Page 50 of Biker's Collar: Property of Scrap

“Just because he’s older doesn’t mean he’s ready for more responsibility.”

“I’m just asking. I know the Waverly mess…”

“Kaylee-Marie is the mess. Not Waverly.”

I appreciate his efforts to make me see reason when it comes to my family. To my past. He has Anna to redeem him. I sense right now he’s asking me to leave Waverly behind. He must be.

“What is this about, Wyatt?”

“There are some things you can only trust with your family,” he says. “Dad did this with me in case… anything happened to him.”

He pauses for a drink. Wyatt doesn’t think he’s going to make it through this war.

“What are you doing after this?” I ask Wyatt, genuinely concerned now that his plan might be more reckless than I originally realized. He might be able to keep shit from other members of the club, but there are some things he can’t keep from me. I have the same itch that he does.

Wyatt shrugs, his green dice rolling compulsively over the tops of his fingers. I don’t ask about the strange new gnaw-marks on the dice as they roll across. He’s been doing this shit with the dice since we were kids. Mostly when he’s nervous or deep in thought. I don’t even know if he’s conscious of the hard plastic moving over his hands.

“Hunting down Midnight SS members on weekends,” he answers flatly, and without a suggestion in his tone that I have the option of changing his mind. “Keeping my mind off gambling.”

I can’t stop him from hunting down Midnight SS club members and we both know that Anna won’t accept another screw up if he doesn’t put her and his family first this time. He’s worried about going out like dad – by gunfire. I imagine his kid and the second one on the way changed his whole perspective on things. I feel like children would do that.

“You’re going to be fine.”

His body tenses.

“Anything can happen out there.”

“But it won’t happen to you.”

The dice slow down.

“I would feel better if you did this.”

“Why so secretive about it?”

“Because I’m asking you to go back to Las Vegas. We’re not just killing Midnight SS, we’re expanding our territory.”

“To Las Vegas?”

I want Wyatt to give me some wiggle room to get out of this, but I know my brother’s fierce determination when I see it.

“Yes. It’s strategic.”

“I see. Is the strategy to get me to completely lose progress on my gambling situation?”

I’m down to $10 a day most days, which is better than I was for a while. It’s a small habit at that point. Won’t get any bigger. Won’t get any worse. Unless I do something fucking stupid like run off to Las Vegas.

“No. It’s a strategy to make you stronger.”

“With all due respect, Wyatt, I don’t need you to help me with that.”

“Perhaps not. But I need to see how you handle pressure.” He turns to look at me, pleading at me with eyes that remind me painfully of our father. “Please. I’m not asking this to hurt you.”

Then why the fuck are you sending a gambling addict to Vegas?

“Who are you sending me with and what exactly do you want me to do?”

I was raised loyal to my club and my brother at the end of the day. I was raised to put trust in my family and to trust that my family would look after me. Wyatt has never let me down. But this is something more difficult for me to accept.

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