Page 23 of Nitro

“Fuck! Fuck!”

“We’ll get his ass,” Scar promises.

I don’t reply. I’m too busy seething. Whatever comes out of my mouth won’t be good, so I keep it shut. Scar’s right—as much as I hate to admit it, with the tangle of back roads and Forest Service roads branching off the highway, he’s long gone.

We stop at The Wet Beaver to get my bike before heading back to the clubhouse. When I walk in the door, Crystal runs over to inspect my hands.

“Baby, you’ve got blood everywhere. Come here. Let me take care of you.”

“I’m fine.” I pull my hands away.

Crystal narrows her eyes before turning to Reaper. He growls low in his throat before disappearing down the hall. Crystal’s a pain in the ass, but she’s not stupid. She doesn’t bother going after him.

I wash my hands in the sink while Scar grabs two beers from the fridge. “Let’s go outside.”

“Sure, pres.”

I follow him out onto the porch. He walks around to back to the part overlooking the river. Water rushes past us, carrying fallen bits of leaves and other debris. I take a seat in one of five matching wooden chairs. When any of us need to be alone with our thoughts, we come out here and just sit. Sometimes one of the guys will join me, but they won’t stay unless it’s clear I want them there. We all respect each other’s space even though welive in the same house. Well, except Scar. He and Julia have a home of their own now. He stays there most nights, but during the day, he’s with us at the clubhouse.

“How’s the hand?” Scar asks after several minutes of silence.

“Fine.”

“I would have done the same shit, jumping into the truck the way you did. But when you fell out, brother, you could have been killed.”

“Marriage is making you soft.”

“No. It’s making me see how good life can be and how important it is not to be so reckless. You’ve always had a short fuse. You take too many risks. I know you wanted to get your hands on that guy, but if you die trying, then what?” Scar turns his piercing gaze on me.

“I don’t think. I act. Maybe that’s reckless, but that’s me.”

I give him the ghost of a smile before taking another swig out of the bottle. The icy liquid slides down my throat to soothe me. I’m wound tighter than a two-dollar watch. When I’m like this, there are only two things that can calm me down: drinking and fucking. I can only do one of those right now, so I guzzle the rest of the beer before tossing the bottle into the trashcan on the other side of the porch. The sound of it shattering relaxes some of the tension in my body. I wish I could smash the shit out of everything. Maybe then I’d feel better.

“Matrix tried to put a tracker on Polson’s truck but couldn’t get to it in time. You should have waited for us.” Scar scowls.

“I couldn’t. All I could think about was what he did to her, pres. I wanted revenge.”

“Believe me, I know all about wanting revenge.”

“Yeah.” I know we’re both thinking about Blackstone.

“We’ll get another shot at Polson. But next time, fucking wait for the rest of us. We’ve all got your back, but we can’t do it if you run off half-cocked like that.”

“I almost had his ass,” I grumble.

“And you almost got yourself killed. Don’t pull that shit again. Got it?”

“Yeah.” I nod as I get to my feet.

“Grab me another one too,” Scar says, tossing his empty bottle into the trash.

“I’m going to see my woman.”

“Send a club girl to get me one.”

“Hey, speaking of the girls, I don’t like Crystal. Something’s off with her.”

“Bad lay?” Scar asks.

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