Page 45 of The Grief We Hold

Both our phones vibrate at the same time, and I look at the message.

2 vehicles. 14 men. Parked on the edge of town, stationary.

The positive of living in a small town is there is only one main road in and out. And to get to us, everyone has to ride it. So, we put a camouflaged shelter back off the main road but with a clear line of sight to it.

Whenever we’re expecting trouble, we send a prospect out to man the seat and report in what they see.

“No more than fifteen minutes and they’ll be at our gate, if they come this far,” I say, opening the images the prospect has attached.

“Armored vehicles,” Atom says, staring at his own phone. “That rules out shooting at them from the lookout like Butcher planned.”

“I’ll go talk to him.”

It takes me ten minutes to find him out on the lot, standing by the gate, cigarette in his mouth.

We both watch off over the horizon. One of the benefits of this property is that our backs are to the mountains, and we can see traffic rolling in.

The sun is shining finally, and while it’s not warm, it’s definitely not wet any longer.

“Sorry ‘bout that shit I said earlier,” Butcher says. “Raven is welcome here.”

I want to dismiss it. Say that it’s no problem and we’re cool. “It’s complicated enough.”

Butcher looks up at the sky. “Thought Ember’s mom was different until she left town with that asshole who did our taxes.”

“Pretty sure it was the fact she found you in bed with two club girls that pushed her over the edge.”

Butcher chuckles. “Yeah. Probably that too. Anyway. I get it. Your dick’s saying yes. Your head’s saying maybe. And your heart or some shit is saying not yet. Hallie was a good girl. Club sluts fill a void. But sometimes it’d be nice to know there was someone waiting for you at home.”

I nod. “Yeah. Something like that. Hard to know which it is.”

“Are you asking me for advice?”

“No.”

“Well, I’m gonna give you some, anyway. Fuck her and see if you fall into her. Try her out. It doesn’t work out, then you ask Margie to quietly fire her, and you give her five grand to leave town. Never have to see her again.”

I open my mouth. “What the fuck, Butch? Why would I?—?”

Now, he downright belly laughs. “Should see the look on your face.”

He’s messing with me. “Fuck you.”

“I think you know what’s going on but just aren’t ready to admit it.” Butch looks down at his watch. “Why haven’t we seen them yet?”

“False alarm?”

Butcher nods. “Don’t like that they’re in our town. The less they know about us, the better.”

“We handled this wrong,” I say.

“What do you mean?”

“Two fucking vans? We should have ridden out as a club. Attacked rather than defend. We had time to rally. There were enough bikers here. I’m sorry I’ve been distracted, Butcher.”

Butcher looks at me like he can’t decide what the right thing to say next is. Like I just confused the shit out of him. “What?”

“You heard me. We’ve all gotten distracted.” I suddenly feel like a veil has been lifted and Spark’s words to me have settled within me. “We’re losing our nerve. We’re jaded. We don’t have the cohesion that King’s club does. We still have the fight, but somehow, when it hits the world, it’s diluted.”

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