Page 1 of Embracing the Consequences

There are pivotal momentsin a person’s life when you can dynamically feel that your life is about to change, that past this one moment in time,everythingwill be different…forever.

Sometimes those moments pass by us without a thought: finishing a favorite book, the end of an anticipated vacation.

Then there are the moments when you pause and recognize explicitly thatnothingwill ever be the same: graduating high school or college, moving to the other side of the country, starting a new job.

Or the death of a family member.

The death of Mac “King” Taylor, president of the Ravager Knights Motorcycle Club, hit Kara’s family hard. The news had plowed through their lives that day and left a shitstorm of chaos in its wake.

Mac Taylor had been a king in his own right: a leader, a friend, a president, a father, a damn good man. Kara knew the Ravager Knights MC would never be the same after his passing, just as she knew the lives he touched would never be the same. His death left a hole inside both the club and his loved ones, a hole that would never be filled.

As Mac was president of the national charter of the Ravager Knights, the funeral had been pushed out a week to allow time for members from every charter across the US to travel to Mourningside, Illinois. It would be an epic showing of colors, brothers from across the nation banding together in this time of grief.

Kara might have only met the man once, but even then, she knew he was larger than life. She heard it in the stories men told when they were deep in their drinks at night. She heard it in the way the old ladies spoke about him with a bit of reverence in their voices. She saw it in his son every single day.

Kara found herself at a loss for how to help Johnny since Mac’s passing. So she did the only thing she could do: she wrangled the old ladies to handle meals and lodging for the club. Even though they had a full restaurant and chef on hand, they had closed things down to family only.

Sheila, Hotrod’s wife, was a godsend in organizing all the women and showing Kara the ropes. Spare rooms were turned over, sheets cleaned, cots set up. She made sure everything was ready for when the hordes of out-of-town charters descended on the clubhouse.

Kara took her cue from Sheila, letting her take charge. She supposed that now that Johnny would be the new president, as his old lady, that duty should or would fall to her…but Kara hadn’t thought about those ramifications yet—they’d technically only been dating three months.

They had been three fast and glorious months. But she knew in her heart it didn’t matter. She’d told Johnny as much before. He’d moved her into his house when hers had burned down, and they’d agreed she was staying for good. Somehow that had only been six weeks ago.

They hadn’t been home much in the week since Mac was killed in jail by Las Serpientes, a rival gang. Kara stayed at the clubhouse with her boys: Derrick “Devil” Halson and Kevin “Rockstar” Adams. They ended up in Johnny’s room most nights since it had the most space and the bigger bed, though that didn’t really matter. Though Johnny never left the clubhouse, he didn’t come to bed with her and his brothers. Most of the time it felt like he avoided her at all costs.

Kara would get up in the middle of the night to look for him. Some nights she’d find him in his father’s room, sitting in his recliner and just staring into space. Other nights she’d find him in his father’s office or church, staring into space. One night she found him in the garage, working on his father’s ’79 Camaro.

That night—almost a week ago—was the last time Johnny had spoken to her. She’d tried to get him to come to bed, and he’d brushed her off. They hadn’t argued, he had just told her he’d come to bed when he was ready before he turned his back on her.

She tried to not let it get to her, tried to be strong for him when he was around. But late at night, when both Derrick and Kevin were sleeping on either side of her, she let the tears fall. She hated that he was hurting so badly. She wished he would let her help him.

The funeral was in two days, and the clubhouse was busier than ever. Sheila brought back the caterers and restaurant staff: it was all hands on deck to feed the army of men that descended on the clubhouse. Kara was glad to hand over the reins to the professionals.

With the meals taken care of, there wasn’t much left for Kara and the women to do. Most of the girls sat back and drank—if they weren’t pregnant like Marlie and Rachel—with their men.

Kara found herself feeling out of place.

Johnny had made it clear he didn’t want to be around her. As vice president of the Ravager Knights, Johnny was next in line to take over upon his father’s untimely death. An official vote hadn’t happened yet, and wouldn’t until after Mac’s funeral, but it was more a formality at that point. Johnny was busy making his rounds with his brothers. Though he wasn’t talking to her, he was at least talking with them.

During the day, Kevin was also busy making the rounds with the out-of-town members who rolled in daily for the funeral; since he was the likely choice for vice president, it was expected of him. With Johnny tapped to be president, it would be his job to appoint the new vice president. Derrick had told her not that long ago that Kevin was a shoo-in for the role. Kevin, who had been Johnny’s best friend since childhood, had grown up in the club alongside Johnny. Their fathers had been best friends. It made sense.

Kara knew it did, but she hated the pressure it placed on Kevin’s shoulders. She hated that Kevin had lost some of his cocky swagger since Mac’s death. He’d always had a mischievous glint in his eyes that drew Kara in. That glint had dimmed in the last week.

And Derrick, well, he kept her company when he could, but as the club’s sergeant at arms, he was busy digging into Las Serpientes, looking for a weakness and for a way to stop this war before it could kick off completely.

There was no doubt that Mac Taylor’s murder had left a void. They’d lost a giant in their world. Together they would have to carry the weight of his legacy.

Kara just wondered if she would still have a place in their new world.

As dusk fell onthe clubhouse the evening before the funeral, Kara packed up the last of her things from Johnny’s room. Derrick told her they would be giving his room to an out-of-town president. Derrick and Kevin were also giving up their rooms in the dorms to accommodate the sheer number of guests they now hosted. The club had rallied to find beds for everyone. Between brothers’ own homes and dorm rooms and the motel down the street, they had made it happen for the over three hundred members.

Kara was in the process of loading her Lincoln MKX when she felt Johnny watching her. She glanced over her shoulder to see him, half in the shadows, some twenty feet away. He was leaning against the wall of the clubhouse, his foot propped up, while he smoked a cigarette, the red-orange cherry burning in the night. The shadows hid his face, but she knew he was watching.

He was always watching. His eyes had tracked her around the clubhouse all week. Constantly watching. He just never approached her. He made no move to come to her now either.

She sighed and tossed her pillow on top of her duffel in the back of the SUV. She had somehow managed to acquire quite the collection of personal items at the clubhouse in the last week. When she was done, she hit the button on the tailgate and stepped out of the way of the automatic closing gate.

She turned to Johnny. He was still there, cherry glowing in the shadows, though now his entire body was cloaked in shadow. She thought about ignoring him as he had ignored her all week, thought about getting in her car and driving away. But in her heart, she knew he was hurting and wasn’t handling things well.

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