Page 22 of The Trust We Broke
“Let’s get a license today,” Zach replies. “You and me is all we need.”
I chuckle. “It’s Thanksgiving. I’m pretty sure the County Clerk’s office is closed.”
“Tomorrow, then.”
Looking back, now, with the benefit and wisdom of age, I know we didn’t have all the answers, but God, it really felt as though we did.
“I love you more than life, Luce. There’s nothing I won’t do for you, I promise.”
And the fact he lived up to that promise is the very reason we’re apart.
5
GRUDGE
“You pot that black ball and I swear to God I’m calling this whole fucking thing rigged,” Atom, my newly promoted sergeant at arms, says as I line up to shoot the ball on the clubhouse table.
“It was your idea to play best of five for a hundred bucks.”
Atom huffs. “Yeah. But that was before I realized you were on a hot streak and capable of winning three in a row.”
I stand from where I was lining up the cue ball. “Haven’t potted the black, yet. Are you trying to jinx me?”
Atom tips the beer bottle back and finishes off his beer. “At this point, I’d do whatever it took to keep my hundred bucks.”
His phone rings, and he looks down at it before answering. “Hey, sweetheart.”
He listens to what she’s saying, for a moment, and I can see the concern growing on his face. “I’m at the clubhouse. Why?” Another pause. “I’m on my way.”
He picks up the hundred bucks he put on the side of the pool table and hands it to me. “Here. You win. There’s trouble in town. The girls are at Whiskey Fever, but some Rebels just overwhelmed the doormen and flooded inside.”
Ember, Atom’s old lady and daughter of Butcher, owns Whiskey Fever. It’s only just reopened after being set on fire by the Bratva. The last thing she needs is trouble from the Rebels and the place getting smashed up again.
“Then, let’s go. Are they causing problems?”
Atom shrugs. “She doesn’t allow colors in the bar. Ours or theirs. She doesn’t want it to become a biker bar. Must be bad if she’s asking me to give her a hand clearing them out.”
We grab Catfish and Smoke as we walk through the bar and persuade Jackal and Shade, the club’s new enforcers, who are in the lot about to climb on their bikes, to join us.
“Remember, no unnecessary violence that wrecks her goddamn bar,” Atom says.
Smoke chuckles. “So, wait until we drag them out onto the street before we kick the shit out of them.”
I roll my eyes. “As much as I love a good street fight, remember, cameras are not our friend.”
“So, drag them down a side alley and smash their faces in behind a dumpster?” Catfish asks.
I grin and squeeze Catfish’s shoulder. “That’s more like it.”
The ride into town hits different. I’m still getting used to riding at the head of the column. I’ve ridden behind Butcher for so long, it feels weird to be solo out in front. It also means I’m the first to see the long row of bikes parked on the curb outside. Maybe ten of them. I pull over onto the other side of the street and start a line for our bikes.
When we’re parked and cross over to the bar, I see Ahmed, one of Ember’s doormen, sitting on the curb with an icepack to his head.
“Good luck getting them out, boss,” he says to Atom.
The country music is playing loud, but there are raised voices coming from inside. Knowing we’re here for Atom’s old lady, I let him go first. We’re not here as a club.
Yet.
