Page 6 of Brooks

“Besides,” Dax added, winking at Tina, “we know how much you two lovebirds adore your little princess.”

“Damn straight,” I agreed, reaching out to squeeze Tina’s hand. I couldn’t deny the love that bound the three of us together — a fierce, unbreakable bond that gave us strength in even the darkest of times.

“Alright, everyone,” Tina announced to the gathered children. “Time for cake and ice cream!”

The kids cheered, racing towards the table where a beautifully decorated cake awaited. Kennedy’s bright blue eyes sparkled with anticipation as she stood on her tiptoes to get a closer look. The backyard hummed with a sense of serenity, a calm oasis that seemed far removed from the brewing storm that lay just beyond our reach.

“Happy Birthday, Kennedy,” I whispered, brushing my thumb across her soft cheek. Her giggle was a balm to my soul, reminding me of all that I had to fight for—and all that I would risk to protect this family that meant everything to me.

The laughter of Kennedy and her friends filled the air as they excitedly devoured their cake and ice cream. I couldn’t help but smile at the sight, my heart swelling with pride for my little girl. Tina stood beside me, her hand resting on the small of my back, a comforting presence.

“Hey, Brooks! Toss me a beer, will ya?” Ryder called out from across the yard, disrupting our intimate moment.

“Sure thing!” I shouted back, grabbing a cold one from the cooler and lobbing it over to him with ease. His hand shot out, catching it effortlessly before he cracked it open and took a swig.

“Nice throw,” he said with a nod of approval.

“Years of practice,” I admitted with a chuckle, watching as my brothers joked around and chatted with the other party guests. It was moments like these—when we were all together, not a care in the world—that I cherished the most.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I frowned at the unfamiliar number on the screen. “Excuse me, babe,” I murmured to Tina, stepping away to answer the call.

“Brooks, it’s Marty from the shop,” the voice on the other end said urgently. “We’ve got a problem.”

“Spit it out, Marty. What’s wrong?” I asked, my grip on the phone tightening as my gut churned with unease.

“Someone hit the shop last night, broke in and cleaned us out,” he explained, his voice shaky with fear. “They left a message, Brooks. It’s the Pistons.”

My heart raced, my blood boiling with anger as my mind raced through the implications of this betrayal. The Pistons had just declared war, and I’d be damned if I let them get away with it.

“Alright, Marty,” I said, struggling to keep my voice level. “I’ll take care of it. Sit tight.”

As I hung up the phone, I felt the weight of the situation settle on my shoulders. Our peaceful oasis had been shattered, and now I had to face the storm that was about to descend upon us all.

“Brooks?” Tina questioned, concern etching her face as she noticed the change in my demeanor. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing we can’t handle, babe,” I replied, forcing a smile for her sake. But as I looked around at the joyous faces of our family and friends, I couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was about to change—and not for the better.

4

The sunset cast an array of colors as I stood on the porch, feeling the weight of my Red Devil’s MC cut on my broad shoulders. The worn leather and the emblem on my bicep were constant reminders of the brotherhood I belonged to - the life I led outside these walls.

“Daddy!” Kennedy squealed, rushing over to wrap her tiny arms around my leg. Her laughter was music to my ears, soothing the rough edges of my soul.

“Hey there, princess,” I said, ruffling her hair.

“Uh-huh,” she nodded. “Uncle Zane is here!”

My brother-in-law was in the MC with me and was one of the few people I shared a bond that ran deeper than blood. As I entered the dining room, I found Zane leaning back in his chair, grinning at me.

“Long time no see, bro,” he said, reaching out for a fist bump. I obliged, smirking as we knocked knuckles together.

“Good to see you too, man,” I replied, taking my seat at the head of the table. Tina placed a steaming dish of lasagna in front of us, the aroma making my mouth water. We bowed our heads as she said grace, then dug into the delicious homemade meal.

“Hey, Zane,” I started, my fork clattering against my plate. “How’s life treatin’ ya?”

“Same old, same old,” he replied, wiping sauce from his bearded chin. “Can’t complain.”

“Good to hear,” I said, raising an eyebrow at him. I knew there was more to it than that, but now wasn’t the time to pry. Instead, I focused on enjoying this peaceful evening with my family.

---