Page 16 of Walker

“Nah. My loyalty is always to you first. You’re club family, Griff. That’s what it means. If her story had any bearing on you personally, I’d give it to you straight. Fact is, it doesn’t. If her girl wants to give up the conversation she had with her mom next time she sees you, then that’s her story to tell and you get that information then.”

“Ariel," He corrected me.

I nodded and showed some respect for the girl I knew he liked. “Ariel is going to be just fine, Griff.”

“How do you know?”

“I know because she has one hell of a momma at her back and a damn good friend in you when she’s ready to talk. From the looks of things at the store, she wouldn’t mind making that friendship something more.” I gave him a wink and watched as the poor boy blushed. I didn’t even know what it felt like to blush anymore. I hoped like hell he was able to hang onto a little bit of that innocence a while longer. Life had a way of jading people pretty quickly and I didn’t want that for my club brother’s son. He already had a rough enough start at things.

“Let’s get back to your dad before he has an aneurism wondering why you tore into the clubhouse like your ass was on fire.”

“Did not,” Griff argued back.

“Fuckin’ did, kid. ‘Bout gave us all a heart attack.”

“Sorry,” Griff mumbled as we both turned to head back out to the common area. When we did, Sweet and Quickshot were both standing there in the doorway to the office. It was clear they had overheard everything, and when Sweet crooked his finger, I knew there would be questions.

“Head on back out to your old man, kid. I’ll be along in a minute. Need to have a chat with Prez.”

“Is everything okay? I didn’t get you in trouble, did I?” Griff asked. The kid knew that my relationship with most of my club brothers had been damaged years ago, but I wasn’t sure if he knew the details. At any rate, he knew it was my fault and now the kid was tuggin’ my fuckin’ heart strings, thinking he caused me trouble.

“Nah, man. All good.”

He refused to take my word for it.

“Walker’s not in trouble, kid. We have club business to discuss, just wanted to grab him before he had a chance to wander off again.”

Griff narrowed his eyes on Sweet. “He was just out there playing pool before.”

“We weren’t finished with our meeting then, Griff. Go out with your dad, now.” Quickshot ordered in an easy manner that said he wasn’t mad the kid was looking out for me, but he wasn’t going to take no for an answer either.

I nodded and Griff finally took off toward the common area, but he made sure to look back and check on me a couple times before he turned out of sight. I chuckled at the thought of a teenage boy looking out for me. I turned around to see amusement on the other men’s faces as well.

“That one is going to make an excellent brother one day. Loyal to his core,” Quickshot commented.

“He’s a good kid.”

“I think Spike might beg to differ,” Sweet replied.

I turned on him then. “Nope. Not going to do that. Griff is a good one. Spike knows it too and wouldn’t thank you for speaking ill of his boy. Both of them have shit to work through because of the cards that life dealt them. You aren’t hanging that on a teenage boy’s neck to tote around.”

“Okay, we hear you,” Quickshot offered as he threw a glare toward our Prez. “Come on, best to do this in the office.”

“What’s up?” I asked as they shut the door behind me.

“Keys wanted to know what the fuck you were doing on their property last night?”

I glanced between the two men and noted Sweet with his arms folded across his chest. I didn’t think Keys was at the heart of the question, considering my Prez’s attitude toward me. So, this was how it was going to be. We were still here, where I was hemmed up by my club because of shit their women held against me. I laughed.

“You two start out fucking talking about how loyal that kid is going to be as a club member and here you are hemming up a brother because he’s somewhere your women don’t want him to be. How the fuck is that a club problem? How does that justify either of you calling me to the fucking principal’s office?”

“Watch your tone,” Sweet growled.

“Nah, I don’t think I will. I took your shit. It took me eighteen fucking months to earn my patch back the hard fucking way. Stayed clear of everyone else’s business in that time. Did my duties, remained loyal when I questioned if the same loyalty would be returned to me. Wondered what the fuck I was still doing here, wearing this kutte, when it doesn’t feel like a family anymore. It feels like I’m one of the hang arounds left dangling for attention most days, only I don’t bother to go seeking it out for validation the way they do.”

“Wait a minute,” Quickshot interrupted me.

“No, there’s no waiting on me saying what needs to be said anymore. Either you wanted me patched back in or you didn’t. I served my time for the shit I pulled. Did it with a fucking prospect patch on my back for eighteen fucking months. In case you lost count, that was six months longer than it took to earn my patch the first fucking time around.” I looked them both dead in the eye before I added, “Six months longer than you said it would take when you first stripped my patch.

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