Page 100 of The Oath We Take

I eye him carefully, wishing I’d stayed hidden just a little while longer. “We have reckoning coming, you and me.”

“We do. You’ve been shirking your responsibilities to this ranch and I’m over picking up the slack because of the club and that damn Deeks bitch.”

I’ve cocked my fist and let it fly before I even think the decision through. My father’s face snaps to the side, and he stumbles into one of the stable columns.

Wraith’s former mother-in-law, Margie, is all about the planets and moon cycles, and in this moment, I’m certain she’d have something to say about why everything in my life is suddenly falling apart.

I get the whole cycle of life, where old things need to leave to make room for new ones. I see it every day on the ranch. Crops are harvested and fields plowed. Winter isn’t a time for dread; it’s a time for growth beneath the surface so the first stalks of spring come from roots that are strong.

But this feels huge, like a detonation. Who knew I was so fucking angry inside?

“You know what, old man? I’m over you. I don’t know whether you never really wanted kids and were pissed Mom died, leaving you with me and my sisters, or whether you feel threatened because nothing about ranching comes easy for you and it does for me. I don’t know whether it’s because I have a better relationship with your own father than you do, or whether you’re just a lazy fuck who wants the money from this ranch but doesn’t want the work. Or perhaps it bothers you that you are nowhere near the biker I am, and I’ve already eclipsed you. But right now, this land is my grandfather’s. And I’ll bury you six feet under it before I’ll let you sell it out from beneath us.”

“You lazy fucking punk,” my father says, finding his feet again.

He attempts to charge at me, but it’s like a colt trying to take down a bull. I stand my ground and put him in a headlock, committed to choking him out.

The only sound is that of our boots on the ground, and the breathless grunts of my father.

“You want me to bury you today, I’m fucking game,” I say.

My father manages to get a fist to my gut, and the momentary distraction is enough for him to break free. His face is red, his eyes watering. “You got no respect for?—”

“Steady, Wheeler,” my grandfather says, stepping into the stable. “Your son is right. The problem we’ve got here is the imbalance caused when Hudson’s not here. You feel the pressure because that means you have to do your own work plus half of his. And that’s three times more than you are used to.”

“I do my share of the work,” my father says.

Grandpa laughs. “You doashare, but that’s not the same as doing afairshare. And even that’s not the same as doingyourshare. Stop treating your son like the hired help. Stop treating this ranch like it’s your personal retirement fund. Stop treating the two of us like we’re stupid.”

My father glares at me, then spins on the heel of his cowboy boot and leaves the stable.

Grandpa runs a hand through his white beard as he watches him go. “Wraith called me. Said there’d been some trouble. Figured I’d find you here.”

“Did he tell you what the trouble was?”

“He did. Said he didn’t believe a word of it and that he was going to do what he needed to do to figure out what was happening.”

“Kind of him,” I say, the words laced heavily with sarcasm.

Grandpa puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes. “He also told me about you and Ember.”

“Fucking chatty mouth he’s got today. Pity he couldn’t find it when he allowed me to be ambushed by Butcher.” I pat Butterscotch, who has moseyed on over to the stall entrance to see what all the noise is about.

“You know, Marcus Aurelius said the best revenge is not to be like your enemy. Don’t lose what makes you uniquely you and end up like them, Atom. You’ve got the strength and size to be an imposing enforcer. You’re intelligent, intuitive. This, you being mad at Wraith and yelling at your father, this isn’t howyousolve problems and fix things. You think. Don’t withdraw and not share what you’re thinking with Wraith, just because, in the moment, he forgets to share with you. Be their opposite.”

I finally look at my grandfather. “I need some sleep and then a ride to figure out what the fuck is going on.”

My grandpa nods, his blue eyes filled with watery sincerity. “I know. I’ve got you covered.”

I think of what Ember said about the land. “Have you ever considered giving the land the clubhouse sits on to the club?”

Grandpa rubs the end of his nose. “Thought about it, yeah? Figured there’d come a time at some point when it might be safer with the club than your father.”

“I heard Dad on the phone. He was frustrated. Telling someone that they couldn’t just throw someone off the land. Do you think he meant you? Me? The club?”

There’s a spark in my brain, joining dots that I perhaps shouldn’t. But Dad is rarely at the clubhouse these days.

“I’m keeping a close eye on your father. You have to trust me. But I’m going to assume you’re asking me about giving the land to the club because of what just happened today. That it could be a bargaining chip?”

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