Chapter 1 #2
I shrugged. “They ain’t spoiling nothing for me.”
After that, he dropped it. We shot the breeze for a bit until Alex drifted off with a woman he had sent a drink to.
And Jamie ended up dancing with Marla. I was pretty sure neither of them would be back.
And I was still nursing my third beer. I wasn’t drunk and wasn’t sure I even wanted to be.
For some reason, I also didn’t want to head home quite yet.
“Alvin?” Bryce’s voice suddenly called out. He raised his hand, waving me over with an easy smile. “Holy shit, it’s been forever.”
I hesitated for a second, then forced myself to grin. There was no sense holding a grudge because my former best friend had made something of himself while I had to get all my success the hard way. I came to my feet and headed in their direction.
Bryce Sterling pulled me into a back-slapping bro hug, and for a second it felt like old times. Then the luxurious feel of his shirt and the expensive scent of his cologne made me realize my former best friend lived a totally different life from me.
“It’s been a while, Bryce,” I said as he released me. For some reason, I was feeling a strange disconnect with him right now.
My eyes drifted past him, to Tracey, who was standing a few steps behind Bryce. She had a half-empty drink in her hand. Up close, she didn’t look quite as vibrant as she had from across the room. She was still smiling, but there were shadows under her eyes that I hadn’t been able to see before.
“Tracey,” I nodded, “It’s nice to see you again.”
She replied politely. “You too, Alvin. I hope you’ve been well.”
I thumped my chest with one fist. “Of course. It would take a lot to keep me down.”
Bryce looped his arm casually around her waist and tugged her closer. “Can you believe we’re back in Griffinsford?”
“Truth be told, I never imagined you coming back after all the glitz and glamour of LA,” I admitted, taking another sip of my beer.
Bryce shrugged. His tone was light and dismissive. “You know how it is. Being a big fish in a small pond is sometimes better.”
Tracey’s expression jumped up to Bryce and then to me before she dropped her gaze downward.
As if trying to grab my attention back, Bryce flashed that teasing grin I knew so well. Then he glanced down at my clothes and Dark Slayers’ prospect cut. “Prospecting for a motorcycle club, huh?”
“Yeah, I’ve always preferred my Harley over my car. You know that, Bryce.”
My pointed reply didn’t slow his roll one bit. It made me wonder if the alcohol in his cocktail was the reason he couldn’t control his mouth. “Yeah, you always did like to ride, but I have to admit that I never thought in a million years that you’d join a motorcycle club.”
“It suits me,” I stated bluntly, tiring of his digs at me prospecting for the Slayers.
He shot back, “Well, any way you cut it, you’re running errands while I’m saddled with running a corporation.”
My chin jerked up, swift and hard to punctuate my words, “We all pick our poison, Bryce. You wanted to be a big-time businessman, and I chose a different path.”
“You must like starting at the ground floor and working your way up. That’s what prospecting is all about, right?”
“Yeah, in the MC world everyone pays their dues if they want to be part of the brotherhood.” It sounded so reasonable and matter of fact when I said it out loud. “There’s no shame in proving your dedication before being accepted into a private club.”
“You’re a fairly smart guy, Alvin. Don’t you consider prospecting beneath you?” His tone might be playful, but an ugly edge lurked beneath the surface. I took another slow sip, intent on not letting Bryce Sterling spoil my night.
“MCs ain’t like the corporate world, Bryce.
You gotta earn your patch. You don’t get awarded shit because of your family name or because you’re sitting on a big pile of greenbacks.
” My voice turned tight because this discussion about my prospecting with the Slayers was way outta line and had gone on for too long.
Bryce laughed indulgently, “Fair enough. I suppose even I have to respect the grind.”
I glanced briefly at Tracey. She’d been quietly observing our interaction. Her eyes were alert but guarded. Finally, she spoke up, “I’m sure the club is nice, or you wouldn’t be involved.”
I shrugged, carefully keeping my voice neutral. “They’re mostly vets, like me. I like the idea of being part of something bigger than myself.”
She gushed, “It sounds amazing when you put it like that.”
Bryce cleared his throat. “Yeah, amazing is just the word I was looking for.” Tugging Tracey closer, he gave her a playful shake. “Thanks for speaking up, sweetheart.”
She blushed and pushed back from him a bit. “You’re more than welcome, Bryce.”
Shifting the conversation, he added, “You look good, man. Different than I remember, but good.”
“You too,” I responded. “I mean that. Congratulations on making yourself a nice life.”
“Look, it was good to see you, but we’re gonna take off. We’ve got to get home to our girls.”
Surprise lurched through my chest. “You have kids? That’s great. Fucking double congratulations on that.”
Tracey’s face lit up with a genuine smile. “We have five-year-old twin girls. We left them with a sitter, so we really should be getting back.”
“Oh, absolutely. Don’t let me hold you up.”
Turning back to my old friend, I told him, “It was good to see you, Bryce. I hope everything works out for you here in Griffinsford.”
Bryce smiled brightly, nodding in return. “Good to catch up, Alvin.” Then he spotted an older man in an expensive suit and excused himself to chase after the person.
I gave Tracey a questioning look. She rolled her eyes and murmured, “That was his father’s accountant.”
I teased back, “That’s Bryce, always chasing the money.”
She let out a strangled laugh before glancing over her shoulder to make sure he didn’t hear.
When her eyes lifted to mine, I got lost in the green depths for a second too long. She held my gaze as the music thumped around us and the neon lights flashed away.
I opened my mouth, desperate to bridge the distance between us. In that moment, I realized we were never going to be the laughing, carefree trio we once were. Tracey was now another man’s wife, my former best friend’s wife. And I had no business wrangling her up in a conversation.
Tracey looked away first, and that’s all it took for me to understand that I was making things awkward by staying to talk to her. A small flicker of disappointment settled in my chest, but I forced myself to step back.
“Catch you later. Have a nice evenin’,” I said before slipping through the crowded bar.
Outside, still in the cool air, I was able to shake it off, this inappropriate feeling twisting in my gut for another man’s wife. My fingers moved automatically to my phone as I looked down long enough to text for an Uber to pick me up. I took a shaky breath and shoved my phone back into my pocket.
***
Once I got to my home on the outskirts of the city I climbed the stairs of my big house and unlocked the door before I pulled off my cut and tossed it onto the sofa.
My footsteps echoed in a house that was too damn big for one man.
Not one single thing about this house felt like me.
The truth is, I bought it because I could and then left it untouched because I didn’t know how to make four walls a home.
The only reason I could afford to buy it outright was because I invented a suppressor that got noticed by the right corporate drone.
I got a lump sum for licensing, and the royalties hit my account like clockwork every month from the company that turned my ugly little field fix into something marketable.
They polished up the concept, arranged a production line of three different types, and slapped their logo on it.
Yeah, I’m the guy who was forced to come up with a brilliant idea to stay alive on a combat mission, and someone wanted my idea enough to pay cold hard cash. I should be proud.
Instead, I kept thinking about the night in Afghanistan when I built the first one out of scavenged tubing and a hacksaw, crouched in the dirt with enemy patrols too damn close. It worked and kept us breathing when the odds of walking out of that conflict were low.
Now it’s in the hands of people I don’t know, used in ways I can’t control. I’ve got enough money that I could survive without working if I were conservative, as well as a roof over my head, but it all feels hollow, like I cheated to get it. I know I didn’t, but it feels that way.