Chapter 5 - Torch
I pull into the clubhouse parking lot, my mind still at home with Sidney and Max. Home. The word catches me off guard. That house hasn't felt like a home since I bought it.
It’s just a place to crash between club business and my own demons. But seeing Max and Sidney in my living room... it changes the energy of the place.
King's bike is already here, along with Tank's, Beast's, and several others.
I'm not late, but I'm cutting it close. The entire ride over, I kept thinking about Max's face when the dentist was working on him, that brave little frown, his tiny hand gripping mine like I could actually protect him from pain.
I'm still getting used to the idea that I'm responsible for another human being. That someone depends on me for more than explosives expertise or backup in a fight.
The clubhouse is buzzing with activity when I walk in. Most of the brothers are gathered around the bar, Steel telling some elaborate story that has everyone laughing. They all turn when I enter, and I can feel the weight of their collective curiosity.
"There he is!" Steel calls out. "The man of the hour!"
I shake my head, dropping my keys on the bar. "Don't start."
"What?" Steel feigns innocence. "Can't a man be happy for his brother discovering the joys of fatherhood?"
"Fuck off," I say, but there's no heat behind it.
King emerges from the chapel, his expression serious as always. "Torch. Good, you're here. Meeting in five."
I nod, grateful for his businesslike approach. At least someone isn't treating this like the club's latest gossip.
Beast sidles up beside me, lowering his voice.
"Jenny wants to know if you need anything for the kid. Clothes, toys, whatever."
The offer catches me off guard. "I, uh... I don't know, man. Maybe? I haven't really thought about it."
"Well, think about it. She works at the daycare, knows all about kid stuff. Says she's happy to help."
"Thanks," I manage. "I'll let you know."
Chaos, one of our prospects approaches next. "So... you really didn't know you had a kid?"
"No, I didn't," I say flatly. "And I'm not discussing it further."
He backs off, hands raised. "Just asking, brother."
Before anyone else can interrogate me, King calls us into the chapel. I take my usual seat at the table. For the next hour, I can focus on something other than the fact that I'm suddenly a father to a two-year-old boy.
King raps his knuckles on the table, calling the meeting to order. "First order of business: we've got reports of Iron Eagles activity near Riverton."
The room tenses. It's been quiet since Vulture fled with his tail between his legs, but we've all been waiting for the other shoe to drop.
"What kind of activity?" Tank asks.
"Recruitment," King says. "They're trying to build numbers again. Approaching smaller clubs, independent riders."
"Makes sense," Rage offers. "They lost a lot of men in the last confrontation."
"We need to keep eyes on this," King continues. "No direct action yet, but I want to know if they're moving toward our territory again."
We spend the next half hour discussing surveillance rotations and intelligence gathering. I volunteer for a shift, then immediately wonder if I should have. I have a kid now. A kid who might need me.
Christ, when did I become this person?
"Next item," King says, moving the meeting along. "The security contract for the Founders Day Festival next month. Mayor's office reached out specifically requesting us."
This is good news. The more legitimate business we secure, the less we need to rely on other revenue streams. King assigns roles. Tank will handle overall security planning, Beast and Rage will coordinate with local police, Steel and I will manage perimeter security.
"That's all for official business," King says finally. "Any other matters to discuss?"
There's a moment of silence, then Steel speaks up. "Yeah, I think we all want to know about Torch's surprise visitor yesterday."
All eyes turn to me, and I resist the urge to tell Steel exactly where he can shove his curiosity.
"Not club business," I say tersely.
"Come on, brother," Beast says. "Kid shows up at the clubhouse, claims he's yours. That affects all of us."
I know he's right, in a way. The club is family. What happens to one brother concerns everyone.
King stares at me. "The boy is definitely yours?"
I nod. "Yeah. No doubt about it."
"And the mother? What's her story?"
I shift in my chair, uncomfortable with discussing Sidney like she's a potential threat. "We had a thing three years ago. One night. I was... in a bad place. Drinking a lot. Moving around. She tried to find me when she got pregnant, but I'd changed numbers, moved."
"And she just happens to find you now?" Rage asks, skeptical. "After three years?"
"She found an article about the club," I explain. "She lost her job, got evicted. Had nowhere else to go."
"So, what's the plan?" Tank asks, cutting to the chase as always. "They staying with you permanently?"
"I don't know yet," I admit. "For now, yeah. She needs to find work, get back on her feet. The kid needs stability."
"And you're okay with that?" King presses. "Taking on this responsibility?"
Am I? I barely know how to take care of myself some days, let alone a child. But when I think about Max's green eyes—my eyes—and his trusting smile, I know there's only one answer.
"He's my son," I say simply. "Whatever that means, whatever it takes, I'll figure it out."
King nods, seemingly satisfied. "The club stands behind you. Whatever you need."
"Looks like you're the third one to join the daddy club," Steel says with a grin. "Tank, Rage, and now Torch. Who's next, Beast?"
Beast flips him off. "Not anytime soon."
The meeting breaks up, and the conversation changes to other topics as we move back to the main room. I grab a beer, just one, and try to relax, but my mind keeps drifting back to Sidney and Max.
"You look like shit," King says, appearing beside me.
"Thanks, brother. Just what I needed to hear."
He smirks. "I mean you look stressed. This is a lot to take in."
"No kidding." I take a long pull from my beer. "Yesterday I was a free man. Today I'm responsible for a kid I didn't know existed and a woman I barely remember from three years ago."
"What's your read on her? The mother."
I consider the question. "She's... tired. Stressed. But she's a good mom. Kid's clean, well-behaved, obviously loved. She did her best on her own."
"And now?"
"Now?" I shrug. "I help. It's my responsibility too."
King nods, approval in his eyes. "That's the right answer. But be careful. Make sure she's being straight with you."
"She is," I say, more confidently than I feel. "You should have seen her face when the dentist said he wouldn't charge us. Like she couldn't believe something was finally going her way."
"Dentist?"
"Kid had an infected tooth. Been in pain for weeks because she couldn't afford to take him in. That's why we were late today. I called in that favor Harrison owed us."
"Good call. You’re going to do great, okay?"
"Thanks." The support from my brothers means more than I can express. "I should head back soon. Kid's on antibiotics, still recovering from the procedure."
"Go," King says. "We've got coverage for everything here."
I finish my beer and stand, suddenly eager to get back to... what? The responsibility? The chaos? The strangers living in my house?
No. To Max. To my son.
I say quick goodbyes and head out, stopping on impulse at a toy store I pass on the way home. I've never been inside a toy store before, and the sheer volume of options is overwhelming. What does a two-year-old boy like? Sidney mentioned animals and trucks, so I gravitate toward those sections.
Twenty minutes later, I leave with more bags than I intended: a stuffed dog, a set of toy cars, wooden blocks, and a picture book about a father and son going fishing. The last one made my throat tight in the store, and I almost put it back, but something compelled me to buy it.
The smell of home-cooked food hits me when I open my front door, something so unfamiliar in my house that I pause on the threshold. Sidney is in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove that smells amazing. Max is on the living room floor, running his toy truck along the coffee table.
He looks up when I enter, his face brightening. "Bike man!"
"Hey, buddy," I say, setting down my bags. "Feeling better?"
He nods enthusiastically. "Yeaaah. Ice cream for lunch!"
"Special treat for being brave," I agree, crouching to his level. "I brought you something."
His eyes widen as I reach into one of the bags, pulling out the stuffed dog. "For me?"
"Yeah, for you." I hand him the toy, something tightening in my chest when he hugs it immediately.
"What do you say, Max?" Sidney prompts from the kitchen doorway.
"Thank you!" he says, beaming up at me.
"You're welcome, buddy." I pull out the other toys, watching his excitement grow with each reveal.
The simple joy on his face is like nothing I've ever experienced. Pure and uncomplicated happiness that I somehow helped create.
Sidney approaches, wiping her hands on a dishtowel. "You didn't have to do that," she says quietly.
"I wanted to." I stand, suddenly aware of how close she is. "Something smells good."
"Chicken soup," she says. "I hope that's okay. I used what was in your freezer."
"More than okay," I assure her. "I can't remember the last time someone cooked for me."
She smiles, and for a moment, I'm struck by how prettier she is when she's not exhausted and terrified. "It's the least I could do, after everything you've done for us today."
"How's his tooth?" I ask, watching Max arrange his new cars in a line.
"Much better. The antibiotics are helping already, and he hasn't complained about pain since we got home."
Home. There's that word again.
"Good. That's good." I run a hand through my hair, suddenly at a loss for what to say. "The meeting went fine. Nothing urgent."