Page 35 of Dark Seduction

“Not my place to talk about it,” I deadpan.

Burnt shuffles into the room, and I close the door behind us once I’m inside.

“Prospect, take off your cut.”

Burnt strips his leather vest from his shoulders. GP moves from his spot at Judge’s right side as VP, and stalks towards him. “On the table.”

Burnt, glances over to me, uncertainty in his eyes. I nod. “On the table, prospect,” I repeat.

He spreads out his cut onto the hardwood of the meeting table. The back of his cut is bare save for the lower Prospect rocker.

“Why do you feel you deserve to wear our colors?” Judge’s voice booms from the front of the room.

Burnt hesitates, looking at me for guidance. I step forward, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Tell them, Burnt.”

He takes a deep breath before straightening his back. “I believe that I’ve earned the right to wear the colors because of my dedication to this club. I’ve put my life on the line time and time again, and I’ve done everything that’s been asked of me without hesitation. I understand the weight and responsibility that comes with being a member, but I’m ready for it. I’m ready to stand with all of you as a brother.”

GP, pulling his pocketknife out, flips open the blade and hands it to Burnt. “Cut it off.”

Burnt’s hand trembles slightly as he takes the handle of the knife, bringing it to the stitches holding on his prospect rocker. One by one, he cuts it free until the patch comes loose. He steps back. His eyes never leave the scene in front of him.

Mom comes from behind him and lays down our colors along with the top and bottom rocker on his cut. Burnt looks up to him in pure shock.

I grin at Burnt, who is standing eerily still with a look of surprise and gratitude on his face. I can tell that he’s been waiting for this moment for a long time.

“Welcome to the Black Hoods, Burnt,” I say, clapping a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve earned it.”

Burnt nods, his eyes shining with pride. “Thanks, man. I won’t let you guys down.”

Judge clears his throat. “Alright, that’s enough sentimental bull shit for now. Now, we celebrate.”

BURNT

The loud musicof the party rages on behind me. It only took thirty minutes for our member’s families to show up. The ladies bringing with them a re-supply of beer, booze, and food. The guys had swarmed with congratulatory handshakes, and my cut, with the patches freshly sewn into the worn leather.

The only thing missing is Mack. I’d texted her the minute we’d left the meeting with an invitation to the clubhouse. The same message still set on unread nearly an hour later. I text her again.

The club patched me in. Come to the party, please.

I want to share this with you.

Still nothing. Silence on her end.

Are you okay?

Slipping outside, I try to call her, but it only goes to voicemail. I turn around and lean my back against the wall, taking a deep breath to steady my thoughts. I try calling her again, but it’s still straight to voicemail. Frustration bubbles up inside me. I need to talk to her and let her know how much this means to me. But how can I do that if she won’t even answer my calls?

“What the hell are you doing out here?” V asks when he spots me outside. “The party for you is in there,” he thumbs back towards the door. I stare back down at my phone, ignoring his attempt to redirect me back inside.

“She didn’t answer, did she?”

I look up at V, surprised by his question. “What do you mean? Talked to who?” I ask, trying to keep my voice level.

V looks at me like I’m an idiot. “Mack, dumbass. You’ve been staring at your phone for the last ten minutes trying to call her.” I flush at his words, feeling foolish for thinking no one had noticed my behavior.

“No, I haven’t talked to her. She has answered none of my calls or texts.” I admit.

“Same for me. She called out sick again today. That’s the last I heard from her.”

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