Prologue - Jake
I’m holding onto the door handle with one hand and the buckle of my seat belt with the other, praying my grip will keep the two pieces locked as Mom white knuckles the steering wheel. The way she’s driving is scaring the shit out of me.
Mom never drives crazy with us kids in the car.
Old Miller Mine Road is known for its curves and bends, and she’s taking every one of them at record speed.
My stomach is still tied in knots with the lack of information and the deafening silence thick in the cab of the truck.
Pop always told us stories, the accidents happening on this road. How common they are. He always says it’s the people’s own stupid fault for trying to take turns too quickly and allowing themselves to get too close to the edge.
My thoughts are scrambled. My stomach is turning as I try not to let my mind play all the possible scenarios, we could find waiting for us. As we round the last corner, the accident is within view, and everything becomes clear. Someone’s badly hurt.
Everything seems to move in slow motion.
We pull to the crash, taking everything in. It’s like in the movies, where the camera slows down time. I take it all in a panoramic view. The subtle movement of the trees from the summer breeze. The loud distant cracking noise of old wooden branches off in the short distance. The air conditioning is barely moving Mom’s loose strands of hair. The car. The motorcycle. The pick-up truck. One single picture at a time as I study every detail of what must’ve happened here.
There are dark skid marks swerving in a crazy pattern along the asphalt. Debris scattered along the stretch of road.Steam coming from the ground where the vehicles slid, before coming to their final resting places.
There’s movement. Someone wearing a Kings’ cut is squatting close to the ground, slowly moving around. From this distance I can’t tell who it is.
My eyes follow the path of the wreckage. Everything inside me turns to panic.
Caleb’s old blue truck is parked next to the front end of a wrecked black car. The small car is facing the wrong direction with the back half hanging, caught between the guard-rail and the mountain wall.
Mom slams on the brakes, jerking us both forward hard enough to lock my seat belt against me. Her right arm slams across my chest. Jayde drops her toy onto the floorboard. Her loud screech as she yells at Mom in protest, the only sign she was affected by the sudden jolt. Mom apologizes as she explains she’s trying to avoid the streaks of liquid and broken metal scraps scattered across the road.
“Shit! I’m sorry. You two, okay?” Mom asks, her chest heaving with each breath she takes. I nod. Jayde scowls. Mom reaches for her toy, placing it back in Jayde’s lap. “There you go sweetheart. Mommy’s sorry for scaring you.”
Judging by the dark marks and swerved pattern, it looks like the driver spun, lost control, and smacked against the mountain several times before coming to a complete stop. Both sides of the car are smashed to shit. Whatever happened, it finally ended with the back end of the car leaning against the railing and the front driver’s side pinned against the mountain wall. It looks as if the railing is the one thing keeping the small car from falling.
The front of the car looks like an accordion. I can see the silhouette of the driver through the spider web made of glass in the windshield. The front wheel axle is broken in half, both tires flat.
The front end has fluid dripping, pooling underneath while steam rises from the hood. The passenger’s side airbag is hanging, deflated, where the passenger door once was.
Pop and Gabe’s bikes are parked farther back near the railing. Another bike is on the ground.
I still haven’t seen Pop yet. My heart is pounding at a rapid speed.
His bike is still standing, so it wasn’t him who crashed. But I can’t be sure. He could’ve been riding one of the custom builds before the customer takes it home.
Shit.He has to be here somewhere. But where?
Mom parks us across the road on the opposite side in the turn-out under a tree. As soon as she has the truck stopped and catches sight of Caleb, she flings her door open and starts running, yelling at me over her shoulder, to stay put and watch my sister. She leaves the keys in the ignition turned on, with the hazard lights flashing. I’m able to open the windows at least, flooding the car with the scent of burnt rubber, smoke, and a hint of honeysuckle.
With Jayde in the back seat and the heat of the summer day I need to keep the air moving or she’ll get too hot. I’m sweating like crazy already, but not because of the heat.
The broken mirror of the bike lays in pieces off to the side of Caleb’s truck. Orange paint scraped on the ground. Busted red and yellow plastic shards look like confetti sprinkled on the asphalt.
The bile continues to rise in my throat, my heart feeling like it could burst through my ribs as I take everything in
As I look closer, I know the bike. What’s left of it.
I’d know his orange flame job anywhere. It was one of the first custom jobs done at Gabe’s garage.
The bike isn’t a complete loss. The tank and the front of the frame are still intact. I’m sure it slid across the ground before landing in its final resting place. Its owner, on the ground, not far from it.
Thomas. The traitorous asshole.
Caleb, the club president, Gabe and Thomas’ father, is on the ground beside Thomas. With Caleb’s large body blocking my view, I can still see the dark puddle of blood on the ground. It’s running past Thomas’ legs. He must be in bad shape.
I scan the scene looking back and forth for any sign of Pop. Caleb yells to Mom, “Thomas is alive,” drawing my attention back to the bike.
He says a few other things as Mom approaches him, but I can’t hear him with the rushing sound of my own heartbeat in my ears.
Where the hell is Pop?
Mom’s a nurse so her first instinct is to go to Thomas, but before she takes another step, Caleb shouts, “I have Thomas’ wounds handled. An ambulance is on the way. It’s Gabe and Mack who need help.”
At the mention of Pop’s name, I scan the scene frantically, not seeing him anywhere.
Pop needs help? Where is he? I’m ready to jump out to help, but I don’t know where Pop is and I can’t leave Jayde in the truck alone. She’s two.
I watch as Mom hesitates for a moment until Caleb says something else. I can’t hear anything but my own breathing echoing in my ears. I follow his pointed finger with my eyes to the black car where Pop and Gabe are desperately trying to drag someone from the front seat. I feel a sudden rush of relief to see Pop alive and in one piece. “Pop!” I yell through the window, while tears I hadn’t realized I was crying stream down my face. He turns, scanning the area until he catches my eyes. As soon as he does, he stands tall and nods. It’s all I need to release the tension and the ache holding my chest hostage this whole time.
“Pop’s alive! It wasn’t him. He’s not hurt,” I say to Jayde, but really trying to reassure myself, as my heart jolts back to life and relief floods my body, relieving most of my tension.
I know it’s pretty fucked up to be this relieved while others are hurt and there is so much chaos and apparent tragedy going on. I might feel guilty, but I won’t apologize for the relief I feel. The fact is, at this moment knowing I haven’t lost my father is what matters most.
I feel myself starting to calm a little as I follow the movements of the men working on the car. Gabe’s in the front passenger’s side seat, while Pop’s in the back. The car’s rocking back and forth with whatever they’re doing inside the vehicle. The railing is making an eerie creaking sound, and more and more fluid continues to drip from the front end as the car rocks.
Mom is standing near the back of the car. I hear her yelling at the men, asking how badly the driver is hurt. I can’t hear their replies.
There’s a weird mewing sound. It doesn’t fit with what’s going on.
Gabe drags a woman from the front seat and lays her on the ground with her head in his lap. He quickly takes off his cut, folds it, and places it under her head, sliding her off his lap as he begins inspecting her body for injuries. The image of how he’s clinging to her, stroking her long blonde hair while tears drip from his eyes, will forever be burned into my memory.
The neck and shoulders of the woman’s blue top is covered with blood. Her long legs lay there completely unmoving.
Using his black handkerchief, Gabe wipes frantically at her face, trying to clean her, talking to her as he does. He touches his forehead to hers as he speaks to her, rocking her back and forth in his arms. I’ve never seen a man like Gabe cry before. He’s one of the toughest bastards I’ve ever met. I’ve admired him in every way, as much as I do my own father, and here he is in front of me broken, looking completely lost.
I wake with a start. My breathing is heavy. My chest is tight. Sweat coating my skin.
Fuck me.
The sound of my phone vibrating, scrapping across the wood of the bedside table wakes me from a restless state of sleep.
Jesus, it’s been sixteen years since hell rained down on the Kings of Fury MC. I was just ten years old the day everything went to shit. It was one of the most difficult things this club has ever lived through. I didn’t understand it all at the time, but the events of that summer would change not only my life, but the lives of everyone around me. It was the day I learned, even Kings can be brought to their knees.
What I didn’t know, is it wouldn’t be the last time.