Page 131 of Dagger

“My Iris isn’t weak,” he went on. “My woman is stronger than me and you put together. Granted, she may have lost her shit earlier, but right now, she’s standing in our kitchen with our girl, baking up a storm for tomorrow ‘cause she knows we’ll have a full house of men, women, and kids who’ll need feeding.”He shook his head disbelievingly. “Do you not think we had a conversation thirty years ago about leaving this club?”

My mouth fell open.

“Yeah,” he continued. “When Iris was snatched, beaten, and raped so brutally that they took away her ability to have kids, do you not think I wanted to take her out of this place and start again somewhere safe where she could sleep easy and live a beautiful life?”

My throat burned.

“But we’re still here, and it was my wife’s decision,” he revealed. “My Iris knew the risks of staying. She knew what happened to her could happen again, not only to her but to any woman involved with a Speed Demon, but we stayed because it was where she wanted to be.” His eyes narrowed on me. “Now, do you think Fender and Ashley never talked about the dangers of being involved with the club?”

“I don’t know,” I rasped.

“I’ll bet you my house they did,” my friend muttered. “And I also bet you that Fender doesn’t blameyoufor killing his woman in cold blood. He blames who heshouldblame. The damned fuckingSinnersand the traitor who fucked him over while simultaneously fucking us over—Shotgun.”

The heavy weight on my chest lifted slightly.

Abe spoke the truth, but it didn’t stop me from feeling responsible for the men in my club. That sense of responsibility extended to their wives and kids also. However, some things were out of my control, and that was the bugbear I had to work on.

“Thanks, Abe,” I muttered.

“You straightened your head out?” he asked.

“Not entirely,” I admitted. “But you’ve made me see the light.”

He grinned as he pushed his chair back and got to his feet. “Good.” His chin dipped. “You wanna come check on Reno with me?”

Nodding, I scraped my chair back, stood, and followed Abe to the door. “Thanks, brother,” I murmured, clasping his shoulder with my hand.

He craned his neck to address me and smirked. “Anytime, Prez.”

We walked into the corridor in silence, the strains of music and cheers from the bar filtering down the hallway toward us.

“What are they doin’?” I asked.

Abe barked a laugh. “What do ya think?”

A grin split my face.

In times of adversity, bikers had one rule.

Party.

We believed that life was for living, so we lived it as hard and fast as we could. The same exuberance spilled into other areas: love, work, and, of course, riding. Maybe it was the reason Stone men loved hard, fast, and forever. Stone men—and even women—were bikers at heart, and our dedication to living life to the extreme meant we loved to the extreme, too.

The sounds of the party got louder as we walked up the corridor until we hit the bar, and I stopped dead.

Three club girls danced topless on chairs, spurred on by the men who hollered and cat-called at them writhing in time to a Manic Street Preachers track the boys played in the clubhouse incessantly.

I grinned at the out-of-tune singing as a few of the boys at the bar joined in with the chorus, singing about how a girl stole the sun from their hearts. Laughter and shouts filled the air, along with the pumping bass of the song.

“This is what we fight for, Abe,” I muttered to the man at my side. “We fight for brotherhood and doing things our way. Mydaddy believed in a dream, a place where vets could go and find the same care and the same family they had in the military. We all came home fucked-up, but at least here, we can be fucked-up together. Maybe when I took charge, the dream changed, but the life we live means we answer to no one. We have to protect it at all costs, or else what do we do? End up on the streets ‘cause our minds can’t handle the rigidity of society’s rules like so many others have?”

Abe nudged his shoulder with mine. “We’re gonna win, John. We’ll beat them. Our club and way of life will prevail.”

“What if we lose more good men?” I asked, heading for the corridor, Abe in step beside me.

“Then they die knowing they fought for something real. They die knowing they’ve lived a good life with us, and their sacrifice will enable more vets, just like them, to find their home.”

We headed down the medical wing, and I turned to give Abe a tight-lipped smile.

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