3. Rogue
“You about done?”
I take my glasses off and scrub my free hand over my face. It’s been a long day of nothing but spreadsheets, and I’m fucking exhausted. My eyes hurt, my head is throbbing, and I’m jonesing for some wind in my face.
“Almost,” I reply to Possum.
He runs Persuasion Ink, the tattoo shop the club owns, and he sucks when it comes to the books. He tries, despite me asking him on numerous occasions not to.
“Are they that bad?” he asks, stepping closer to the desk.
I groan. “Bro, I have the spreadsheet all set up to auto-calculate everything. How the hell do you still manage to fuck them up?”
“Don’t know.” Possum shrugs and smirks. “Talented like that, I guess.”
“For the love of all that’s unholy, please stop trying to help me,” I snap.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” He backtracks toward the door. “I’m done for the day. You good if I head out?”
“I’ve got a key,” I remind him. “I’ll lock up.”
He grins, and I know that look. “Thanks, man.”
Before I can ask him the name of the chick he’s about to meet up with, he’s gone.
An hour later, I’m finally able to leave. I lock up the shop and head outside to my Harley. I should go to Purgatory and check in on things there, but I’m sure Waylon has it covered.
I throw my leg over the bike and fire up the engine. It’s not long before I’m on the open road, finally able to breathe after such a mentally exhausting day. The accounting I do for Saints Purgatory is a walk in the park compared to what I did in my previous life, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t come with its problems.
Well-meaning brothers like Possum, for instance.
It’s not often I think about my career before receiving a text from my cousin, Grim, and when I do, I’m transported back in time.
“Do you need to get that?”
I inhale as I smile apologetically at Thomas Vanguard, the founder, CEO, and lead accountant at Vanguard Financial Group. Opening the top drawer of my desk, I reach in and flip the button to silence my cell. Notification after notification keeps pinging, interrupting this meeting.
“No, sorry,” I say. “Won’t happen again.”
“See that it doesn’t.” Thomas straightens in his chair. “Caleb, you could have a bright future here at Vanguard Financial. You’re one of the best accountants I’ve had the pleasure of working with. But lately…”
Even though his words trail off, I remain silent. The last time I tried to speak when I thought he was done talking, he bit my head off.
Thomas takes a deep breath. “Lately, it seems your focus is elsewhere.”
He’s right, of course. My focus is on the motorcycle I recently purchased. I’d much rather be out riding that than in a stuffy office thinking about numbers all damn day.
But I need my job. The gas and electric company insist I keep paying these things called bills.
Assholes.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate what I do for a living. It’s good money, and I’ve always had a head for math. But it’s the same, day in and day out, and I’m bored. Which is why my cousin’s offer couldn’t have come at a better time.
When he texted me last week about the motorcycle club he started with his best friends, I had so many questions. My first instinct was to call and demand answers, but John’s deaf so that wouldn’t work. Texting is fine, but he must be pretty busy because he doesn’t always respond right away.
“Caleb?”
I shake my head and focus on Thomas. “Yes?”
“Is everything okay? You seem more distracted today than you have recently.”
Standing from my chair, I shuffle papers into a pile. “I need to go home, Thomas. I, uh… family emergency.”
He stands and stares at me with skepticism in his eyes. “Family emergency?”
Suddenly struck with a giant dose of ‘my give a damn’s busted’, I don’t respond as I grab my cell from my desk drawer and walk out of the office. Thomas shouts at me to come back, but I ignore him.
Is this the smartest professional decision? Fuck no. But I couldn’t sit in that room a second longer.
Just as I reach the parking garage across the street, my phone powers back on, and notifications start coming through, one after the other. Once I get to my bike, I glance at the screen.
John: Have u given my offer any thought?
John: Caleb??
John: If ur not in just tell me
The tone of the texts shifts from wanting an answer to desperation.
John: Hope ur in bc I need u
John: Answer me dammit!!!! Need you now
John: Make ur excuses and get outta there!
John: I’ll be at ur condo… get there ASAP
My condo? I didn’t even know John was in town. I mean, he told me he travels all over the place, but I never expected to see him in Pittsburgh.
Me: You’re in town?
John: Bout time. Where r u?
Me: I’ve got a job ya know
John: Me 2. Get home
Me: On my way
I shove my phone into my suit jacket pocket and throw my leg over my bike. Twenty minutes later, I’m pulling into my driveway and parking. There are no vehicles or motorcycles in sight, and a surge of frustration rises to the surface that John couldn’t wait a little longer for me to get home.
Before I can give it too much thought, my front door opens, and John raises his hands as he steps outside.
“Hurry up, Caleb.”
I shove my keys into my pocket. “How’d you get inside?” I sign.
John and I didn’t grow up together, but our mothers are sisters, and we visited every summer. I picked up sign language pretty quickly.
He arches a brow. “Does it matter?”
Shaking my head, I hurry toward the door if for no other reason than to wipe the impatient look off his face. I follow him inside and freeze in my tracks.
Standing in the middle of my living room are two men with cuts identical to John’s, and in between them is a familiar face… Well, beneath the blood and swelling, it’d be familiar.
I whirl on my cousin. “What have you done?”
“Stan’s been stealing from your firm,” he informs me, referring to the junior accountant. “And he’s trying to pin it on you.”
A car blows by me, the horn blaring. I slow my Harley and pull to the side of the road. I’m about a mile from the clubhouse, and the only thing about the ride that I remember is that I was lost in thought.
I love being a brother in Saints Purgatory MC. There’s never been a single second where I regret the decisions I made the day Stan was killed in my condo. No regrets and every confidence that I’d do the same thing now.
Sinners must be purged, and I will always be glad to be on the right side of sin.