Chapter 30 Silver
SILVER
“So. Kid on the way?”
Mace sneaks me a glance from the driver’s seat, his jaw twitching and hand tightening on the wheel for a second before he returns his gaze to the road.
I chuckle at his non-answer answer, settling back in my seat. “Your poker face needs some work.”
“How long have you known?”
“Suspected for a while,” I admit. “Especially with how Sydney’s been turning down drinks lately.
That woman loves her whiskey sours—it’s not like her to pass one up.
But I knew for sure yesterday after the brawl.
Sydney rushed off to the ladies’ restroom saying she was gonna be sick.
I’ve never known her to be the squeamish type, which means… ”
Mace exhales slowly through his nose. “She’s four months along. Not really showing yet—it’s winter and she’s been hiding under sweaters—but yeah.” A ghost of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “We’re expecting.”
“Congratulations. You’re gonna be a great father, Mace.”
He’s quiet for a moment, his eyes fixed on the gray strip of road stretching ahead of us. It’s clearly been on his mind the way my relationship with Solana has been on mine; he’s thinking over what a change this is and what it means for the future.
“I’m not the nervous type,” he says finally. “But I’ll admit... I’m a little nervous about this. Even just three years ago, I never imagined I’d be here. Never saw myself getting married, let alone having kids. But now that I’m with Sydney… I don’t regret any of it. Not one second.”
I nod along. “That doesn’t surprise me.”
“Is that how you felt?” he asks, glancing over at me. “When you were my age, getting married and becoming a father for the first time?”
“There’s a difference between me and Rachel and you and Sydney,” I say slowly. “Me and Rachel... we were younger. More idealistic. We’d never suffered or been through anything difficult together. We were almost kids ourselves. Barely adults playing at grown-up life.”
I look out the window at the winter-bare trees blurring past. “But you and Sydney? You’ve lived. You’ve got experience. You’ve walked into this with your eyes wide open, knowing exactly what you’re signing up for. Everybody’s nervous to become a parent. But the two of you? You’ll be just fine.”
Mace nods, absorbing my words.
“Besides,” I add with a slight grin after a couple seconds, “you’ll be giving Chloe a playmate. Her own cousin to grow up alongside.”
“Yeah, me and Syd were talking about that.” He grins too as if even the mere idea brings him contentment. “Wait ’til Logan hears about it. We haven’t told him or Teysha yet.”
“They’ll get a kick outta it when you do. Don’t worry, your secret’s safe with me so long as you and Syd are keeping it close to the vest.”
“Thanks, Silver. That means a lot.”
We drive the rest of the way in contemplative silence.
Eventually, the Pulsboro Ravine comes up before us as we crest the final hill and then the land drops away into a rocky gorge.
It’s a place not often visited by folks in town, the only other place near it being the trailer park on the other side.
Winter has made the gray stone and scraggly brush look even duller as wind blows harder the later in the morning it becomes.
All things that make it the perfect spot for a meeting you don’t want witnesses to.
Tom’s already here, standing near the edge of the ravine with Logan beside him. He’s got his arms crossed, his posture casual, like he’s got nothing to worry about. Though his icy eyes say otherwise, a flicker of calculation in them.
Logan stands a few feet off from him, his expression ambiguous and body language as tense as the meeting calls for. One look at him, and it’s obvious he hardly trusts his father any more than Mace does. He’s simply a little more diplomatic about it as the older son.
Mace parks the truck and we climb out. The cold hits me immediately, but I barely feel it. All my focus is on Tom.
We walk over, boots crunching on the rocky ground. I don’t bother hiding my suspicion—what’s the point?
Tom knows where we stand. He knows what he’s done.
Our friendship and brotherhood are long over. But maybe if we’re lucky, we can walk out of this with no more bloodshed.
Logan steps forward as we approach and says, “He came alone and unarmed. I checked him for weapons.”
“I didn’t agree to Mace being here!” Tom shouts from where he stands.
“It doesn’t matter,” I call back, not breaking stride. “He’s here now.”
We stop a few feet from them, the four of us forming a loose square. The wind whips between us, carrying the smell of pine and dankness from the water.
“Alright, let’s get this over with,” I say. “Pretty sure none of us have got all day. Speak your peace so we can get the club dynamics figured out.”
Tom cracks the same mocking, shit-eating grin he’s been wearing since he got back from prison. It’s as if everything’s a joke and he’s the only one who gets the punchline.
“You know what, Jack?” He tilts his head, studying me.
“Maybe you should’ve been president all along.
I always thought you had it in you. You were always so damn diplomatic, even when we were younger.
I was the hothead. The one always going off the rails.
I’m surprised Skull didn’t name you as his successor. ”
I pause, considering whether to burst his bubble. It would be something I’ve never told him. I’ve carried it for decades, keeping it locked away because I knew how much it would hurt him. How much it would change things.
But fuck it. We’re laying everything bare on the table today. Might as well go all the way.
“That’s because I told him to pick you.”
Tom’s grin freezes on his face, the rest of him going still too.
“For you to be nominated,” I continue. “Not me.”
The grin becomes a rictus, unnatural and stuck as his right eye twitches. It’s like he can’t process what I’ve just said.
I sigh. “I never told you because I knew how much you wanted to be president. It had always been your dream. As your best friend, I wanted to help you achieve that.”
The silence stretches between us, going on for seconds as nobody else says a word. Mace and Logan hover on the sidelines as observers while I await Tom’s reaction. He’s remained frozen and unresponsive like he’s either stuck in time or unable to process what I’ve revealed.
Finally, he blinks and then drawls, “Let me get this straight. I became president ’cuz you handed it over to me. Is that what you’re saying?”
“Does it really matter at this point?” I ask, shaking my head. “That’s exactly why I never told—”
“No!” he interrupts. “Don’t go doing me any favors! I don’t need your pity. Didn’t need it then and don’t need it now, Jack.”
Mace tenses on my left. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice him and Logan exchanging glances—both of them silent but coiled tight, picking up on just how precarious this meeting has become.
Tom lets out a bitter laugh. “But you know what? That makes a whole lotta sense. Explains a lot, actually. But here’s the thing. It doesn’t matter how I became president. All that matters is that I am. The Steel Kings is my club, and you’re not gonna take it from me. Not even over my dead body.”
“Why do you even want the club if you’ve been trying to destroy it?” I challenge.
“You don’t get it, do you, Jack? I haven’t been trying to destroy the club. I’ve been trying to destroy you.”
Mace finally snaps, stepping forward with his usual aggressive energy.
“You staged the chaos to make Silver look like a terrible leader. But you don’t even realize it hasn’t worked.
Only a handful of guys have taken your side.
The rest of us? We’re more behind Silver than ever.
The only guys backing you are either money-hungry fools who’ve bought your lies or men with a vendetta against Silver for his relationship with Solana. ”
“Shut up, boy!” Tom barks, wheeling on his son. “That’s your problem—you ain’t never know how to shut that trap of yours!”
“Calm the hell down,” Logan commands. He’s stepped between them, his hand raised in warning. “Or these talks are worthless. The subject is the future of the club. Nothing else.”
I draw a breath, forcing myself to stay calm. To be the diplomat Tom always said I was.
“Let’s get back to the matter at hand,” I say. “You and the guys who’ve sided with you are free to leave the Kings and form your own club. I’ll offer you a share of profits to get you started, and we can talk territory lines within town.”
Tom stares at me for half a second before cackling again. “After all I’ve done, you’re seriously about to do this? Offer me cash to go off and start my own club? Carve up territory like we’re dividing up a pizza?”
“If that’s what it takes for nobody to die. Otherwise, my only option is to kill you.”
The laughter dies in his throat. He eyes me as if I’ve suddenly become a venomous snake about to strike.
“And believe me, Tom.” I take a step closer, lowering my voice as I hold his gaze.
“If it comes down to it—if you force my hand—I will kill you. So take the fucking cash and chunk of territory and walk away. Go start over with your group of men and no more blood has to be shed. The Kings’ beef with the Rebels is separate from this.
You won’t even need to involve yourself. ”
Silence falls over the ravine.
Only the wind howls through the gorge below us, mournful and cold. Tom’s jaw works, his eyes flickering with more calculation as he mulls over what I’ve said.
He scratches at his patchy, unkempt beard, then starts pacing and muttering to himself. I watch him in patient silence, allowing him work through it.
When he does stop and turns to face me, the mocking cruelty has mostly faded. Tempered by his sense of greed and self-preservation.
“You won’t hold working with Wheels against me?” he asks.
“So long as you stay out of it from here on out, consider it a truce.” I extend my hand. “You mind your business and stay on your side, and I’ll do the same. Sound good?”
He looks at my hand for a long moment. Then he takes it, his grip calloused and familiar.
We shake, the solid and firm handshake between two men who used to be brothers. Who might never be brothers again, but who’ve at least found a way to stop being enemies.
“Never saw it ending up like this,” he admits, releasing my hand. He chuckles, but there’s no real humor in it. “Wheels might be a little pissed I’ve gone against what we agreed. But maybe you’re right, Jack. Maybe this is what’s best for us all.”
Logan nods. “It’s agreed, then. You go your separate ways and end this conflict.”
“We won’t be going for drinks anytime soon,” Tom says. “But at least we’re all alive.”
Mace and I return to the truck. Behind us, I hear Tom’s bike rumble to life, followed by Logan’s. The four of us roll out—Mace and I in the truck, following behind Logan and Tom on their bikes.
We’ve let Tom leave first, keeping him within our line of sight for the travel.
“That went better than I expected,” Mace says, glancing over at me. “Way better.”
But I don’t answer. I’m too busy staring out the windshield, watching Tom’s bike as he coasts farther ahead of us and Logan.
The back of my neck prickles as my senses remain on alert and my gaze scans the trees flanking both sides of the road.
I’m braced for it seconds before it happens. Exactly what I anticipated going down.
There’s a flash of movement in the tree line. A projectile object arcs through the air—small, dark, spinning end over end.
“WATCH UP AHEAD!”
The grenade hits the road directly in front of Tom’s bike, immediately setting it aflame.