Page 45 of Enforce This

“No!” Oak roared back as loud as he could, his face turning red and spittle flying out of his mouth.

Mak flinched like he’d met the devil, but Oak didn’t back down, he charged forward, grabbed Makaveli by either side of his kutte and jerked him up until his toes were barely scraping the ground. “Makaveli is a fucking outlaw. He is my brother. A fearless, ‘born to ride’ bastard who will put anyone in the ground that threatens his club, or those he cares about. He’s a standup Mother Fucker that I’m proud to call brother.”

He paused to look Mak up and down, “Mikey was just a scared little boy whose mommy ran out on him, and whose father was too busy with a biker club, so you embraced everything he loved. You dove headfirst into the one percenter world the first chance you got… You turned yourself into the pistol-packing prince of outlaw bikers… And you fucking rocked it, man. You really fucking do… but right now… Your club and your kids need Mak and all I see is a scared little boy. I see Mikey again…”

My breath hitched. I think everyone’s did. I was never sure of much when it came to Mak, but we all knew him well enough to know he’d put a bullet in Oak the minute he got free after hearing some shit like that.

There were some wounds you didn’t poke at, but Oak had reached right inside and dug around for the splinter without even giving the man a piece of bark to chew on.

I started toward them, unsure of how to safely defuse the situation and deter them from their current stare down. Both men were visibly heated.

But before I could reach them, Mak let out a ragged breath and pushed against Oak’s chest. Oak let him go and Mak doubled, placing a hand on either knee.

“I don’t know how to fucking do this,” he breathily admitted. “I can’t raise three fucking kids on my own. I can’t earn money with the club and parent them like she did. I can’t be with them and…”

“Breathe brother,” Oak put a hand on each of Mak’s shoulders and squatted down until they were eye-level again. “We’ll never let you fall, Mak.”

Mak shakily stood and ran both hands through his hair.

“I need to get the fuck out of here. I need a shot.” He huffed, starting toward his bike. He paused and looked back to Ant, “Wait a minute, how are you–? How are you going to be at the funeral? I want you to be there, brother.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world, brother. I ever not been there when you needed me?” Ant winked.

Mak grunted and stormed toward the door.

The guys slowly started to head out; but I didn’t move. I didn’t plan on sleeping, so there really wasn’t much point in going home. Once I convinced myself that they had all left, I moved to the bar, laid the president’s patch on the counter, and poured myself a shot of whiskey.

When I looked up Montana was standing to my left.

“The fuck are you doing here?” I laughed.

Montana silently saluted me with his chin. “You know you got to do it, Prez…”

“Do what?” I hesitantly asked, everything was sounding so cryptic lately and ending up bleak, I was a little afraid of what his answer might be.

He grunted, his aged eyes smiling a bit as he reached forward and set Mak’s phone down on the bar beside the patch.

“Damn thing says it's ten… He’s due here at midnight, brother.”

He cocked his gun and saddled the barstool, laying the piece on the counter before he poured himself a shot from the bottle I’d selected.

I stared at the phone.

“It’s a mother fucker, when you know you’re about to change everything.” I sighed.

Montana snorted and emptied his glass in one haul.

“Everything changes, brother, the trick is to be able to adapt.” He winked.

“You got more wisdom and years than me, Montana. You sure you don’t want that patch?” I reached forward with one finger and started to slowly slide it in his direction.

“Brother, you couldn’t pay me to touch that son of bitch.” He gave a throaty laugh that made him sound much younger than his years. “I’m fifty-two fucking years old. I served with all twelve of the original disciples. I paid my dues. I served my country. I serve my club. I have no plans on retirement. I’ll ride until these old bones will no longer permit me to mount my steel horse… but I know what comes with the crown. I know the closer you are to it, the more pain you see, feel, and inflict upon others.”

I grabbed my shot and downed it, but the bite of the liquor didn’t take the sting out of his words.

“I also know what happens if you’re the one wearing it when the other shoe drops.”

I looked up at him, and he stared into my eyes.

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