Page 73 of The Bonds We Break
Placing my hands around the mug to warm them, I study the small ring of bubbles on the surface. “You ever think about that guy?”
Before Clutch’s foot had gone through the ceiling, some classic Kiss song had been playing. Wrinkle, Halo’s dad, had been fucking two birds like a pro. My dad had been laughing. But an argument had been brewing among some Miami members. Many years later, I’d asked my dad what had happened that night. He’d told me dues had to be paid. Someone had been stealing from the Miami chapter. Poor guy didn’t know it, but they planned a ride to kill him and bury him in the Pines. He lost all five fingers off his right hand in the middle of the clubhouse as a warning to other members. A precursor of what was to come.
“Not in a really long time. Why?”
I tell Clutch what Dad told me: dues had to be paid. “That’s how I believe it should be done too. How my dad did it. A traitor to the club needs to be handled in the toughest terms to stop others from getting ideas. You let one infringement slide, then people take liberties. And before you know it, the club becomes a nest of vipers.”
The server places our plates down in front of us. Two generous breakfast platters with everything from pancakes and eggs to bacon and home fries. It smells so good; I dive in and take four large mouthfuls.
“You weren’t voted in as president so you could keep doing everything the way your dad did.” Clutch squirts ketchup over his home fries before looking up. “You were elected because people have hope and trust in the kind of future you’re going to build for us. If we did everything in the traditional way of the old clubs, Vex wouldn’t even be a brother. But our dads thought the ‘motorcycle club for whites only’ policy was bullshit, and our club is better than so many others because of it. You can break the rules, Uther.”
The use of my real name feels good. We’re talking as friends. Not president and vice president. “Sorry I was a dick about you and Gwen at first.”
Clutch shrugs. “Water under the bridge. You already apologized.”
“Yeah? You and her still good?”
“About that.” He reaches inside his jacket pocket and pulls out a box. “Thinking of proposing. Maybe New Year. Maybe Christmas. Shit, maybe I’ll do it tomorrow and just get on with the rest of our lives.”
He opens the box and shows me a pretty diamond ring that is so perfect for my sister, I can’t help but grin. “You asking my permission?”
Clutch eyes me. “No. Because I’m a grown-ass man and you’re not her father. But I’m giving you notice about my intentions. My brothers are visiting me for Christmas this year for the first time. Gwen was the one who suggested I contact them and my aunt. I figured it might be the right time to pop the question.”
I think about Rae for a minute. The only time I’m going to be seeingherfather is to stick a knife through his cold damn heart. But for a moment I think about what her face would look like if I proposed. I bet there’s a proposal in one of those Shakespeare books. Bet Vex could find it for me if I asked him to.
I think about Rae standing in the cottage. Naked. Brave. Fierce even. Telling me she consented. I’d propose to her right in that spot.
Fuck. Me.
I’m thinking about the never-happening proposal to Rae and not the fact my best friend is sitting in front of me showing me a rock he intends to put on my sister’s finger.
“For what it’s worth, I’m happy for you.”
“It’ll make us brothers.”
I smile. “More than we already are?”
“You tell me.”
Shoveling another forkful of food into my mouth is a stalling tactic. If Clutch notices, he doesn’t call me on it. Instead, we eat in a silence that is a lot more comfortable this time. When I place my cutlery down on the plate, I sigh.
“I’m sorry as your president.” I remember Rae’s comments this morning. How deferring blame doesn’t help. “I thought we were all of one accord. It hurt to realize that we weren’t, and to make myself feel better, I’ve made some questionable choices.”
Clutch cups his coffee mug. “So unmake them.”
“Doesn’t that make me look weak? As a leader?”
He shrugs. “Makes you look human. Listen, you need to get Track to accept the vote and call off Bates and Niro, who are reveling in the drama like little bitches. Then, mend fences with Saint. His friendship and counsel was important to you, and it will end the division in the club.”
I nod. “Don’t know how I’m going to do it, but I will.”
“And you should apologize to Rae and let her go. The club should probably pay her compensation for whatever shit you pulled on her.”
Perhaps that’s the most painful part of all this. I know he’s right. The words cut through me like a hot bullet at close range.
And then he laughs. Like, not just a chuckle, but a full-blown guffaw that takes me by surprise.
“What the fuck?” I ask.
