“You had no right to kill him!” Gray turned away, wiping over his eyes angrily. He was still a boy in many regards. He didn’t have Earl’s or my toughness yet, he had a soft heart. That would probably change eventually, especially if he kept living the MC life but I didn’t want it to happen to him. For some reason, I imagined Gray living his life as a musician, touring small clubs with his guitar and singing corny love songs to sweet small-town girls.
“It was either me killing him, or Luca Vitiello. Would you have really preferred for Earl to die at the hands of that madman?”