Page 92 of Bound by Wreckage
Epilogue
The Clubhouse
The brothersof the Ravage MC file in for church. Tug called in a meeting saying he had something for the guys to take a look at. Something from his boy Micah.
Micah escaped the wrath of the Ravage MC by going into the military, to make himlearn how to be a man. One that the brothers would see as more than a scared little boy.
The problem is when Micah left, so did the secret he’d been carrying around for a few months and didn’t know how to tell the guys. Or even if he should.
He decided to send his father, Tug, the information because they had a right to know. They all had a right to know. Micah knew it would turnthe Ravage MC inside out, but it still needed to be said.
Tug stands in front of the room holding up a large manila envelope. “Came in the mail today from Micah. Says to open it with all the brothers.”
“Maybe it’s his pussy and he’s tradin’ it in for a dick,” Ryker jokes, getting a round of laughs from some of the guys, but not Tug.
Tug has been dealing with his boy’s choicesfor a long time, each one killing him more than the last. He wouldn’t find anything funny that went against his boy, but he also wouldn’t protect Micah from his actions against the club.
Tug shuffles the envelope and it slides across the table into Cruz’s waiting hands. “According to my daughter, Micah was snooping around Ravage information, but she couldn’t figure out why.” He holds upthe envelope. “I’m guessin’ this is whatever he found.”
The room is quiet, waiting in anticipation. The anxiety can be felt throughout the space as the wonderment of what’s about to come slams us around.
Cruz tears the top, disregarding it to the table and pulling out the contents. His eyes scan the papers, then they widen and his face turns white as a ghost only to turn to fire-breathingrage in a flash.
“What is it?” GT, the VP, asks and probably the only one besides his two boys that would at this juncture.
“Crow from the Rebellion chapter. Is my son.”
Extras
Carsyn
Pullingout the letters from my mother from the new metal, fireproof storage box Nox got me, I rifle through them. My mother’s words onpaper have given me a lifeline to her that has been missing since her death. She’s wise and while I’m deeply saddened she’s gone, these letters allow me to keep her alive in my heart.
She would’ve loved Nox. I know it just because of the fact he makes me happy, and that’s her way. I wish she could’ve met him, see where I am today—in a home, with a good man and even thinking about goingback to school.
This is themeshe’d be proud of, and I’d give anything for just five more minutes with her. Since that isn’t an option, the letters are my only option.
Two stacks of letters in my hand, ones with my name, which are a lot, and a few with Buck’s name. I hadn’t read any of his yet. What I was waiting for, I’m not sure. Maybe I didn’t want to hear how wonderful Buckis through my mother’s eyes. Maybe I was scared that I’d think different of my mother, and that isn’t an option. She’s gone, and tarnishing any of that isn’t going to happen.
Undoing the rubber band on Buck’s stack, I thumb through them seeing my mother’s elegant script. The way she writes the ‘B’s are beautiful.
My fingers stop when Buck’s name appears the same as the others, butnot in the same handwriting. I’m not sure how I missed this because it’s plain as day that my mother didn’t write his name on this.
Setting the other’s down, I pull out the piece of paper through the already opened slat at the top. Each one of the envelopes is the same—pristinely open with something sharp as not to tear anything.
The paper is folded in thirds and as I open it myheart thunders in my chest because it isn’t my mother’s handwriting that stares back at me—no, it’s Buck’s.
I sit in the middle of the bed I share with Nox, legs crisscrossed and the air becoming tight. The letter is addressed to me.
Me.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My hands tremble, shaking the paper and making it rustle.
Do I want to read this?
Should I read this?
