Chapter 22
Boiler
The jukebox in the corner of the Lair played some classic rock tune, but I wasn't really listening. My mind was somewhere else, lost in memories I usually tried to bury.
Bull, our VP and my closest brother, sat across from me, sucking on a brew. His eyes were sharp, always watching, always assessing. “You’ve been quiet lately, Boiler. What’s eating at you?”
I shrugged, taking a long pull from my drink. “Just thinking about the past, man. You know how it is.”
Bull leaned back, his gaze never leaving mine. “Yeah, I know. But you’ve been brooding more than usual. Spill it.”
Riptide, our Prez, joined us at the table, his presence commanding as always. He patted my shoulder, giving me that knowing look. “Bull’s right. Something’s eating you. Out with it.”
I breathed out heavily, running my hand through my hair. “It’s just... everything. The truce, the Heelz, Tank. But mostly... it’s the past catching up to me. My time in the Army, the shit I’ve seen, the people I’ve lost. And then there’s Max’s mom.” It was as if worrying about Tank’s absence brought all this other shit to the surface.
Smoke, our resident wildcard, sauntered over with an evil grin. “Boiler’s getting all sentimental. Must be some pussy involved.”
I shot him a glare, but there was no heat in it. “Yeah, there is. But it’s more than that.”
Riptide spoke up, “You guys know he was in the Army before he joined the club. Did two tours in Afghanistan. Saw things that would make you piss your pants, Smoke.”
Bull nodded, his expression somber. “We’ve all got our ghosts, brother. But you’ve carried yours longer than most.”
I took another sip of my drink, the burn of the whiskey grounding me. “It’s not just the war. It’s what happened after. I came back fucked up, couldn’t keep a job, couldn’t keep a relationship. Then I met Sarah, Max’s mom. Thought she was the one. Turns out, she couldn’t handle my shit.” My brothers knew she left us when Max was just a baby. What I didn’t say was I was afraid I ran Tank off too.
Riptide frowned, his grip on my shoulder tightening. “We all know what she did to you, brother. But you’ve been a damn good father to Max. You’re a changed man. That kid has softened you. You’re nothing like the man who earned the name Boiler.”
Bull interjected, “Still a badass though.”
I appreciated the words, but it was hard to shake my past. “I’m trying, Rip. But it’s hard when the woman who abandoned her own kid keeps showing up, asking for money, strung out on who knows what.”
Smoke leaned against the table, his usual smirk replaced by genuine concern. “You’re doing the best you can, man. And you’ve got us. We’re your family.”
“Thanks, guys. It means a lot. And Tank... she’s different. She’s tough as nails, but there’s something about her that makes me want to protect her.”
“That’s love man.” Bull chuckled, raising his beer in a toast. “To Boiler and his badass biker bitch. May you both find some peace in this fucked up world.”
We clanked our bottles together, the camaraderie of my brothers lifting some of my worries.
Riptide leaned in, his eyes serious. “We’ve got your back, Boiler. Whatever happens.”
Smoke's mischief returned as he grinned. “Hell, you and Rip both fucking a Heel... Whatever, we all jerk it to the thought of bending a lady biker over. But love. Those tough bitches?”
Shaking my head, I laughed. “Maybe you’re not man enough, Smoke. Takes a real man to handle a strong woman.”
With each passing hour and drink, I felt more determined. My brothers had my back, and that meant everything.
Smoke pulled out his guitar, strumming a few chords. We usually played together. “Got a song for you, Boiler. How about some ‘Simple Man’? Feels fitting tonight.”
I nodded, appreciating the gesture. As Smoke played, I let the music wash over me, thinking about everything that had brought me to this moment. My past in the Army, the brothers I’d lost, the woman who’d walked away. But also the family I’d found in the Slayers, and the woman who was quickly becoming more than just an enemy.
Eventually, I made a decision. I wasn't going to sit around and wait any longer. I had to find Tank, no matter what it took. I stood up, determination fueling my every move. I was determined to find her, and I wasn't going to give up until I did.
The next morning, I took Max to Lisa for an extended visit, telling her it could be a few days. Then I gathered a few of my brothers and we set out to search for Tank. We combed through the town, checking every place she might have gone. We questioned people, followed leads, but every trail seemed to go cold.
I couldn’t help but think about Sarah and how she had left without a word. The idea of Tank running off made my heart ache. But deep down, I knew Tank was different. She wouldn’t just leave without a reason.
As we searched, I thought about all the moments we had shared. The passion, the fights, the tenderness. I couldn’t lose her. Not now. Not ever.
We spent the entire day searching, but by nightfall, we were no closer to finding her. Exhausted and frustrated, we returned to the clubhouse. I crashed on the couch, totally fixated on Tank.
The more the hours went by, the stronger my gut feeling became that something was terribly amiss. I had to find her. I had to bring her back. I closed my eyes, trying to block out the fear and worry, but sleep didn’t come.
The next day, I was back at it again, searching every corner of the town. I was relentless, driven by the need to find Tank. I wouldn’t stop until she was back in my arms, safe and sound.