Epilogue Two #2
Blake shrugs, but his jaw ticks. “I’m not saying all clubs are bad. But once you go one percent, you don’t just ride. You owe. You take sides. You start bleeding for colors instead of people. And half the time, you don’t even see it’s happening until it’s too late.”
There’s a heaviness in the air now, something unspoken pulling at all of us.
I nod slowly, uncertain. “I get what you’re saying. But I want something real. Brotherhood. Loyalty. No politics. Just people I trust, protecting what’s ours.”
Blake studies me. “Then make damn sure everyone you let in wants the same thing. Or you’ll be the one bleeding.”
“How about you? Would you be interested?”
Blake laughs loudly. “Damn, you have some big ass balls, dude. I’ve been propositioned numerous times by clubs, but none of them have ever had the balls to do it here.” He points up to the camera. “We record everything here.”
Shit.
He laughs again. “Don’t worry, brother. You’re still a baby when it comes to this shit.
Forming a club isn’t easy. You need order and structure.
You gotta lay out the rules and what you want to happen.
You can’t just let anyone join. You gotta be strategic and select your members carefully.
You don’t know me from Adam. I could be a crazed serial killer and you wouldn’t even know it. ”
“Funny you should say that,” I reply, chuckling to myself.
“Our club is called the Elm Street Riders MC. All our club names are based on horror monsters and horror legends. I’m gonna go by Drac, and this grumpy motherfucker is going to be called Krampus when we finally get this shit going.
We got a buddy in jail who’s our Voorhees.
Even the clubhouse is going to be built on Elm Street, that’s the block I moved to. ”
“Now that’s a club I can get behind. My bike out there, I call her Phantasma. It’s after those old Phantasm movies.”
“See you’d be perfect! We’d call you Phantom or some shit. We’re still in the planning stages, but I’d love to have a guy like you, a real seasoned rider, join us.”
“I dunno, man,” Blake exclaims, scrubbing at the back of his neck. “I’m kinda against that lifestyle. If I’m going to join a club, I want it to be one that rides for a cause. Not one that rides for mayhem.”
“Oh, we ain’t looking to—”
SLAM.
Blake pales, his entire body going rigid and still, eyes widening in annoyance.
A fucking hot as hell blonde is standing in the doorway, shoe tapping, arms curled around her solid C-cup chest as she angrily stares at Blake behind the counter.
Every head in the room swivels her way, and she seems to be enjoying the attention.
“What the fuck, Eve?”
She smirks, sashaying toward us in a tight little black crop top that shows off the swell of her under boob, skin-tight leggings that accentuate all her damn curves, and nails just long enough to claw your eyes out.
“Thought I couldn’t find ya?” she questions, batting her eyes so that her lashes flutter like angry moths. “Well, I got news for you, motherfucker. You can’t just fucking say we’re done and expect that to be it.”
“Oh, fuck me sideways,” Blake mutters under his breath.
Rich leans toward me. “She’s hot. “
“Smoking,” I agree, both of us leaning against the counter to watch the show. She winks our way, applying a fresh coat of gloss to her lips as she pops them in his direction, stopping just short of him, his posture already standoffish.
“Eve,” he growls. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
“My calls haven’t been going through to your phone.”
“I got your ass blocked.”
She shrugs. “You think you can just ghost me and get away with it?” she questions too calmly. A few of the guys sitting on the chairs to our right, shift uncomfortably.
“I’ve blocked your number twelve times,” Blake snaps. “Maybe take the hint.”
She marches up to him, jabbing a manicured nail into his chest. “You’re mine, Blake. When are you going to get it through that thick skull of yours? No other girl is ever going to satisfy you like I do. I’m one of a kind.”
“The bat-shit crazy kind. The smash my bike with a crowbar and set fire to my leather jacket kind!” he fires back, voice roaring like an open flame. “We’re done, Eve. Finito. Finished. Hasta la Vista, Baby. Hit the road, Jack. And don’t come back for more.”
“You forget. I know where your mom lives,” she says too sweetly, eyes narrowing into condescending slits. “Wonder what she would think if I paid her a little visit?”
“You leave my fucking mother out of this, Eve.”
She admires her nails, looking up at him bored and unaffected. “All I’m saying is that your mother loves me. I’m sure she’d love to hear about your little drinking problem.” She motions with her hand and laughs maniacally.
Part of me wishes Amber fought for me like this, but just thinking about her has my stomach turning and twisting uneasily again, fighting the urge to try her phone for the ninetieth time.
“Try it,” he says, voice low and lethal now. “See what happens.”
She tickles her fingers up his chest. “Oh, Blakey, there’s so many things I’d love to try on you. Things we haven’t gotten to yet.”
He moves her hand, and glares. “Go back to the psych ward you escaped from.”
“Only if you come with me,” she encourages, moving up on her tiptoes like she’s moving in for a kiss.
“You want us to help you escort her out?”
Blake shakes his head. “She knows where the exit is, and if she’s smart, she’ll use it.”
She blinks at him, slowly craning her head just a tad.
“And if I don’t.”
Blake’s smile curls evilly. “Then I’ll get that restraining order going that I haven’t fully filed yet.”
She takes a step back, her smile fading. “You wouldn’t dare.”
“Yeah, I would. Just get the fuck out of here, Eve. I don’t need to lose my job over one of your many outbursts.”
Eve stares at him like she’s not hearing a word. Then she suddenly turns on her heel, stalking toward the door, her shoes echoing like gunshots across the tiled floor. She pauses in the doorway.
“This isn’t over,” she says, voice ice cold. “You’ll see.”
Then she’s gone, the door slamming behind her with an aggressive bang.
A man sitting in the chair whistles loudly. “I bet that one fucks like a madwoman.”
Blake huffs out angrily, hand aggressively combing through his hair until strands appear in his palm. This man sheds more than my mother, and that woman has been experiencing hair loss for the last two years. “You’d be correct, Sir. That one definitely fucks like a madwoman.”
Silence stretches for seconds before we all bust out laughing.
“Sorry about that,” Blake mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “My ex is about as stable as a gas leak.”
“No worries,” I say. “We all got our demons.”
Rich and I exchange another look, but this time his eyes are filled with pity. He knows I’m still fucked up about Amber leaving me the way she did.
He mouths the words, “You good?” and I nod, doing my best to strip that woman from my mind.
Blake claps his hands and smiles. “Alright, let’s get this class going, shall we?”
We spend the next few hours going through our class, learning all the important safety protocols for riding a motorcycle, and fulfilling a portion of the hours we need to get our licenses. One more class after this should do it.
After we’re done, Blake flags us down. “Hey, wait up.”
We stop just short of our bikes.
“What’s up?” I ask.
“That club you’re thinking about putting together.
I can’t shake it. I’ve been thinking about it this whole time.
I love to ride; it’s in my fucking blood.
Riding with others makes it even better.
I know a lot of shit about motorcycles, enough to get us started. If you’ll have me, I’d love to join.”
“Even if we end up outlaws?”
He shrugs. “I feel like I live like an outlaw every day I try to shake off that woman. Eve and I have been off and on since high school, and the bitch just won’t let go. Sadly, I feel like I can’t let go of her either. We’ve just got one of those toxic relationships that’s highly addictive.”
“Yeah, I got one of those too. Mine jilted me at the altar though, about a month or so back.”
“Damn, that fucking sucks.”
“Tell me about it,” I exclaim, suddenly wishing I had a beer in my hand. “She just fucking up and left, and I haven’t heard from her since.”
Rich slaps me on the back. “That’s why we gotta get this club going. Chicks dig a guy on a motorcycle.”
“You think you’ll ever be able to move on?” Blake questions.
My eyes migrate to the sun above me, allowing it to blind me momentarily as I think about the girl who could be halfway across the world staring at the same sky as me.
“Eventually,” I grumble, my voice slightly shaky. “But not for a while. Maybe in five years or so.”
“Five years is an awfully specific time…” Blake counters as I shake off Rich’s knowing look.
Five cards.
Numerous Deaths.
Five long years of torturous pain.
I shrug. “Five years feels like enough. If she comes home before then, then maybe there’s hope for us. But if that five-year mark comes and goes. I’m done. No use hanging onto a relationship where I’m the only one fighting for it.
Rich nods slowly, respect flickers in his eyes before he turns towards me and Blake. “Then let’s build something in the meantime. Something worth fucking fighting for.”
We stand there for a moment in silence. Just three men, all broken in various ways, staring down the road like we’re seeing the future for the first time.
There’s no one left to save us.
So, we’ll save each other.
The Elm Street Riders won’t be a club searching for power, or creating chaos. It’s gonna be a brotherhood. One that stands for something in a world that’s gone numb, building a foundation in the ashes of everything we’ve lost.
A chosen family.
One that rides together one ride at a time.
Maybe one day if Amber ever does come back, she’ll find more than the man she left scarred and broken at the altar.
She’ll find the villain she created.
And this time he won’t be waiting.