Page 125 of What Lies Within

Realization dawns, and Rae’s eyes widen. “Oh.”

Yeah, it's code. As in, is he still alive? Only a fool would ask a blatant question like that on an unprotected line.

Rae looks down, thumb flying across the screen. I take the moment to bask in her lighter mood. In her apparent ability to handle the situation better than when Maddie went missing. I want to say it's all for female reasons, given she said she's on her bleed now, but I get the inkling that perhaps we're conditioning her to this lifestyle, which is necessary. I can't expect her to be my old lady for life if she can't adjust to the chaos that goes down. But still… As I tuck her hair behind one ear, I get a strange sense of loss.

Of her innocence.

Her independence.

Her reminder of what it’s like to be a civilian.

Everything she does now evolves around the club. There are no plans for Rae that don’t first need to be run by me, Tyke, and possibly the officers. Every little thing she does is a reflection ofus, and that means every choice she makes regarding her career, her hobbies—damn—even how she looks.

It’s vanity amplified. It's archaic but steeped in heavy tradition, for good reason.

Our people are our brand. That picture we paint when we ride down the road? It says so much more about us than 'motorcycle club.' It offers the scared and vulnerable hope and reminds the arrogant and righteous who's there to put them in their place when they step out of line.

Our choices, actions, and beliefs shape our moral code, and if Rae truly wants to be ours, then she has to understand that.

“You okay?” She slides her phone in her back pocket and sets both palms to my chest.

“Yeah. I’m good.” I side my arms over her shoulders, hands hanging limp behind her, and cradle her against me. “Thinkin’ on our future is all.”

She offers a small smile, chin tucking to her chest. “It still makes me feel giddy when you say that.”

“So it fuckin’ should.” I mean what I say. Wouldn’t give voice to it otherwise.

“He won’t be far away, right?” Rae’s brow tugs into a frown as she gazes up at me.

I smooth the lines away with my thumb and shake my head. “Naw, he won’t be long. You want to wait outside for him?”

“I mean, does a brown bear shit in the woods?” She chuckles. “What do you think?”

“Wait here a minute.” I nod toward the gathering near the fire. “Better go let them know what we’re doing.”

Rae takes in Maddie and Harvey in conversation on the sofas. Minion playing a game of pool with his daughter. It feels empty in the clubhouse—too many spaces. But it's how it should be; the officers are doing what they must, staying close to Tyke in case he needs assistance. Come night, and we'll have a dozenor so more faces in here—the people who hold day jobs or come to socialize, having run their last ride before retirement. But for now, it's how it should be. A gathering of the people who matter most to me.

To us.

“Can we keep this between us?”

“That he’s on his way home?” I lift an eyebrow.

She nods.

“Minin will know already, baby girl. The guys would have told him.”

"Oh." She chews the corner of her bottom lip. "Is it wrong that I want it to be just us out there when he gets back—you and me welcoming Tyke home?"

"Not at all." I give the others a final glance and slide my arm around my woman, ushering her to the yard before anyone knows where we go. "I'm sure they'll understand."

“Thank you.” She steps into the cloudy afternoon before me, offering her hand to take.

I weave my fingers between hers and lead Rae toward the picnic tables.

The prospect on the gate gives us a cursory glance and then returns to his job, eyes always on the road, reading, assessing. It's a shit job—one I remember having in the early days of my initiation. It teaches patience, persistence, and loyalty. It's a test for Buster as much as it's a hazing. A solid month working on the gate, and we'll know if he has what it takes to be one of us.

Dare say his judgment will come up at the next meeting. His patch will go to vote, and the club will have another reason to celebrate.

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