Page 63 of The Vow

“Huh?” Carmelo thought he’d misheard.

“Going nomad.” Colt swung around in the wheelie office chair he had in his office. The chair looked too small for him, he rarely sat in it at his desk. “It means Max would still be a member of the Black Coyotes, but not of the NorCal chapter. He’d be a lone wolf, so to speak.”

Carmelo nodded slowly. “But there is only the NorCal chapter and the Vegas chapter of the Black Coyotes… so he’d just, what, drift between here and Vegas? I’m not sure that’s a good idea, Colt.”

Colt angled his neck until it clicked. “Max could drift anywhere he wanted, he’d be free to come and go here and the Vegas Chapter, but he could go anywhere in the States, anywhere in the world…”

“Hmm.” Carmelo grunted thoughtfully. “No rules?”

Colt shook his head. “There are rules. Rules about how nomads should behave, respecting other clubs, territories-”

“Respect and Max don’t go too well together.” Carmelo winced.

It was Colt’s turn to grunt.

It was the kind of thing that could make or break Max. Ultimate freedom. Max would either crash and burn or he could thrive with that kind of freedom. Colt had a difficult decision to make.

“I thought Max would be like another Ash, unkempt but basically moldable with a bit of direction… like how it helped me… joining the MC…”

Carmelo shrugged. “Everyone’s different, Colt. Max is a tricky case, his school couldn’t handle him, his family couldn’t handle him…”

Colt rubbed a hand over his face.

Carmelo took a breath and stood up from the chair he’d been sprawling in himself. “Well, I don’t envy you, brother.”

Colt grunted again. “And how are you and Lena getting on?” Colt asked, leaning back in his chair. “Avo on sour dough and walks in the park, now, is it?” Colt teased.

Carmelo gulped. “Today was... different... good, I mean… okay…” he paused, unsure how much he should tell Colt about his father’s revelations, and his conflicted feelings about it. He took a breath and relented, explaining to Colt how the Zakarian Syndicate in New York had raped his mother. He didn’t mention the other baby with the horse blanket.

Colt listened with wide eyes. “Fuck, brother, what are you going to do?”

“I was thinking of investigating the Zakarian Syndicate in New York a bit, see if I can track down the fucker who actually…” It was Carmelo’s turn to sigh. “I don’t know, I mean, it wasn’t her fault, but...not only is she representing a criminal organization, it’s a criminal organization that has directly negatively impacted my family... yet I’m kind of... I think I’m falling for her... a bit...”

Carmelo looked up at Colt and he had a lop-sided, sardonic smile on his face. “Ya think?” He replied.

Carmelo bit his lip. “I’m fucked, aren’t I?”

“Marriage is gonna be filled with conflict anyway, brother, small or big. You might as well go all in.” Colt shrugged.

Carmelo rubbed a palm over his chin. “I’ll be grappling with my conscious over this forever, won’t I?” Carmelo said.

Colt pouted and nodded slowly. “Scary answer? Yes.” He kept nodding. “Yes you will. So it comes down to is she worth it?”

Well, Carmelo already knew the answer to that. Yes she was.

So when Carmelo emerged from that heavy conversation from Colt’s office into the more airy bar, and saw Lena, curled up with Shadow asleep on her lap, smiling and chatting happily to the MC members, his heart jolted with pride in his chest. The guys of the MC, Rafe, Jared and Sully, were all sprawled about, all chatting merrily. Chase, Colt and April’s oldest son, sat on April’s lap, chatting away in his little piping voice and smiling whenever one of the crowd addressed him. It was a happy scene. Carmelo felt the love from the distance he was at. The ease of the interactions. The respect each person held for one another, the comradery. He felt home.

He went and forced his way in to sit beside Lena on the sofa. “Move up, move up, there must be room for a little one,” he joked, placing a hand on Lena’s knee and leaning in. He wanted to kiss her.

“Pah, pig, little? Don’t know what planet you’re living on-”

“Ahh Jared, you’re just miffed you’ll never get to taste this bacon-” Carmelo quipped back, thwarted in his attempt at a peck on Lena’s cheek.

Jared, the big, bearded guy with a long mohawk and the ubiquitous tattoos, promptly swatted Carmelo lightheartedly.

Chase wiggled off his mother’s lap and tottered over to where Carmelo sat, with a book in his little podgy hand. Baby animals.

“‘Melo read,” the little boy instructed, waving the book haphazardly in Carmelo’s face.

---