Chapter 6 - Riot
"No, Maya, you looked perfect in the first one."
"But this one has flowers, Daddy!" Maya holds up the dress, her third outfit change in the last twenty minutes. "Biscuit might like flowers!"
I'm sitting on the edge of the bed in our room at the clubhouse, watching my daughter have a complete meltdown over what to wear for breakfast. With a dog. Who definitely won't notice the difference between the striped shirt and the flowered dress.
But I don't have the heart to tell her that.
"The flowers are very pretty," I agree, checking my watch. Seven forty-five. We're going to be late. "But you also looked beautiful in the striped shirt. And the blue dress."
"But which one is the most beautiful?" She's standing in front of the small mirror, holding the dress up to her chest, her face scrunched up in serious concentration.
Christ. She's four years old and already worried about looking her best. I don't know where she gets it from. Her mother wasn’t like this, and I sure as hell don't care what I look like beyond "clean enough not to offend."
But Maya... Maya wants to impress. Wants to make a good impression on Biscuit, apparently. Or maybe on Alice. Or maybe she's just picking up on my own nervousness and reflecting it back at me in four-year-old form.
"Wear the flowered dress," I tell her. "It's perfect."
Her whole face lights up. "Really?"
"Really. Now put it on fast, okay? We need to leave in five minutes."
She scrambles into the dress while I check my phone. No messages. Nothing urgent. Just the time staring back at me: 7:47.
I should call my brother. Haven't talked to him in a week, and that's long enough that he's probably starting to worry. Eli, my older brother by three years, has this sixth sense for when something's changed, when I'm making decisions that affect more than just the next town or the next meal.
And this is definitely one of those decisions.
I dial his number. He picks up on the second ring.
"Carter. About time. I was starting to think you'd driven off a cliff somewhere."
"Good to hear your voice too, asshole." But I'm smiling despite myself. This is how we've always been. Insults as affection, worry disguised as annoyance.
"Where are you?" Eli asks, and I can hear the concern underneath the casual tone.
"Blackwater Falls. Little town in the middle of nowhere. Been here about a day."
"A whole day? That's practically settling down for you." He pauses. "Everything okay? You sound... different."
Of course he can hear it. Can probably sense it through the phone, the shift in my voice, the fact that I'm not already planning my exit strategy.
"I might have found a place to stay," I say.
Silence on the other end. Long enough that I check to make sure the call didn't drop.
"Eli?"
"I'm here. Just... processing." Another pause. "You sure? You've been running for six months, Carter. What changed?"
I look at Maya, now fully dressed in her flowered dress, trying to put on her shoes by herself and getting frustrated when the laces won't cooperate.
"Maya needs more than I've been giving her.
Needs friends, school, stability. Can't keep dragging her from town to town hoping the next place will feel right. "
"And this place feels right?"
Does it? I've been here less than twenty-four hours. Slept in a clubhouse with an MC I just met. Got offered work by men who could still turn out to be full of shit despite all evidence to the contrary.
But I fought for a woman two days ago. Met her again yesterday. Agreed to breakfast today and the thought of it doesn't make me want to run.
"Yeah," I say slowly. "I think maybe it does."
"Let me guess." Eli's voice takes on that knowing tone that's annoying as hell because he's usually right. "You found a good woman who makes you want to stay."
I laugh despite myself. "Maybe. I don't know yet. But there's an MC here—the Savage Riders. They're clean, Eli. Actually clean. Like what we thought ours was before everything went to shit. And they offered me work."
"Security?"
"Yeah. Protection for local businesses, keeping the town safe. They've got a code, and from what I can tell, they actually follow it."
Another pause. I can practically hear Eli thinking, weighing the risks, trying to decide if he needs to ride out here and check things out himself.
"You sure about this?" he asks finally. "About the MC, I mean. Not the woman, that's your business. But the club... you know how that ended last time."
"I know." God, do I know. Can still see the faces of the men who died believing in something that turned out to be a lie. Still hear the gunshots, still smell the blood. "But this is different. I can feel it."
"Your gut's usually pretty good," Eli admits. "But if it goes south—"
"I'll call. Promise."
"And you really don't want to come back? The Iron Phoenixes always have a place for you, little brother. You know that."
The Iron Phoenixes. Eli's MC, built from the ground up with men who actually give a shit about the code, about doing things right. Our parents would have been proud of what he created.
But it's his creation, not mine. His legacy, his reputation, his shadow.
"I know," I say, and I mean it. "And I appreciate it. But I need to do this on my own. Need to know who I am without... without all of that."
"I get it." And he does. Eli's always understood me better than anyone, even when I don't understand myself. "But the offer stands. Forever. You change your mind, you call, and I'll have a patch with your name on it within the hour."
"Thanks, Eli."
"Take care of my niece. And yourself. And maybe this mystery woman, if she's worth staying for."
"I'll try."
We hang up just as Maya finally gets her shoes on. Backwards, but I don't correct her. We'll fix it in the parking lot. Right now, we need to move.
"Ready?"
"Ready!" She bounces toward the door with more energy than any human should have at this hour.
We head downstairs. The clubhouse is quiet this early.
Most of the guys probably sleeping off whatever they were up to last night.
But King is in the common room, sitting at the table with a woman I haven't met yet.
She's beautiful in a natural way, long dark hair, warm eyes, completely comfortable in this space despite not wearing a cut.
His old lady, I'm guessing. The way he looks at her confirms it: like she's the only person in the room, like nothing else matters.
"Morning," King says, glancing up. "You two heading out?"
"Breakfast," I confirm, helping Maya with her backwards shoes. "At The Grind."
"Early breakfast," the woman observes, smiling. "Special occasion?"
I hesitate, not sure how to explain. "Just... meeting someone. The woman from the other night. The one with the dog."
"That's how Luna and I met," King says, nodding toward the woman beside him. "I saved her from being attacked. Months later, here we are."
Luna, so that's her name, reaches over and takes his hand. The gesture is so natural, so automatic, that it's clear they've done it a thousand times. "He was very heroic," she says, her voice warm with affection. "Still is."
"It's not—" I start, but the words die in my throat because I don't actually know what it is. "It's just breakfast. Her dog and Maya got along."
They exchange a look, the kind people in love have, the kind that communicates entire conversations without words. King's smiling slightly, and Luna looks like she's trying not to laugh.
"Just breakfast," King repeats, but there's something in his tone that says he doesn't believe me for a second.
I've never seen an MC president so openly in love with someone. Never seen that kind of softness alongside that kind of power. In my old club, showing that much emotion would have been seen as weakness. Would have gotten you mocked or worse.
But King doesn't look weak. He looks... powerful. Grounded. Like loving this woman makes him stronger, not weaker.
"Have a good time," Luna says warmly. "And Carter? Give this place a real chance. It's worth it."
There's something in the way she says it, like she knows what it's like to be running, to be scared of putting down roots. Like she's been there and found something worth staying for.
"I will," I tell her. "Thanks."
Maya tugs on my hand. "Daddy, we're gonna be late!"
She's right. It's seven fifty-seven, and The Grind is at least a five-minute walk from here. I scoop her up. She's getting too big for this, but she still lets me and head for the door.
"Carter," King calls after me. "Think about the work. No pressure, but the offer's real if you want it."
"I will. Thanks."
We're out the door and on my bike before I can overthink it. Maya knows the drill—helmet on, arms around my waist, hold tight. She's been riding with me since she was old enough to sit up on her own, and she's never once been scared.
The ride to The Grind takes three minutes. I pull up at exactly 7:59, cutting the engine and helping Maya off the bike. She immediately spots Alice through the window of the outdoor seating area and starts waving frantically.
"There she is! There's Ms. Alice! And Biscuit!"
I look up, following her gaze, and something in my chest tightens in a way that has nothing to do with the bruised ribs.
Alice is sitting at a corner table, Biscuit's leash tied to her chair.
She's wearing a blue sweater that does something unfair to her eyes, makes them darker somehow, and her hair is loose around her shoulders instead of pulled back like it was last night.
She's nervous. I can see it in the way her hands grip the coffee mug, the way she's sitting just a little too straight, but when she sees Maya waving, her whole face lights up.
Beautiful. That's the only word for it. The kind of beautiful that's warm and genuine, the kind that makes you want to keep looking just to see what she'll do next.
"Come on, Daddy!" Maya is pulling on my hand, dragging me toward the entrance to the outdoor seating area.