Page 23 of Speed

“Going to tell him? Tell her?”

“Carly, who are you talking about? Him, her?” My stomach flipped when the look of ‘giving me a fuckin’ break’ crossed her face.

“I saw him, he’s the one, isn’t he?”

“When, where, and how?” I was stalling, she knew, I knew it.

“Told you I was out at the clubhouse with the sheriff, talking with Mr. Davis. Evidently, he’d just got back. Saw him before we left. Did you honestly think when that man looked at me, fuck, Sami, I don’t think identical twins could look that much alike?”

“Going to take a shower. Errands to run today: grocery store, post office. The fun stuff. Be safe today.” I walked into the bathroom and shut the door, effectively stopping the conversation. Well on my part. My friend had more to say.

“Might want to tell him. Soon too. ‘Cause though I think they are a few cells short in the brain department, pretty sure he’s going to see the resemblance. Truthfully, I don’t know how any of the Black Hawk MC who have seen her, haven’t picked up on it. That is one thing about club life that stuck with me—family is family—they don’t let theirs go far.”

It went quiet, and I reached and turned the knobs to start my shower. Carly was right, more than she even knew. And me... Well...

Out of time came to mind as I stepped into the shower.

Chapter Ten

Speed

My watch read noon, and I ran my hand over my head, then rubbed my thigh as I raised from the squatted position. I’d woken at three a.m., sleep a distant memory as it was most nights. From then till now, I’d gotten a lot of things done. The room with my dad’s boxed things was the first place I’d hit after coffee had been made.

The room now was sorted into two parts: one, things that needed to be given away, the other, mementos of Cutter I would keep. I’d lived with the man my whole life, but going through his things, left me wondering if I’d actually known him. We were as close as father and son could be. Yet I’d felt his loss every time I pulled a picture I had drawn, a test paper with an A+ circled on the top, he and me in a photo from my graduation—his arm over my shoulder and a smile spread across his face. He’d even had pictures that reflected the stages of my childhood as I aged, the last photo in that group being the day I left for the Marines. The picture must have been taken by one of the other men because Cutter stood off to the side in the picture with the focus being me with the others: Crusher, Flirt, Jag, Coast, and Devil. I’d been the first to head away from the club and the last to come back to it. What caught me off guard in the photo had been the expression and posture of my dad—they’d showed the proudness that he couldn’t speak aloud of.

He’d been a tough father, keeping emotions in check, and he raised me the same. Not without love or that he’d never shown me he cared—it was just never said aloud but always there.

After that chore was finished and I found nothing in his things that pointed to why that one day he would have been out on his own at night. Not like I thought anything would be there. I’d just hoped to answer a few question that bothered me about it all.

I placed the tools back in their spot at the workstation. After the bedroom cleaning, I came out to the garage and removed some of the damaged parts to his bike, so I could put a list together of the parts I was going to need or rebuild to put it back in riding shape.

“Hey, Speed, what you up to?” Crusher and Jag walked into the garage.

“Wow, man, you’ve been busy.” Jag bent and looked at the parts laid out on the tarp.

“Seeing what I’m looking at with getting it back in running condition,” I shrugged, opened the container of Gojo, and began to clean the grease off my hands.

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