Chapter 11
Boiler
As the sun rose, I prepared for the day. The roar of my Harley beneath me felt like a steady heartbeat as I tore down the open road. Threatening the riding clubs into showing up for the Hell on Heelz charity run wasn’t exactly what I’d pictured myself doing, but hell, here I was.
I never thought I’d be doing anything for the Hell on Heelz, let alone riding in a charity run for breast cancer. But if it meant proving to Tank that I was serious about us—about her—I’d do it without hesitation.
My mind wandered to the previous night. Tank’s walls had shot up faster than I could blink, and she’d pushed me away like I was the fucking plague. But I saw something in her eyes, something that told me she wasn’t as sure about her decision as she wanted to appear.
As I rode into town, I thought about my brothers. Not all of them were on board with the truce. Riptide might be getting hitched to Brat, but that didn’t mean everyone else was ready to cozy up to the Heelz. I needed to talk to them, convince them that riding in the charity run wasn’t just about the truce—it was about something bigger.
I pulled up to the first club, a group of weekend warriors who called themselves the Iron Riders. Their clubhouse was a converted gas station, the walls covered in graffiti and their bikes lined up outside like a display of half-assed masculinity. I strode in, my presence commanding immediate attention.
“Boiler!” the president, a scrawny guy named Creature, greeted me with a forced smile. “What brings you here?”
“Cut the bullshit, Creature,” I growled. “You and your boys are gonna be at the Hell on Heelz charity run next week. No excuses.”
Creature’s smile faltered. “Look, man, we got other plans—”
“Plans?” I interrupted, stepping closer, making sure he felt every bit of my towering presence. “Your plans just changed. You’re showing up, and you’re donating. Understand?”
He gulped, nodding quickly. “Yeah, okay. We’ll be there.”
“That’s what I thought,” I said, turning on my heel and heading out the door. One down, a few more to go.
As I made my rounds, each conversation went similarly. Some tried to protest, but one look at my pissed-off face shut them up real quick. By the time I finished, every riding club in the surrounding area knew they’d better be at that run, or they’d have me and the Slayers to deal with. And trust me, nobody wanted that.
Back at the clubhouse, it was time to rally the Slayers. Our weekly meeting, or church, as we called it, was in full swing. Riptide was talking about our upcoming run, illegal shit, but I had something else on my mind.
When Riptide finished, I stood up. “Alright, listen up, you sorry bastards. We’ve got a charity run coming up, and I expect every single one of you to be there.”
The room fell silent.
“We?” Bull, our VP, raised an eyebrow. “Boiler, why the hell should we ride for the Heelz?”
“Because it’s the right thing to do,” I snapped. “And because we need to honor the truce. We’re not just riding for them. We’re riding for a good cause. Breast cancer, remember? Y’all have women in your lives.”
A few of the guys grumbled, and Bull smirked. “You’re just the latest to fall into the Heelz trap. It’s a honey trap, and you’re all tangled up in that pussy juice.”
Laughter erupted around the room, but I wasn’t having any of it. “Shut the fuck up, all of you. This isn’t about me or Tank. It’s about showing respect and doing the right thing. We’re Slayers, goddammit. We’re better than this. We honor our alliances and you shits are embarrassing Riptide.”
The laughter died down, and the guys exchanged glances. They knew I was serious, and slowly, they nodded in agreement. The truce might be fragile, but it was holding, and I was determined to keep it that way.
A couple of days passed, and I found myself at the Roost again, this time spotting Brat with Riptide. They were deep in conversation, but when Brat saw me, she smiled and nudged my prez. He nodded and walked away, leaving us alone.
“Boiler,” Brat greeted me warmly. “What can I do for you?”
“Need some info,” I said, trying to sound casual. “About Tank.”
Brat’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she didn’t seem angry. “What about her?”
“I want to know what makes her tick. She’s got these walls up, and I need to know how to break them down.”
Brat sighed, leaning against the bar. “Tank’s been through a lot. She’s used to acting tough, pushing people away. It’s how she protects herself.”
“I figured as much,” I said, frustration bubbling up inside me. “But there’s more to her. I saw it.”
Brat nodded. “There is. However, it won't be a walk in the park. She’s been hurt, and she’s not used to people sticking around. You’re going to have to be persistent.”
“I can be persistent,” I said, my jaw set. “I just need to know how to get through to her.”
“She needs someone who loves her for who she is, not despite who she is,” Brat explained. “She can be a bitch, sure, but she’s got a big heart. You’ve just got to show her that you’re not going anywhere.”
I nodded, taking her words to heart. “Thanks, Brat. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t hurt her, Boiler,” Brat warned, her eyes serious. “She’s tougher than she looks, but she’s also more fragile than she lets on.”
“I won’t,” I promised. “I’ve been hurt before, too. I know how it feels.”
Brat looked at me for a moment, then nodded. “Good luck, Boiler. You’re going to need it.”
As I walked away, I couldn’t help but think about what Brat had said. Tank was a complicated chick, but I was dead set on showing her I was worth it.
The next few days were a fuckton of preparations for the charity run. I spent every spare moment talking to my brothers, convincing them to ride. Some were more resistant than others, but eventually, they all agreed. Even Bull, who had been the most vocal against it, came around. Too bad I had to offer my blessing for him to take my sister, Lisa, out for him to do so.
I showed up at the auction the night before, but I kept my distance from Tank. I was merely making sure everyone showed up. I spotted Tank across the bar, her eyes scanning the crowd. When she saw me, our gazes locked, and for a moment, everything else faded away. She looked tough as nails, as always, in all leather except over her big tits. However, there was something in her eyes. Gratitude. She recognized I’d come through for her.
On the day of the actual run, the atmosphere was electric. Bikes lined up for miles, their riders ready to hit the road for a good cause. The fierce ladies of The Hell on Heelz were out in full force, their presence striking.
Rage rode their late president, the Banshee’s bike, decked out in all the stuffed animals, beads and trinkets that had been her trademark.
As the ride kicked off, the rumble of engines filled the air, a symphony of power and purpose. We rode for a couple hours, out and back, the open road stretching out before us, a symbol of the path we were forging together.
When we finally returned to the starting point, the accomplishment could be seen on all our glistening faces. We’d done something good, something that mattered. And I hoped it was a step toward convincing Tank of my dedication to our relationship.
After the ride, there was a celebration at the Roost. Drinks flowed, laughter echoed, and for a while, the tensions between our two clubs seemed to melt away. I headed towards Tank, who was standing with her sisters, looking unusually happy.
“Hell of a ride,” I said, handing her a beer.
“Yeah,” she replied, taking it. “It was.”
“See? We can make this work,” I said, my voice earnest. “You and me, Tank. We’re a good team.”
She looked at me for a long moment, her walls wavering. “Maybe,” she said finally. “But it’s not going to be easy.”
“I don’t want easy,” I said, stepping closer. “But it’s simple. I want you.”
Her eyes softened just a touch, but the uncertainty still lingered. “Look, Boiler, I’m not saying I’m sold on this idea. I’ve got my doubts. But... I’m not kicking you out of the Roost tonight.”
It wasn’t a full-blown commitment, but it was something. A step in the right direction. “I’ll take it,” I said, a smile tugging at my lips.
I stayed close to Tank, making sure she knew I was there for her. She didn’t push me away, in fact after we had enough liquor in us, she did quite the opposite.