Chapter 37 #2
“I heard you joined the Jokers.”
“A temporary arrangement.” Legion studies me for a moment, and I can’t help but feel like I’m missing something.
“Everyone keeps telling us not to worry. That this is all just a precaution.”
“Both sides are eager for a truce,” Legion attempts to assure me.
“So I’ve heard. But I’m still worried.”
“Keegan will return to you unscathed and the hero of several counties,” Legion sighs with a hint of resentment. “You have my word.”
“I know. I trust you.”
He seems surprised by the admission and remains silent.
“I know this meeting is necessary…but I need you to be careful, too.”
His gaze narrows. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I know you arranged this.” I lower my voice, not wanting to cause him any sort of shame.
I’m not sure how it would look to those pretending not to watch our exchange if I were to step away with him.
But I want him to know someone, even if it’s only me, wants him to come back alive, too.
“I’m afraid this is you tempting fate again …
throwing yourself between bullets and hoping one of them finally hits. ”
Legion’s pale eyes flick past me for a brief moment, toward the corridor like he’s checking for something, or someone, before he returns his stare to me. “I’m not trying to die…I’m trying to protect what’s left.”
“What’s left?”
His hand twitches at his side, as if he wants to reach out to me, but he doesn’t. He can’t. Not here. Not now…not ever. Instead, his thumbs hook into his denim pockets, and he curls them into tight fists. “ What still matters to me…”
A strange ache wraps around my heart, and I divert my eyes from his intense gaze to check on Ace. My son is still content with the other children watching their movie.
“ Him, too,” Legion adds. When I peer back up at him, he’s staring at me, jaw ticking, like he never looked away. As if he was memorizing my face. “You’re still afraid.”
I nod.
“There is nothing for you to fret over, sweet one. Your husband and I have everything well handled,” Legion replies with an unwavering confidence I should find reassuring.
I offer him a timid smile, unable to confess that this arranged truce isn’t the only thing about our situation I find increasingly concerning. He seems to sense it, tilting his head as he studies me more closely.
“Legion,” an abrupt voice from the corridor startles me. “Come on, we’ve been waiting for you,” Chopper gruffly informs him.
Legion lingers a moment longer, his stare hardening for some reason, as if a decision solidified in his complex mind. When he steps past me, his whispered words send a chill through my entire body… “ After tonight, you’re my Queen, too.”
E ven as we pull into the large clearing around the abandoned cement factory, my thoughts aren’t on the meeting about to commence, the guns and Kevlar we’re wearing beneath our cuts, or the tension riding bitch with every man in this delicately brokered alliance.
But it isn’t tension I feel. It’s exhilaration over everything I’ve managed to orchestrate, combined with the evident fraying of her illustrious restraint…
Sure, she hugged him and kissed him before we departed on this mission together.
She pressed her body against his like she was trying to convey something only they shared.
Sweet…loyal… The perfect Ol’ Lady… I saw the way her hands trembled when she touched him…
The flicker in her eyes when she spared me that parting glance…
as if she needed to know I was still there…
still watching… Still hers … Even if she’ll never say it out loud.
My last words to her… She felt them. I know she did. The way her breath hitched under the slow, coiling tension whenever we’re within proximity of one another… The way she stared at me… Her eyes always tell me the truth her lips refuse to.
Sure, she chose Keegan… She made sure that puny diamond and simple band on her finger glinted in my face as a reminder of the fact… As if it will keep me at a distance she deems safe…
She hasn’t figured us out yet …but I warned her in the cellar before our stolen kiss… I am a patient man.
I don’t bother fighting the grin stretching across my expression. Everyone will simply assume I’m smiling because everything is going according to plan.
There certainly is a war brewing… Only it’s within Keegan’s wife .
The thunderous rumble of bikes echoes throughout the old cement factory as we roll to a stop on the far side of the clearing, leaving our guests room to join us.
I made sure they wouldn’t beat us here, and only gave them the exact location a short while ago, so there would be no chance of an ambush.
Neutral ground… I scoff to myself as I kill my engine and swing off my bike. It’s all bullshit, really. There’s no such thing. But it makes people feel safer, and the illusion is enough to get everyone here.
The cement factory, abandoned decades ago, looms around us—broken windows like hollow eyes, walls crumbling, exposing old wiring and rusted rebar.
I light up a cigarette, my boots crunching against cracked concrete as I stroll a few feet further into the lot to survey the half perimeter of bikers with me.
Both South Carolina chapters have joined Keegan’s original crew, as well as their allies, the Jocsan County Jokers MC.
It’s enough of an impression of firepower to make anyone think twice, even if we end up slightly outnumbered.
Our engines now silenced, with only our headlights glowing in the dark to set the center stage, the low, warning rumble can be heard through the trees in the distance, rolling in as Reaper’s crew approaches. I turn to face our mutual enemies, putting my back to Keegan and his crew.
“ How does it look?” I jest, sneering over my shoulder at their president once more before it’s show time.
Keegan’s eyes narrow, but a half-grin twitches at the corner of his mouth, amused and probably appalled at what I’ve managed to accomplish.
No one saw this coming…and neither will Reaper, but it’s my Ace in the hole…
S ilence falls sharp as Reaper’s crew cuts off their bikes in near unison.
Legion didn’t flinch when they poured into the clearing.
He simply stood there, smoking his damn cigarette in the center of it all like a stage illuminated by headlights, like he’s the ringleader and we’re all his circling ponies.
As the silence stretches on, it feels deliberate.
Like Legion is pulling everyone’s nerves taut.
He’s always had a way of letting an uncomfortable silence do the heavy lifting.
I’ve been on the receiving end of this tactic before.
He’ll leave a sentence hanging in the air, like the smoke of his ever-present cigarettes, curling around your doubts and clouding your judgment.
I also know Legion never just talks. He performs. Sometimes in more theatrical ways than others, but always with an unnerving, charismatic charm that reads oddly threatening.
I shift my gaze to the biker I recognize from the Demons’ Den the night I dragged Vanna out of that shit-hole clubhouse. He’s still a big son of a bitch. A dark-haired, wiry-bearded version of Viking. He dismounts his bike and takes a few slow steps toward Legion.
“Oscar Wilde is famously quoted as saying, Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery that mediocrity can pay to greatness …Ballsy of you to step into my shoes… assume my name and reputation in order to take over what I had intended to collapse,” Legion growls.
“Are you not impressed?” Reaper sneers.
Legion merely flicks his ash, ignoring the question. “And it was Benjamin Franklin who said, ‘ An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure.’” He pulls a slow drag before going on. “War can easily become a consequence of unheeded words, so allow me to convey these terms precisely .”
We all listen to Legion speak with that theatrical edge, accompanied by the odd flourish of a hand gesture timed just right. He isn’t simply laying down the terms of the truce. He’s selling a future.
“Territory claimed by the Saviors MC is and shall remain completely off limits . This includes any and all counties with a clubhouse under the banner of the Saviors MC. There will be no runs. No deals. No manufacturing. No muscle. No excuses. No exceptions… In return, we won’t meddle in your organization.
No sabotaging. No leaks. No shots fired.
No more explosions … If you violate any of the terms, we’ll prove Franklin right again…
and you’ll find that pound of cure far heavier than you can imagine. ”
“Fine,” Reaper nods once, fighting to retain the poker face he rode in wearing.
“Then we have an agreement?” Legion presses, extending his open palm to seal the truce. A slow smile spreads across his face. “The entirety of the Saviors MC territory is off limits, henceforth?”
Reaper hesitates, glancing down at Legion’s waiting hand, completely unaware of all the cunning demon has managed to pull off.
I can’t help but wonder if this was Legion’s plan all along.
“Agreed,” Reaper concedes, briefly clasping Legion’s hand to shake it once.
Cold and transactional. “All of the Saviors MC territory. We’ll steer clear of Bermuda County, down through Horry. ”
“ And all of Jocsan , as well,” Legion adds with a sly grin.
Reaper’s gaze narrows. “The Saviors have no claim on Jocsan. We generously agreed not to conduct business near the Jokers’ clubhouse. Jocsan County as a whole isn’t part of this truce.”
“Oh, but it is, I’m afraid… You see, prior to this meeting, the Joco Jokers patched over to the Saviors MC, thereby making the entirety of Jocsan County…
off limits.” Legion’s grin turns dark, as if he’s daring Reaper to challenge him.
“Did you really think you’d outmaneuver me?
” Legion tilts his head to the side, and I wonder if he’s genuinely curious or just taunting him again.