CHAPTER 19 #3
I join him and lean against the wall, getting a good view of the picture.
The image is grainy, yellowed with age. My throat constricts as I swallow down the emotions rising at the picture of my dad, a time when he was healthy, whole, and from the looks of it, happy.
Before he came back from war to a woman who didn’t love him, before he saw the hell I’d lived through while he’d been serving, and before his disease stole so many days from us after that.
Cap studies the photo, a smile kicking up the side of his mouth. “These fuckers.”
I laugh along with him.
“Some of the best men I’ve known. You’re dad, one of the best of them.”
I’ve heard it before, but I don’t mind hearing it again.
He could say it a thousand times, and I’d listen with rapt attention.
Because you never get sick of hearing about the loved ones you lost. Maybe it’s because you feel like you only truly lose them when you no longer speak their name and reminisce about the ways they impacted your life.
But damn, does it bring back a flood of memories of my childhood with the man I thought hung the moon in spades.
Memories that aren’t riddled with potholes, and are crystal clear and easy to recall, like it all happened yesterday.
“Ha! Listen to me. Such a sad sap. But fuck I miss them. Pappy, too, though, I know a lot of you don’t like to hear it.”
“Not many know him like you do.”
“Nah, and he’d prefer it that way, to tell ya the truth of it. The mask he wears was crafted out of necessity.”
“How’s that?”
“Being a scrawny immigrant kid from Ireland back then was no small feat. His daddy and his brothers were fighting to claim territory, and put food on the table, put a lot of heat on him and his brother, Griz, too. Surviving took everything they had and then some.”
“And underneath it?”
“There’s a good man. Loyal as the day is long. Someone you’d want standing next to you when you’re facing down your worst end. Not only because they’d give the enemy a hell of a fight, but you know they’d step in front of you when a bullet with your name engraved on it came callin’.”
“It’s like that, huh?”
He nods and turns, his steely blue-gray eyes meet my gaze and hold firm. “It’s like that.”
“Your word is enough for me.”
Closer now, he grips my shoulder, like my father was known to do. “Appreciate that. Now, if I could only get the rest of them”—he tilts his head toward the closed door— “to see it my way.
“They will. Probably not Taz, but definitely most.” We both laugh at that.
“Hope so.”
“So, you for the GBs comin’? Or you just don’t see a way around it?” I ask.
“Definitely the second one. On the first, it depends on who’s runnin’ the ship here.
Pappy will stay in Cali with Vaughn. I trust him, but I also know the loose boundaries he has, and all the ways he’s willing to make green.
He overvalues money, in my opinion. Always has because of his roots.
Takes unnecessary risks to obtain it. It’s the one sticking point we’ve always had.
Nowhere near the top of my totem pole, but for him, it’s second only to them.
Vaughn and Deeds. Some of his methods, I’m okay with…
some, I’m not. We understand each other and respect it.
But who knows who he’ll place to run the chapter here.
A chapter President twice removed and outta his sight, might not run the club how Pappy or I would like.
I’ll have a say, but my input will only go so far, and no doubt they may try to get away with shit under our noses.
Keep it clean for a few years, sure, but after Pappy’s head turns the other way, no one can know what they’ll do.
Highly doubt they’ll follow the outlaw letter of the law the way we do. ”
“So, a shitstorm for another day.”
“Yeah, I expect it will be.”
Exhaling, I grit out, “Well, fuck.”
He grins. “Exactly. Nothin’ we can’t handle.”
“You seem pretty confident about that.”
Crossing his arms over his large chest, he rests against the table, half sitting on the edge.
“I am. In you.” He kicks his head towards the door.
“In most of those knuckleheads out there. We got somethin’ good here and we’re doin’ it for the right reasons.
We believe in somethin’ better than ourselves.
At the end of the day, the other clubs and gangs fightin’ for turf and money will lose because they’re not willing to give their lives for what they’re fightin’ for.
They got no heart behind their beliefs. We’re different.
And they’re gonna figure that out eventually.
Just a little too late to do anything about it. Mark my words.”
I nod, but I get lost in thought. I start tapping my fingers against my pocket, touching the coin there.
I remember the day this path here opened up for me.
A pack of Harleys came barreling down the street.
One of the bike’s engines roared louder as the front runner pulled a U-turn and circled back.
I’d been working on renovations on the duplex I purchased when the big fella with long, grizzly gray-blonde hair, dark sunglasses, and a leather jacket with club colors pulled up and parked in my motherfucking driveway.
I’d lost weight and muscle in the hospital and rehab.
I’d been drenched in sweat from the heat and feeling weak and lethargic, struggling with life in general.
At first, I didn’t know what the fuck was going on.
I figured I was about to have a throwdown with a gang member for doing nothing more than existing or giving him the eyeball.
And yeah, maybe I had since I hadn’t liked what I saw of Albuquerque since returning.
And this was another thing on that list of fucked-up shit I’d have to deal with.
The large biker dismounted and met me at the edge of the driveway.
By then, his boys had turned to follow him and were closing in on us.
I didn’t think there was any chance of taking them on and winning, but then this big dude eyed me up and down and said, “Shit, you’re still the spittin’ image of your old man.
Changed a bit since his funeral. For a minute there, I thought I was seein’ a ghost. How you been, son? ”
It was then that it clicked—who he was. His hair was long and unruly, and the beard also threw me off, but my mind finally connected the dots.
“Cap?” I met his strong handshake with one of my own.
“Yeah, you remember?” He smiled a big-ass smile and waved his group over to us as we got to catching up.
Before he left that day, he invited me to come check out the club.
No commitment, just a beer and a good time.
I’d been in a dark place during those days.
Popping pills to cope with the migraines, because they numbed it all, the pain, the loneliness, the grief.
I had shit all going for me at the time…
a girl I couldn’t find, memories I couldn’t hold on to, a father buried and gone, and an abusive mother I hadn’t seen since I was a child.
The rope Cap presented pulled me out of my head and gave me a way to do something good with the extra time I’d been given.
A reason to wake up the next day and care about the day after that.
I’d nearly died. Nearly. But I didn’t, and it had to be for a reason.
Being around other vets had been good for me.
There was an easy kinship there because, even though most had gone to war and returned in one piece, many of them understood what I was going through and had issues of their own.
It didn’t take me long to join. Getting off the opioids had been challenging, but they helped me kick them.
Prospecting had been a pain in the ass, downright humiliating at times, and yet I understood the importance of the initiating ritual.
How it breaks down the ego and weeds out the men who wouldn’t be able to hack it in the long run, while humbling a man at the same time.
I come back to myself when Cap slaps his hand on my bicep to get my attention.
“You keep savin’ who you can save. The club has your back if you need us.
You don’t have to do it alone unless you want to.
Remember that.” He gives it one last squeeze on my arm before he guides me out of church, and we join the rest of the boys at the bar in the main room.
I try to remind myself of Cap’s words for many days to come—that I don’t have to go through what I’m going through alone.