Chapter Eight #2
As the brothers grab beers and settle around the communal tables for what appears to be an early dinner, I find myself naturally drawn into their circle.
The invitation isn’t spoken. Ghost simply pulls out a chair next to him and nods toward it, while Bear slides a plate of what looks like Millie’s homemade lasagna in front of the empty spot.
“So…” Ghost says, pulling the ever-present toothpick from his mouth and pointing it at me. “What’d you think of yesterday’s field trip? Not exactly what you were expecting from a bunch of criminals, huh?”
I take a bite of the lasagna, it’s incredible, and consider my words carefully. “Honestly? I’m still processing it. Watching Nitro and Ro play classical music like they’ve been doing it professionally for years was a little… confusing.”
“Nitro could’ve been the next James Galway,” Bear interjects with obvious pride. “That’s what his teacher said anyway.”
“James Galway?” I ask.
“Famous flute player,” Ghost explains. “Irish guy. Point is, our VP had real talent. Still does.”
These men continue to surprise me at every turn. Every preconceived notion I had gets shattered daily.
“But he chose family instead,” I say, the understanding of what this club means to each and every one of them really sinking in now.
“Damn right he did,” Ghost replies, and there’s something fierce in his voice. “That’s what we do here. Family first. Always.”
The word ‘family’ hits differently now than it did when I first arrived. I’m starting to understand that for these people, it’s not just a word.
It’s everything.
Koa looks up from where he’s been demolishing a plate of lasagna that’s roughly the size of my head. “Hey Elizabeth, you ever been to Hawaii?”
“No, never had the chance. Why?”
His face lights up like I’ve just asked him about his favorite subject.
“Man, you gotta go sometime. Most beautiful place on earth. The beaches, the mountains, the culture…” He gestures expansively with his fork full of lasagna.
“That’s where my mother taught me the hula.
My grandmother used to tell me stories about the old gods, the way the islands were formed. ”
“That’s why you were teaching Mrs. Patterson yesterday?”
“She asked about it after I mentioned coming from there. Woman’s got more energy than half the guys in this room.” He chuckles. “Plus, she said her granddaughter was doing a report on Hawaiian culture for school. Figured I could help.”
Of course he did.
Because that’s what these people do—they help.
“Koa’s being modest,” Deek pipes up from across the table, wiping his hands on a napkin. “Dude was actually a professional dancer before he joined Defiance in Oahu. Had this whole performance troupe, did shows for tourists and everything.”
“Shut up, Deek,” Koa grumbles, but he’s smiling.
“I’m serious! Tell her about the time you performed for that movie star. What was his name? The guy from those action movies?”
Koa waves him off. “Different life, brother.”
But my focus tunes in to something he said. “You said when Koa joined Oahu Defiance. Does that mean there’s a club in Hawaii and you were there first, Koa?”
He grins at me. “Sure does. They’re way more laid back over there, but I came to the mainland to help Sin with… some club business. So, I transferred over from Oahu for a while. Eventually, I’ll go back home.”
Deek turns to me with that mischievous grin I’m learning to recognize as trouble. “Speaking of different lives, did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally joined a circus?”
I nearly choke on my lasagna. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Oh, here we go,” Ghost mutters, but he’s fighting a smile.
“No, no, this really happened!” Deek insists, leaning forward dramatically.
“I was maybe nineteen, still a prospect. Got separated from the guys during a ride through Arizona. Bike breaks down in the middle of nowhere, right? So, I’m walking down this desert road with my helmet under my arm, looking like a lost leather-clad scarecrow. ”
His storytelling ability is actually impressive. The way he sets the scene completely draws you in.
“This caravan of RVs pulls over,” he continues, gesturing wildly. “Turns out it’s a traveling circus. They see this big, intimidating biker walking alone in the desert and figure I must be some kind of strongman looking for work.”
“You didn’t correct them?” I ask, already invested in the story.
“I tried! But the circus master, this tiny woman with bright purple hair, starts talking so fast I couldn’t get a word in. Next thing I knew, I was in the back of an RV getting fitted for a costume.”
Bear shakes his head. “This is where it gets ridiculous.”
“It was already ridiculous,” I point out.
“Hey! I’m telling this story,” Deek protests. “So anyway, they dress me up as this strongman character. Big fake mustache, one of those old-timey striped outfits. I figured I’d just play along until I could get help with my bike.”
“Please tell me you didn’t actually perform?” I ask, though part of me really hopes he did.
Deek’s grin gets wider. “Three shows. I lifted weights, which, granted, wasn’t hard, and flexed for crowds while this guy in a top hat announced my ‘amazing feats of strength.’ Made forty bucks and got the best cotton candy of my life.”
I want this to be true so badly.
“The best part…” Koa adds, clearly having heard this story before, “… is that when the brothers finally found him, he was helping tear down the big top.”
“They offered me a permanent position,” Deek says proudly. “Said I had ‘natural showmanship.’ ”
“What you had was natural bullshit ability,” Ghost says dryly, but his eyes are warm with affection.
“So, what happened? How’d you get out of circus life?” I ask.
“The circus master figured I wasn’t really a strongman when she caught me using a motorcycle jack to lift the weights backstage. Apparently, real strongmen don’t need hydraulic assistance.”
The table erupts in laughter, and I find myself laughing, too, harder than I have in weeks. There’s something infectious about their camaraderie, the way they tease each other with genuine love underneath.
“That story gets more elaborate every time you tell it,” Bear observes.
“The core elements remain true,” Deek insists with mock dignity. “I stand by my circus career.”
“What about you, Elizabeth?” Koa asks. “Got any weird job stories?”
I think for a moment. “I once spent a summer working at a Renaissance fair as a teen. Had to speak in fake old English for eight hours a day and wear a corset that I’m pretty sure was designed as a medieval torture device.
They had jousting and fake knight fights and even burning witches at the stake, which actually looked so real, I was a little terrified of it, to be honest.”
“Now that’s a circus I’d like to work at,” Deek jokes.
“Renaissance fair, dick head,” Bear groans.
“Same thing!” Deek says triumphantly.
It’s stories like Deek’s that make me realize what a boring life I have lived.
None of my stories involves accidentally joining a circus while on the run from…
what exactly? What were they running from in Arizona?
The thought reminds me why I’m here, and the warmth I’d been feeling starts to ebb.
These moments of genuine connection make it easy to forget that I’m supposed to be investigating these bikers, not bonding with them over lasagna and ridiculous stories.
“You okay?” Ghost asks, apparently noticing my shift in mood.
“Yeah, just… processing everything. It’s a lot to take in.”
“The club can be overwhelming at first. But you seem to be fitting in pretty well,” he acknowledges.
Too well.
That’s the problem.
“Where is Sin tonight?” I ask, trying to sound casual.
The table goes slightly quiet, and I catch the meaningful look that passes between Ghost and Bear.
“He had business to handle,” Nitro says, finally returning from whatever he’d been doing in the back. “He’ll be around later.”
Business.
Always business.
And always conveniently when I’m here.
“He’s avoiding me,” I say, surprising myself with my directness.
Another round of looks between the brothers.
“Sin’s… complicated,” Bear says carefully.
“So I’m learning.”
Deek, apparently unable to stand the sudden seriousness, clears his throat dramatically. “Speaking of complicated, did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally got married to a llama in Vegas?”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake, Deek.” Ghost groans.
“What? It’s relevant… sort of!”
And just like that, the mood lightens again as Deek launches into what I’m sure is another completely fabricated but wildly entertaining story. But even as I laugh and ask questions and play along, part of my mind is stuck on Sin.
He’s actively avoiding me, and everyone knows it.
The question is why.
But Sin’s empty chair at the head of the table feels conspicuous, and I can’t shake the feeling that his absence is deliberate.
Eventually, the guys disperse, leaving me with the girls to continue with our packaging of gifts and preparations. “So…” I say to Ro during a lull in the conversation. “Tell me about this New Year’s party you’re planning.”
Her face lights up immediately. “Oh, it’s going to be amazing. Chrome and midnight theme. Very glamorous, very sexy. We’re transforming this place into something out of a fairy tale.”
“Chrome and midnight?” I ask.
“Think sparkling silver decorations, black and silver balloons, metallic everything,” Jessa explains excitedly. “We’re having a DJ, full bar, dancing. Everyone dresses to the theme.”
“It’s the one night a year we really let loose,” Millie adds. “No club business, no drama, just pure celebration.”
“And masks,” Ro adds with a grin. “Everyone wears masks. Adds to the mystery and glamour.”
The idea sounds incredible, and despite everything, I find myself genuinely excited. “When do you need help with the preparations?”
“Are you offering?” Gia asks hopefully.
“I am. I mean, I’ll be here anyway for the story. Might as well pitch in.”
The women exchange delighted looks, and I realize I’ve just committed myself even further to this world I’m supposed to be investigating objectively.
As the evening winds down and the brothers begin to disperse, I help clean up the wrapping station. The gifts are neatly stacked and ready for distribution, a colorful reminder of the generosity and heart these supposedly dangerous people possess.
“Elizabeth…” Millie chimes as we’re finishing up. “Thank you. For the advice about Will, I mean. I think I’m going to talk to him tomorrow.”
“Good for you,” I reply, meaning it. “You deserve to know where you stand.”
“So do you,” she says meaningfully, glancing toward the still-empty chair where Sin should be sitting. I don’t have an answer for that, so I just smile and gather my things.
As I head for the exit, I’m struck by how much lighter I feel despite the emotional weight of what I learned about Sin’s past. These people, this place—it’s becoming harder and harder to reconcile with the narrative I came here believing.
But as I walk to my car under the Nevada stars, I can’t shake the feeling that Sin is watching me from somewhere in the shadows.
The thought should unnerve me, but instead, it sends a shiver of anticipation down my spine.
Tomorrow.
Tomorrow I’ll figure out what this all means.
Tonight, I just want to hold onto this feeling of belonging, even if it’s built on lies I’m not ready to confront.