Page 36 of Hawk

“Knock it off. It wasn’t like that. She was injured, and I took care of it.”

“It was a tiny shard, and Etain was seeing to it,” I remind him.

“It was taking too long, and I know what I’m doing,” Drifter says.

“You sure as fuck do, but you usually avoid using your talent unless it’s a brother.” Drifter should have been a doctor. He still could be if he’d listen to us, but he decided to close the door on that part of his life when he left the army. We’ve both seen too much, but to throw away a gift that he so obviously has pisses me off.

Drifter remains silent, gazing off toward the street.

“Look, brother, if you want Sasha, go for it,” I urge. Drifter avoids Sasha at all costs, yet something snapped in him today. Even though Sasha’s father was already leaving, Drifter barrelled into the house, and when he saw Sasha bleeding, I heard the growl come out of his throat before he leapt into action.

“There’s nothing there. Let it go,” Drifter says.

“Jesus! Really?”

“Let. It. Go.” He enunciates the three words with such conviction that I know he’s shutting this down again.

“Right. I’m heading to the shop.” I’ve got to put some distance between us before I lose my shit on him. I head back to Etain’s place and finish getting dressed. Then I hop on my motorcycle and ride off, leaving Drifter, standing guard over Etain and Sasha.

As soon as I get to the shop, I hunker down under the hood of a car. It calms me. I’ve loved tinkering for as long as I can remember. I would take shit apart just to see how it worked, then put it back together. That’s why I pursued a degree in engineering while serving my country, but somehow I ended up working with bikes and cars. No regrets. I love what I do.

Respect is the key to leadership. Not only receiving respect, but giving it. Our club is still in its infancy, and we’ve made plenty of mistakes, but we’re growing and learning every day. Drifter crossed the line today. I should have torn a strip off him for the way he spoke to me. Any other MC president would have beat the shit out of him to teach him that lesson. My men have a past, and sometimes it surfaces and brings out the worst in them. Being the president of Redemption Riders means I have to guide them to the road we all agreed on. This is a hard role, but I wanted it, because I know I can be the leader the club needs.

I still remember the day the core six of us decided to make it official. We’d talked to Guard and the Satan’s Pride MC brothers before we decided to create our own club. Guard offered to let us join the Pride, but I knew I needed to spread my wings. I wouldn’t be content for long as a Pride member. Guard knew this too and encouraged us to work together and form our own chapter.

Flex, Shooter, Phantom, Drifter, Decker, and I sat down to talk it through. Flex and Shooter are our scouts, Decker is the treasurer, Phantom is the sergeant-at-arms, but when it came down to deciding on a president and vice president, Drifter decided I should be the president. He never gave his reasons and willingly took on the role of vice president, but insisted I take the lead.

I give a lot of leniency to the founding members of the Redemption Riders because we’ve been through some rough times together. But today, I wanted to knock Drifter in the head for his stubbornness. His barking at me is unacceptable and damages my credibility as the president. It’s a conversation I have to have with him, but I hate it.

It takes a bit, but once I’m focused on the crankshaft, I let the tension of the morning ease out of my body. Then I hear a knock on the hood, and I roll out from under the car.

“Sorry, brother. I want to give you an explanation, but I can’t right now,” Drifter says.

“Soon,” I insist.

“Yeah” is all he says. I can see he’s not ready to give me more. I could push, because as president of the club, I have every right to know what shit is whirling around in his head. Especially with the Jackals setting us up for a fall and us having to prepare for a battle.

“I need to know I can count on you. That the club can count on you. The storm is heading our way. I need your head in the game, Drifter. You’re my best friend. I’d do anything for you, but you know how many are depending on us. We swore we’d never be taken down again, and the Jackals are circling,” I remind him. I get to my feet, put my hand on his shoulder, and quietly add, “I’m always here if you need me.”

“I know. Need to sort it out myself first. No matter what, I’ll always be here for my brothers. This has nothing to do with the club.” He looks over at the next bay to the car waiting for him to work on. “Going to get to work.”

I nod, and he leaves. I disagree with the idea that this has nothing to do with the club, though. If a brother needs space, we’ll give it, but in the end, we are one. What affects one of us affects us all.

Etain and I have exchanged texts throughout the day. Apparently, Sasha has jumped onboard to help Etain out with the accounting stuff. Sasha is filing and sorting, and Etain is doing the rest. This is Lee and Declan’s fourth run to bring more files out to them. Each time they return, there’s a note on where to store the paperwork with explicit instructions on Etain’s new filing system. Not the most glamorous job, but Lee and Declan don’t complain.

Me: You’re keeping my boys busy.

Etain: Sorry :)

Me: Everything okay? How’s Sasha doing?

Etain: All good here. Sasha doesn’t want to talk about it. I’m respecting her wishes.

Me: She might need some time.

Etain: Yeah. She’s happy I stayed. I can tell.

Me: Miss you here, though.

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