Page 69 of The Chase

They hadn’t had a moment to talk any further about what they planned to do, after their meeting with Blue earlier. They had gone back to the cabin and talking had been the last thing on their minds. They had been at it for hours, it had been blissful. But she was sore, thoroughly spent. They had collapsed into sleep and hadn’t talked further.

His reaction to her ideas had surprised her. His hesitation. She thought Colt would’ve been more in favor of going back and reclaiming his MC. She’d thought long and hard if she could be the ‘ol’ lady’ of a biker. She’d listened to his stories of life in the MC before. The parties, the roughness, the sweet butts. Women who belonged to the club, who were shared by the men. Who did the cleaning, the cooking, but who counted for nothing. She couldn’t be one of them. And she didn’t like the sound of it, at all, for anyone else, either. Then there was the illegal activity, the guns, drugs, the turf wars. Even if Colt changed this, made a better club, April knew there would be violence. She knew there would be catty women eager to dig their claws in. If April did find herself in the position of ‘Prez’s ol’ lady’, she would have to be strong, brave.

She would have to trust Colt to do right by her and the interests of the club. But then she’d weighed it against the other side of MC life. One big family having each other’s backs, belonging. Living how you wanted. Making your own rules. Maybe she could convince Colt to ban sweet butts or something. She wanted a sense of warmth, creativity, of building something worth having. A mini society of their own making was appealing. She wanted a pool and a vegetable garden. She wanted to escape the rat race of her white collar world. Where success was measured on how much your salary was and how recently you got promoted and how many square feet your apartment was. She wanted to be surrounded by people who were good. Who cared about their family, about each other, about what they built together. In San Francisco, she’d regularly push people out of the way to get a place on the subway train, a place that involved standing in someone else’s armpits, on her way to meet people she didn’t really know or like. No, to hell with that.

She wanted roots. She wanted something amazing. She had a heart full of love to give and she wanted to create a family to share it with. Kids, yes, but friends, aunties and uncles of their choosing. Brothers and sisters. An amazing place to bring up those kids. Colt’s kids. Trials and tribulations. Getting a cup of coffee and always having someone there to chat with, to share laughter or tears with.

So before she’d suggested it, she’d thought about it. She could see it in Colt when he spoke about Ash, how he would make a good prospect. There was light dancing in those dark chocolate eyes of his. He became animated, gesticulated, and talked more. He became alive. She thought he’d have been more up for it, though, when she’d suggested it. Yes, Blue’s reappearance had obviously shocked him. She had bargained on Colt’s anger, but not his pain. The embrace with Blue... she’d teared up herself. She hadn’t realized her father had meant so much to Colt. Had been so much of a father figure to him. So maybe that had been too much of a shock. Too much to process on top of the other things, too. She thought Colt would be more angry at her, for keeping it a secret. He had been angry, but more at Blue. And more confused and hurt, she’d seen a glimpse of the scrawny, lost fifteen year old who showed up at the clubhouse, and it had melted her heart.

However, when she’d shared her idea of reclaiming the MC, she thought he’d jump on it. But he hadn’t. He didn’t seem willing to compromise on the things Blue had said. A MC with FBI backing, it sounded ideal to April. But she’d seen it in his eyes. Fear of being cooped up again, not free. Not in control. Fear of being betrayed. Answering to someone else’s call. Fear of being imprisoned again. Even if it didn’t involve walls and fences this time, but other people’s agendas. It had really changed him. April was beginning to see how the time he was incarcerated affected how Colt felt about pretty much everything. His decisions, actions and reactions. He needed stability, trust. He needed people around him who he could rely on. April wanted to be that for him. He needed a home. To block out memories of prison. He needed roots, so he could feel grounded and safe. He needed routine, to ward off the emptiness. Warmth to block out the frostbite from the cold. April wanted to give him all of that.

She honestly didn’t think it would come to anyone dying. Maybe she was naive, but she thought once Colt read them the riot act, they’d give up. Go home, find a new MC. They’d leave quietly. Wouldn’t they? Cleaver was different. April felt burning hate like she’d never felt before for another human being. She’d stewed on it, how he’d orchestrated her kidnapping, directed the prospects to take her. Driven her in the back of the car for hours, then basically trussed her up. All because he wanted that money. To become a sex slave, to be used and abused. It didn’t bear thinking about. The loss of her dignity, her freedom... if Colt hadn’t come back for her... she shivered involuntarily.

Colt saw and put a hand on her arm. Silly man, now that she’d refused his foolish notion of them separating in different directions, he wasn’t flapping anymore, he wasn’t the self-doubting ghost she had first met. The Colt who had been ballsy bravado one moment, then a shriveled wreck of a man the next. No, he was gone, and in his place was her fierce, brave biker bad boy. Her Prez.

Colt licked his lips and continued, “Going back... this wiping the slate clean... you know what that means, right?”

April rolled her shoulders back and down. “I don’t think it will be the bloodbath you fear, Colt.” She tried to sound brave, too.

“I don’t fear it, I’ve killed before, and I’ll kill again, I know this,” he added evenly. The simple way he said that sent a different shiver through April. “But I’m just checking if you know what it means... I don’t believe in heaven or hell, or God, I don’t believe my soul is damned, but it changes a person... it has a weight… and some people can’t carry it.”

April heard what he was saying and thought about her next sentence carefully. “The anger, the rage I feel, Colt, that’s too heavy for me... it’s too hot, it burns too ferociously. That’s what I can’t carry. I don’t want to burn in that rage anymore.”

Colt took his eyes off the road to look at her. Really look. Search her soul for the truth in her words. Search for the strength it would require.

“Okay,” he said simply.

April sat back in the car. Yes. She felt ready to start the chase, as the hunters this time. The chasers. Hunting them down and getting rid of the threat they posed. Once and for all. Any means necessary.

Colt set his jaw. “Can you call Blue, let him know?”

April cursed under her breath. “I don’t have his phone number. We used that gardener’s website to arrange a meeting.”

“Fuck,” Colt said. “Well, we’ll do it ourselves.”

The driveway came into view, the parking lot, the main lodge building, the way out. Ash was there, waiting for them, unfaltering Ash.

Colt pulled up next to Ash and his uncle’s Mercedes, parking the VW in beside it. Ash had his arms crossed over his chest, baseball cap on backwards. April could see his face, curious and excited, lit up in the outside lighting that was casting a soft orange glow over him.

“Well, I’m going to be honest, I knew your real names weren’t Mr. and Mrs. Black,” Ash said, as Colt jumped out of the VW. Colt grabbed the saddle bag.

April climbed out slowly, letting her hands trail on the dashboard, on the door. She said a swift little goodbye in her mind, bitter sweet, to the van she’d come to love. The van they’d basically stolen in the first place. She suddenly had the urge to cry. Remembering how she’d been so unsure about taking the van in the first place. She didn’t feel like the same woman now. That was before. Before Colt had made her his. Before she had become undone by him. And re-made. She set her jaw and climbed out of the van.

“Ash, drive this to this address I’m about to text you, just over the border in Oregon. A guy called Millhaus runs the garage, this VW is his, he’ll be happy to get it back. If you get that far, there’s a beautiful custom Triumph waiting for you there.”

Ash nodded slowly. “Sweet. Where do you want me to drive the bike?” he asked.

Colt shrugged. “It’s yours, wherever you like.”

Ash gaped for a second, then snapped his mouth shut. “Seriously? A custom Triumph? I could keep it?”

“Sure.”

Ash fist pumped the air.

“But you gotta make it to Millhaus’ garage first. That’s an all night drive. And you’ll have company.”

“Some people are chasing you? You owe money or something? On the run from the police?” Ash asked excitedly.

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