Chapter 12
Twelve
Light
Nothing like club business to bring my mind back to the present.
My bike engine roars beneath me, vibrating through my bones, loud enough to drown out every damn thought in my head.
The highway stretches ahead, long and endless, disappearing into the pink smear of a dying sunset.
It is the kind of open road that makes you feel like you could ride forever and never look back.
The Brutal Chains are riding tight today.
Two long lines of patched brothers eating up the miles, their cuts catching the light like battered flags of loyalty and blood.
Brick leads the way, his massive frame hunched forward, one hand casually resting on the handlebar, the other dangling loose like he owns the road.
Hook is a few bikes ahead of me, flipping off a passing truck for honking. Torch rides beside him, laughing at the display.
Pipe rides next to me, the steady rumble of his bike comforting in its familiarity.
Finally, bringing up the rear is Semi and Vinny.
Every patched member is here. Brick made it mandatory. The annual State Line Rally is tradition.
Old alliances, old stories, and more booze and bad decisions than anyone could count.
Normally, I would be itching to get there, itching to get wasted and lose myself in the noise.
Today, the only itch I have is a deep, gnawing ache under my skin.
Melissa and Tyler.
It is the first night in two weeks I will not see them.
First night I will not hear Tyler's laugh or see the way Melissa's whole face lights up when she smiles, even when she tries to hide it.
Distance is good.
I need it.I am starting to feel things I have no damn business feeling.
She deserves better.
She deserves more.
The miles blur together.
We take back roads, winding through thick woods and past wide-open fields that smell like fresh rain and earth.
We slice through tiny towns with crooked gas stations and rusted-out barns, past battered highway signs full of bullet holes.
The farther we ride, the lighter I feel.
The wind tears at my cut and pulls the tension straight out of my body, peeling it away piece by piece.
On the bike, there are no past mistakes.
No worries about what could or should happen.
Just the road, the throttle, and the sound of freedom howling in my ears.
By the time we roll up on the rally grounds, the sun has disappeared completely, leaving the world bathed in the soft glow of fire pits and headlights.
The lot is packed with bikes from friendly clubs.
The Devil's Sons out of Crestfield.
The Iron Nomads from the next county over.
The Rabid Hounds, rough and loud but loyal.
Old friends slap each other on the back, trading half-insults and full laughs.
Coolers are popped open.Piles of meat smoke over open flames.
The air is thick with the smell of grease, leather, and burning wood.
Someone tosses a beer my way.
I catch it without thinking and crack it open, foam spilling over my knuckles.
Hook already has two beers in his hands, shouting something crude at Brick, who just laughs and flips him off without looking.
It is good.It is home.
But even in the middle of all the noise, the brotherhood, the firelight, my mind drifts.
I reach for my phone once before I stop myself and shove it back in my pocket.
I reach again twenty minutes later when the thought sneaks in that maybe Tyler is not feeling good, maybe Melissa needed help with something.
I curse under my breath, forcing myself to grab another beer instead and smile like everything is fine.
She is fine.They are both fine.
I tell myself that over and over, like if I say it enough times it will drown out the quiet fear twisting inside me.
I am Light.
I do not get attached.
I do not get whipped.
I do not start giving a shit about women I have no right to even touch.
And yet, no matter how many miles I put between us tonight,
Melissa and Tyler still feel closer to me than anyone else in this place.
And that thought scares the hell out of me more than any fight or prison sentence ever could.
I'm already downing my third beer when Brick slowly walks over to where I'm sitting at one of the picnic style benches that line the area.
"You good, Brother?" He asks as he slides into the seat opposite me.
"Yeah, just taking it all in. Betting on Torch finding something humiliating for our prospect to do." I laugh and take another swig of the beer.
Brick just tilts his head. He doesn't join me in the false laughter.
"Boy, I know you too well for that bullshit to work on me. Something is up. Both you and Semi are on different worlds tonight."
My eyes drift over to where Semi is standing. He's got a beer in his hand, but he's alone, just how I was seconds ago. I guess he must still be thinking about Claire.
"It's nothing I can't handle." I look back to Brick.
"Bullshit. You don't need to handle shit on your own. That's what the club is for. We do it all together. We're family, Light. I don't want you to forget that."
"I haven't. It's just not anything...I got it." I end.
"You sure?"
I nod hoping that it'll be enough for my president to drop it. It's not.
"So, how's that sweet little thing you've been seeing every night doing? She missing you already?" He smirks, and my mouth drops open. I knew the guys knew I'd seen Melissa a few times, but I had no idea that they knew I was going over there every night.
"I don't know. I haven't spoken to her today."
"Come on, you know better than that. Call her, let her know you're thinking about her."
"She's not my woman. I don't need to tell her I'm thinking about her.
" I bristle before straightening up a bit.
I'm not used to hearing Brick talk like this.
Ever since he got with Luna, it's like she's dulled his edge.
I have no doubt he's still the same beast he was, but that side of him only comes out when needed.
"You're a dumb motherfucker. None of us have ever seen you cater to a woman like you cater to Melissa.
You've never raced out to just go sit on someone's couch.
This woman has you wrapped around her finger and there's nothing you can do to stop it.
Denying it is only going to hurt the both of you.
Be smart. Get the fuck over yourself." He knocks his knuckles on the table before standing up and walking away.
I didn't even have the chance to argue. Not that I can. He's right. I'm in deep.
***
The rally was good. Most of us wound up spending the night at some flea bag motel before we got on the road the next day.
Of course, thanks to the excessive drinking the club did last night, none of us were able to ride until well into nighttime.
To make matters worse, the weather had taken a turn.
When we set out to come home the winds had really begun to blow and by the time the compound was in the distance the rain had begun to fall.
All of BCMC are experienced riders. We took our time just to make sure no one wiped out, but we didn't make it inside until well past midnight.
It's two days now. Two days I haven't been able to see Melissa and Tyler. I'm not going to show up now in the middle of the night. I can wait.
Before I can even get to my room, I see Bea and Luna rush out of the back and beeline straight for Hook and Brick. They embrace like they've been apart for years. Both couple whispering and kissing each other. The love is strong.
So strong it pisses me off.
It takes a second for me to realize that I'm envious. I don't want what they have. Right?
I shake my head, cursing under my breath, before I turn and walk out of the compound.
The rain is coming down in sheets now. It feels good against my heated skin. I walk through the courtyard and into the backdoor of my shop. I don't think I'm going to be able to get any sleep right now, the least I can do is get some paperwork done.
I've had a few large clients in need of electrical work. Payments have already been made, and I need to set up for an equipment delivery for another one.
The rain pounds the roof like a thousand angry fists as I settle in behind my desk.
I click on the computer, trying to focus on the invoices in front of me, but the numbers swim in my vision.
My mind keeps drifting back to Melissa.
To the way my gut twists every time I picture them without me there.
The loud, frantic pounding at the front door rips me out of my haze.
I push up from my chair so fast it screeches against the floor.
It is almost two in the morning. No one should be here.
My boots thud heavy against the floor as I move toward the door.
For a second, I hesitate.
Then I yank it open.
Melissa stands there, soaked to the skin, her hair plastered to her face, her arms wrapped tight around her body.
Her eyes are wide and glassy, like she is not even seeing me, like she is barely holding it together.
My heart punches hard against my ribs.
"Jesus, Melissa," I mutter, yanking her inside without a second thought.
She stumbles a little, water pooling at her feet.
"I am sorry," she stammers. "I do not even know why I came. I should not be here. I just..."
"Hey," I cut her off, my voice softer than I have ever heard it come out. "It is okay. You are okay."
She keeps apologizing under her breath as I guide her toward the back room.
Every step she takes leaves little wet footprints behind her, like a trail of all the weight she is carrying.
As soon as we step into the bedroom, memories slam into me.
The last time we were back here. Who would have thought my over confidence would lead to this.
I grab a clean towel off a shelf and step closer to her.
She shivers as I start drying her off, carefully.
The towel glides over her arms, her back, the soaked fabric of her shirt.
Up close, I can see it clearer.
The dark circles under her eyes.
The hollow, exhausted set of her mouth.
The way her hands tremble even as she tries to hold them still.
I drop the towel over her shoulders and frame her face with my hands, forcing her to look at me.