I could tell Ryan was nervous, but he kept trying to hide it. Something he’d started doing in the last few years, trying to act like a tough guy around me. I knew it was because he perceived me that way, but I hoped he knew I had a softer side too. It might not have fit my biker image, but I got nervous, sad and anxious like everybody else on the planet. “Adjust your mirrors and seat, make sure that you can see behind you and reach the pedals comfortably.”
I watched as he did what I instructed.
He gripped the wheel tightly in his hands once he was ready to begin.
When he turned to look my way, I was once again struck by how grown-up he looked and a small, crazy part of me wished that I’d had more kids, even though the last thing Amy and I needed was more complications in our divorce. I couldn’t see myself ever entering into a serious relationship again, so I knew the chance to have more kids had already passed, and that was a shame. Ryan was turning out pretty great, despite the animosity Amy and I had toward each other. Being a father was the best thing I’d ever done in my life.
“Okay,” I said, focusing on the task at hand. There was no point in thinking about more children when I knew there was no woman out there I could trust completely after the betrayal I’d suffered at the hands of my ex. I just needed to forget about it. “Now, we’ll put the car in drive …”
I had been very close to the previous club president and founder, Rider. He’d passed away six weeks ago and the loss was still fresh, the grief hard to get past. I’d been vice president of the club before he died, and the club’s rules stated that I had to take over the position of president. I was happy to do it, even though I had some big shoes to fill.
There had been some changes implemented in the past month and we’d lost some members as a result, but I was determined to move the club in a more legitimate direction and all the remaining club members were completely on board. The criminal activity had stopped immediately.
In the past, we’d been involved in everything from drug running to arms dealing. We didn’t directly hurt people, as a general rule, but we did whatever would bring in big money to the club and its members.
I wanted more for the club. I wanted to be proud to be a member of Rebel Saints, to know that we were making a positive impact in the community. Most importantly, I wanted to make this area safer for my son.
As Ryan grew older, I realized the chance he could be negatively impacted by some of the club’s activities became more and more of a possibility. Even if he didn’t end up being offered drugs or something similar, he’d still be in an unsafe area every time he visited me. I didn’t want that for him. I wanted a better legacy than that of a criminal.
So this was why I’d been happy to accept Harper’s proposal that the club provide additional security for the casino. Not only would it improve our reputation in the community, but it would also bring in a little money. Most of the club members had jobs, but there was no denying it hurt our savings accounts to move the club in this new direction. Having an extra source of money wouldn’t be a bad thing at all.
Still, despite the support the changes had received from all current club members, I knew everyone was bummed about not only the loss of Rider, but our fellow members who’d left us so recently as well. The way they went about it severed ties with Rebel Saints permanently, which was massively disappointing. To help keep morale up, I decided to invite everyone over to my house for a backyard barbeque. I wasn’t much of a cook in general, but even I could handle grilling some burgers.
I now stood on my back patio, watching everyone mill around the backyard surrounded by a six-foot privacy fence. Most of the guests were standing around talking or sitting on my patio furniture, except for two people.
Hawk was lounging in my hammock with his eyes closed, possibly taking a nap.
Ryan was alone, leaning against my small shed, where I stored my lawnmower and some tools, with his cell phone pressed to his ear. He’d been on that thing almost constantly since we got home from his driving lesson earlier today.
As I watched him from my spot at the grill, he smiled broadly, ducking his head. I recognized that look on his face. He had to be talking to a girl. He hadn’t said anything to me about her yet, but his body language was easy to read. The boy was probably in love.
The sound of feminine laughter drew my attention to the patio table closest to me, where the only two women in attendance were sitting. Gunner’s Old Lady, Michelle, and Maverick’s Old Lady, Keshia.
Gunner and Maverick were the only members currently in committed relationships and their wives wore their own cuts with the Rebel Saints patch on the back. The difference between theirs and an actual club member was the bottom rocker didn’t list the club’s location. Instead, it said Old Lady in pick thread. Smoke and I had been telling Harper the truth about that. It was considered a position of honor among us.
I watched the women talking to each other for a moment, taking note of the way Gunner’s arm rested around Michelle’s waist while Keshia sat on Maverick’s lap. A very familiar scene. I’d brought Amy around all the time when we were together. She’d worn my patch on her back. I’d been so proud of that.
Then, it had all gone to shit.
I thought about Harper. Things were still new between us. No promises had been made, no commitments. I liked her, and she was one hell of a kisser, but she’d never be more than a notch on my bedpost. It was all I had left to give her, but she deserved more, and I knew it. She was a classy woman. A good woman, I suspected.
I should leave her alone, I decided, as much as I possibly could while working security at the casino. I didn’t want to lead her on. It was a shame because I wanted her, but I had to give it a try for her sake.