Page 26 of The Grief We Hold

“I think he’s gonna choke on his own snot,” Smoke says.

Catfish mock vomits. “That’s a foul way to go.”

“I’ll think of something…sell my car.”

Butcher crouches so their faces line up. “We already took the fucking car. We want the rest of it. Or we’ll bury you, head down, in a ten-foot pit.”

Grudge looks at me and winks.

We’ve never done it. Not once. That threat is usually enough.

“Please, give me until Tuesday.”

Butcher nods. “Fine. But here’s the deal: We’ll put some men on you. You try to run, we’ll kill you. You try to tell the police, we’ll kill you. You do anything other than get us the fucking money, we’ll kill you.”

“I understand.”

I pull my knife from its holster and cut Ian’s hands free, moments before I slice the rope holding his feet. He has three seconds to save his face and fails.

All of us wince as his body lands on the barn floor with a splat.

“You ever fuck with us again, Ian, you’re going in that hole,” I say.

Butcher takes out his gun and fires into the ground near Ian’s torso as he tries to scramble to his feet.

Once he races from the barn, Smoke is the first to start laughing.

I grin as I watch Ian run, then disappear, down the dirt trail.

“Alright,” Butcher says with a grin. “Back to work.”

“Can I have a word?” I ask.

“Sure,” he says. “When we get back to the clubhouse.”

I kick my leg over my bike, grateful for the crisp and sunny Colorado afternoon. The rain may suck, but everything smells fresher after a deluge. Like it wipes the stain of humanity off the buildings and roads. Lets the brisk air from the snow-covered peaks absolve us all.

It’s one of the reasons I chose to live here. Was on a road trip cross country, already half in love with Colorado, when I walked into the diner and saw Hallie for the first time. Her father, Two Bit, was an Outlaw. A patched-in member.

Took me under his wing.

Made the proper introductions to the club.

I still had to prospect like everyone else. So, Atom’s dad gave me a job as a maintenance guy at the ranch, I prospected with the club, and somehow convinced Hallie to fall in love with me. Fucked it up once too. Never heard of club pussy until I was involved with the Outlaws.

One night, after Hallie and I had been dating two months, I had too many drinks and let a club girl ride my dick.

Of course, it was the morning Ma had let Hallie join her to make breakfast for the men, given hers was now one of them.

If I close my eyes, I can still see the look of hurt and betrayal on her face as she opened the door to my room to bring me breakfast in bed. She looked pretty as a fucking picture. All sundress and cowboy boots and strawberry-blonde hair ready for a roll in the hayloft with me.

She didn’t cry. Not then. Not in front of the girl whose name I no longer remember. But the shimmer of tears in her eyes hurt me more than any bullet wound has since.

I can still see the look on Two Bit’s face as he kicked the shit out of me in the courtyard. Then he stood me up, asking me if I wanted club pussy or his daughter, because he wasn’t gonna let me have both.

I picked Hallie.

And I never forgave the hypocritical fucker for that beatdown, standing there all pious when I knew full well he slept with club sluts left, right, and center whenever Ma’s back was turned.

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