“No.”
“You sleep all right?”
Nodding, I comment, “Pretty good,” which doesn’t do it justice.
For the first time in years, there were no lights shining in my eyes in the middle of the night. No fights. No screaming. Nobody losing his shit from being behind bars. It was the best sleep I’ve had since I went away. Only way it could have been better is if Kat was in the bed with me.
We go up to the third floor, past the garage on the first, then the rec room on the second where my life ended four years ago.
The office is different. It’s still shabby in the same way, with secondhand office furniture and filing cabinets. Reed takes a seat in an old office chair behind one of the desks and I take the leather sofa across from him that I don’t remember from before. At least one thing has been updated.
The garage doesn’t open for another thirty minutes, so we’ve got time to kill.
“What’s it like with my uncle being in charge now?” I remember back in the day when he and my dad would go at it.
Reed’s thumb taps on the armrest, a telltale sign of his anxiousness that’s always given him away.
“If I’m honest, I miss your pops.”
He died while I was in prison. I didn’t get to attend his funeral, and it’s one of my bigger regrets. I should have been there for that. Instead, I was in a cramped cell reading a warden-approved paperback book about metalworking.
“And things are still unsettled?”
“It’s more about the leadership now.” Reed rubs a hand over his face. “Duncan Tray, that prick from up north tried to step in and negotiate with our contracts … so when your uncle insisted on voting for change, we went with it at first.”
“At first?” I hate that fucker Duncan with everything in me. When I was locked away, I know he paid people on the inside to fuck with me. He’s lucky he’s still breathing.
“Some of the members want to move into a bigger space and expand the operation. And others want to stay where we are, with what we have.”
“What do you think?”
Reed searches my eyes for a moment before telling me he’s one of the few who doesn’t feel comfortable expanding. “Your uncle wants to, though, and he hasn’t dropped it. It’s just … we’re heading past the territories we have agreements with.”
He’s tense, barely moving other than the nervous tap of his thumb. “The pres won’t let it go.”
I can only nod, taking it in and unsure of what this Sunday will be like.
Church was never contentious that I remember. I was young, practically a kid, and I figured things would stay the same forever. Church was for brainstorming ideas for the garage, for fucking around and giving each other a hard time. For splitting cash after handing off deals for the organizations that relied on us. The Cross brothers up north, and the Valettis down south with their connections to the docks. We acted as a go-between and took a hefty chunk of change to make it worthwhile.
“I don’t see why we need to expand unless things have changed? Have we lost deals or taken smaller cuts or what?”
“No,” he says and his voice raises slightly as he shakes his head, “money is good. There’s no reason, that’s what I’m saying.” He hesitates and pauses his tapping before saying, “It should have been you who took over.”
All I can do is swallow down his statement with both bitterness and loss. I always knew eventually I’d take over my dad’s place in the MC. Years and years and years from now when my pops was gray haired and didn’t want to do it anymore.
Life’s a bitch.
For the second time today, I miss my father. If I close my eyes right now, I could see him sitting there in place of my best friend. He sat in that seat nearly all my life.
My throat is so tight, I can’t even offer an opinion. I haven’t been back long enough to know which path is the right way forward. I haven’t been out long enough to know what I want to do with myself, let alone make a decision that would affect the club.
“You’ll vote with me on Sunday?” Reed questions nervously and I don’t hesitate to nod in agreement.
“Yeah,” I answer, my tone reflecting my apprehension given everything that’s changed.
“Sorry, man … it’s mostly good.” Reed shakes off the tension and relaxes his shoulders as he catches on. “You looking forward to seeing everyone?”
The coffee hasn’t cured my hangover yet and I don’t want to answer questions about prison. Many of the guys in the MC have been in jail for one thing or another, but I’m the most recent, the youngest … and I took the fall when any of them could have done it instead.
The more I think about it, the angrier I get.
“Yeah.” I clear my throat and tell him, “It’s good to be home, I just … need a moment to get reacquainted I guess.”
I took the fall for the raid, and they’ve been careful since then. It makes me bitter to think about it. If Kat’s dad hadn’t fucked around the way he did four years ago, I wouldn’t have lost her, I wouldn’t have gone away and I would have been here when my pops’s health started going south.
Leaning back, I settle on something that brings a smile to both of us. “I’m looking forward to working on my bike,” I say.
“Working on her?” He grins and says, “I fixed her up so she’s practically brand new.”
I chuckle, nodding my gratitude.
My mind wanders to Kat. Thinking she’s all sorts of new to me too.
New and apparently off-limits. Or so she thinks.
Even if I can’t touch her, I want to be in that house. Wanting that soft bed with her scent on it. In prison I had to sit with all these feelings. There was literally nothing else to do. I could try to jog them out in the exercise yard, but I was in my cell most of the day. You learn to deal with the waves of rage. Some guys do, anyway. Other guys go crazy in there. Who knows? Maybe I was one of them.
Reed eventually does some work on the computer. He makes a few calls. His uncle comes in and the three of us have a conversation that feels like it goes on forever, but only lasts about fifteen minutes. I’m getting back to life in the club. This is life in the club.
The garage is where I lose most of my time, remembering what could have been.
Working with metal and surrounded by the nostalgic smell of oil, the feel of labor bringing a burn to my muscles forces the time to tick by. For the first time since I’ve been out, there’s a moment of peace and ease. And naturally … my mind wanders back to her.
It always comes back to her.
It’s not until I climb into Reed’s truck, and he gets in behind the wheel that he brings her up. “You two …? What’s going on there?”
“I haven’t spoken to her in a year,” I tell him. He’s busy nodding his head while I admit, “But I want her back. I want us back.”
I keep my last thought unspoken as he turns over the engine: I need her back. If I have her, everything else will be right again. I fucking know it will.
I’ll make it right. I’ll make her love me again.
Kat
Lydia leans against my kitchen counter and looks out the window into the yard. Her takeout container is open on the countertop next to her and she pokes her fork into it, then scoops out another minuscule bite. “I’m going to miss this.”