Page 20 of Deserter

He stretched out and lit up a joint. “You took off on me earlier. Are you sure you’re okay?”

I rubbed at my temple and sighed, “I’m just not in the mood for company tonight. Is that a fuckin’ problem for you, Donahue?”

“I didn’t come here to start shit with you, man. Look, David crashed and Lou took him back to the house, but I wanted a few minutes to discuss something with you.”

There was something in his tone that made me think I wasn’t going to like what he was about to say, and I looked up at him warily.

“I’ve got an uncle down in south Texas. My old man said he’s looking for someone to take over his construction business.” Slim’s jaw tightened when I remained silent. “C’mon, man. Say something.”

I steepled my hands under my chin. “You’re our Road Captain. You can’t just take off because it don’t fuckin’ suit you anymore.”

His jaw ticked in anger, but I looked back down at the scratch pad on my lap, dismissing him to check over the numbers for tomorrow’s run.

Instead of leaving, he stood up and leaned over me. “No? After everything we’ve been through, you’re gonna act like the goddamn Pres and tell me no? Where the fuck do you get off?”

“You were looking forward to patching in when you knew the kind of money you’d make for your family. Tell me I’m wrong. Now, you wanna enlighten me as to what the fuck’s changed?”

Slim’s face darkened and his hands balled into fists. I’d only seen him mad on a handful of occasions; out of the two of us, he’d always been the level-headed one.

“What’s changed?” he spat. “Six of our guys are going down for conspiracy! I’ve got a wife at home who’s preparing herself for the day that I don’t come back from a run!”

“You’re willing to give up everything for that? You’re going to force me to strip you?” I calmly asked.

He knew the deal.

You left Silent Phoenix with what you came into it with—nothing. I’d hunted down more than my fair share of former members and retrieved colors; and that included their club tattoos. Razor or switchblade, it didn’t matter as long as it got the job done.

Slim sank back down onto the couch. He looked like shit and I knew then that he’d been thinking about this for a while.

“That’s not it, Jamie. It’s David—” His voice cracked, and he worked his jaw back and forth until he was in control again. “This ain’t a life for kids and you know it.”

I raised my chin. “We grew up in it or did you forget that?”

He shook his head with a bitter laugh. “Fuck, it was a different time back then. Our old men didn’t have any other choice after the war. Me? I want my son to respect me; to know what it is I do. I told you back then that if I had a choice, I’d want to do something with my hands. This is it.”

My best friend was asking for the impossible.

“If I were the Pres, I would’ve already told you no.”

He barked out a rough laugh. “Well, thank Christ no one put your dumb ass in charge.”

“So, just like that, you’re out?”

“No, I’ll wear these colors ’til the day I die, but I’ll do it as a Nomad. You need me, I’m there. You’re more than just my friend, Jamie, you’re my brother.” With his compromise on the table, Slim sat back and took a long drag.

By offering to be a Nomad, he’d get to keep his colors and remain in the club. He just wouldn’t belong to any specific chapter. Our Nomads had always operated as a special forces team; coming in when shit went south. I wanted him here, but I had to admit that what he was offering was better than nothing.

“This is really what you want?” I finally asked.

He nodded. “I do. I don’t even care if it blows up in my fuckin’ face, I’ve got to try, you know? For my boy.”

I didn’t know. I’d had a shitty example of a father and I wasn’t willing to bring any child into this fucked-up life of mine. Slim was different though. He actually gave a shit about his wife and kid and did his best to do right by them.

I would’ve been a prick to hate him for that, even if I didn’t get it. “Okay. You wanna deal with a hundred percent humidity and mosquitos bigger than a fuckin’ dog, be my guest. You have my blessing.”

“I didn’t know I needed it,” he responded dryly. “But, thank you.”

I fought rage the entire walk back to my room after Slim took off. I wanted to drink until I fell off the goddamn barstool. I needed to hit something until I felt better about letting my best friend leave.

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