Chapter 6
A short while later, Reeze dropped Molly off outside the school, resting a hand lightly on her shoulder before she disappeared through the doors.
“Don’t forget to put the helmet in your locker.”
“I know, Dad.”
“You said the same thing yesterday.”
“Because you said the same thing yesterday.”
Reeze laughed as Molly rolled her eyes in a way that was frighteningly similar to his own, then ran off towards her friends. He remained where he was until she had disappeared inside before pulling out his phone. Tony answered on the second ring.
“What have you done now?”
“Good morning to you too.”
“You never call this early unless it’s going to cost me money.”
“Fair.”
Tony was already sighing. “What do you need?”
Reeze smiled as he swung a leg over the bike. “Charlie needs to go shopping.”
There was a brief silence on the other end.
“Yes, sir. Send me the list of what she needs.”
“I’ll sort it.”
When the call ended, Reeze slipped the phone back into his pocket and started the bike.
The morning should have felt good. Billy, Isaac and Jet were coming home, the club would finally be whole again and, for once, things ought to have been easy.
Yet something continued to niggle at the back of his mind as he rode away from the school, a feeling he couldn’t quite put his finger on, as though the world had drawn a deep breath and still hadn’t decided whether it intended to let it out again.
The prison stood on the other side of town, an ugly square building of concrete and glass that looked as though it had been designed specifically to remind people who made the decisions.
By the time Reeze turned into the car park, Rollo was already there, leaning against his bike with his arms folded across his chest, but he was far from alone.
Wallhalla colours were everywhere.
Brothers stood scattered around the car park, some leaning against their bikes, others smoking or talking quietly amongst themselves.
Nobody was causing trouble and nobody needed to make threats.
They were simply there, together and wearing their colours, making their presence and the unity of the club impossible to miss.
Reeze parked beside Rollo and gave him a nod.
“Situation?”
“Soon. Lawyer called ten minutes ago.”
They fell silent again. Police officers moved in and out through the entrance, some of them casting quick glances towards the bikes and the men wearing Wallhalla cuts, but nobody said anything and there was no confrontation. There didn’t need to be one.
Then the doors opened.
The Vice President came out first, looking a little thinner around the face but with the same expression in his eyes, followed by the Master of Scribe and then the Master of Roads.
Another few hours inside might not have made any real difference, but none of that mattered now because they were standing there, finally free.
A low rumble of approval travelled through the waiting brothers as hands were shaken and shoulders slapped. Someone cracked a crude joke that made several of them laugh, breaking the last of the tension that had hung over the car park.
“Fuck, they keep the place packed in there,” someone muttered.
“Suits them,” another replied.
Rollo stepped forward and pulled each of the three men into a brief, hard embrace.
“Good to have you out.”
“Good to see you,” the VP replied, glancing past him at the line of bikes and Wallhalla colours. “You held the fort.”
“Always.”
Nothing more needed to be said.
They mounted their bikes almost at the same time and, one after another, the engines came alive until the deep rumble filled the car park. A moment later the column began moving through town, a familiar line of chrome, leather and club colours that made people look up as they passed.
Reeze rode just behind Rollo, letting the wind tug at his braid as they headed back towards Wallhalla.
For the first time that morning, he felt some of the tension leave his body.
Billy, Isaac and Jet were back where they belonged and the club was whole again, at least for the moment, and right then he was willing to take whatever peace he could get.
When they rolled through the gates, the place was considerably livelier than it had been when they left.
Preparations for the weekend gathering were already in full swing and the entire yard buzzed with activity.
Prospects hurried between the storeroom, workshop and clubhouse with their arms full, while some of the older members stood bent over plans spread across one of the tables outside the entrance.
Further away, someone was measuring out space for the tents, while the sound of hammering carried from the stage area as the first sections were put into place.
“If that fucking thing falls over again this year, I’m blaming Jet,” Reeze heard someone say.
“I was in jail last time too.”
“Exactly. You’re obviously the problem.”
Several men laughed, and Jet gave them the finger without even breaking stride. It was the sort of stupid exchange that had been missing over the past few days, insignificant on the surface but important because it meant things were beginning to feel normal again.
The return of Billy, Isaac and Jet had the same effect on the rest of the club.
Reeze could see it in the way shoulders relaxed and smiles came a little more easily.
Someone slapped Billy on the back as he passed, while Isaac barely managed to get off his bike before two prospects appeared with questions that had clearly been waiting since the arrest.
“So you survived without me.”
“Unfortunately.”
“Ungrateful bastards.”
Reeze shook his head, smiling to himself as he headed towards the pub. The club was exactly what it had always been: loud, chaotic and full of people who could drive him fucking insane, but it was also sometimes the closest thing to a home he had ever known.
“You’re actually going to work now?” someone shouted after him.
Reeze turned and continued walking backwards for a few steps.
“One of us has to bring in some fucking money.”
“You sell beer!”
“Exactly.”
“That’s not a real job!”
“You’re only saying that because you’re jealous.”
The laughter followed him all the way to the door.
Hangman’s Rest was considerably quieter than the yard outside.
A handful of customers sat scattered around the tables with coffee or lunch in front of them while soft music played through the speakers behind the bar, and the familiar mixture of coffee, wood and old beer seemed to have settled permanently into the walls.
Mia stood behind the counter with the till open in front of her and a pile of receipts spread across the bar.
“You’re early.”
She didn’t even look up.
“I got kicked out.”
“Finally someone’s had enough of you.”
“That was actually quite hurtful.”
Now she looked up.
“No, it wasn’t.”
“A little.”
“Absolutely not.”
Reeze grinned as he hung his cut behind the bar. “I thought we had something special.”
“We do.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Yeah?”
“You cause problems and I solve them.”
“That sounds like love.”
Mia rolled her eyes so hard he was almost impressed. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Laughing under his breath, Reeze washed his hands and began clearing away the glasses that had been left behind by earlier customers.
It wasn’t exactly demanding work, but he liked it.
There was something soothing about the ordinary routines of the place, the familiar movements, familiar faces and the pub itself remaining much the same regardless of whatever madness was happening elsewhere.
“So?” Mia asked after a while as she closed the till. “How did it go?”
Reeze knew she wasn’t asking about the pub.
“They’re home.”
Mia nodded. That was all she needed to hear. She had been around the club long enough to understand everything contained in those two words.
“Good.”
“Yeah.”
Reeze began restocking the fridge while his gaze wandered through the window towards the yard, where people were still moving between one job and another.
Billy was already talking to two members near the parking area, Isaac had disappeared into the clubhouse with a bundle of papers tucked under one arm and Jet seemed to have landed in the middle of an argument about transport for the weekend.
Everything was carrying on exactly as it should, but although Reeze’s hands were occupied with bottles, glasses and beer taps, his thoughts had wandered somewhere else entirely.
Back to Charlie and the strange atmosphere between them that morning, to how unexpectedly natural it had felt to wake up beside someone and to the way she was with Molly.
Somewhere in the middle of it all, he had begun imagining things he had never allowed himself to think about before: family dinners, school graduations, someone waiting for him when he came home.
The very idea should have sent him running in the opposite direction, yet instead he found himself standing there smiling at a crate of beer like he’d completely lost his fucking mind.
“That face worries me.”
Reeze looked up.
Mia stood with her arms folded, studying him suspiciously.
“What face?”
“That stupid one.”
“I have several stupid faces.”
“No. That’s a very specific stupid face.”
That made him grin properly, which only caused Mia’s eyes to narrow.
“Oh no.”
“What?”
“Who is she?”
“Mia.”
“Reeze.”
He sighed heavily and closed the fridge door, but Mia remained exactly where she was, arms still folded as she watched him find another glass to wipe despite the fact that it was already clean.
He tried to look busy, but they had known each other far too long for something that pathetic to fool her.
“You do realise this is the first time in years you’ve mentioned the same woman more than twice?”
Reeze looked up from the glass. “That sounds made up.”
“It isn’t.”
“You count?”
“I’m a bartender. People literally pay me to stand here and listen to them talk.”
He muttered something under his breath and put the glass away while Mia smiled with obvious satisfaction.
“First she was the pretty neighbour.”
“I never said pretty.”
Mia gave him a look.
“Reeze.”
“What?”
“I have ears.”
He sighed theatrically. “Go on, then.”
“Then she was the neighbour who saved Molly.”
“That sounds much better.”
“And then she became Charlie.”
Something shifted almost imperceptibly in him when she said the name. It wasn’t much, but it was enough for Mia to see it. She had, after all, spent most of her adult life keeping track of a group of grown men who were rarely as difficult to read as they liked to believe.
There had been women after Lotta. Plenty of them.
Nobody in the club cared any more who Reeze went home with or who climbed out of his bed the following morning.
Sissi had appeared often enough that people had stopped raising their eyebrows years ago, and most of the pass-arounds and patchbunnies already knew exactly what to expect from him.
Reeze could be charming, generous and a hell of a lot of fun for a night, but that was usually where it ended, and Mia knew that better than most.
Which was precisely why she had noticed Charlie.
It wasn’t the fact that there was another woman in Reeze’s life that caught her attention; it was the fact that this one had stopped being merely the neighbour and had become someone with a name.
Charlie.
Reeze put another glass aside and leaned against the bar.
“You’re overanalysing.”
“I live with Rollo. It’s either that or alcoholism.”
He laughed despite himself, and Mia immediately saw how little resistance there really was left.
“You like her.”
“I like plenty of people.”
“You know exactly what I mean.”
Reeze ran a hand through his beard and let his gaze drift back towards the yard.
Preparations for the gathering were still going at full speed outside.
A few prospects were hauling tables between the storeroom and the tent area, someone was shouting for Jet on the other side of the yard, Billy was standing further away talking to two members and Isaac already appeared to have buried himself in paperwork and planning.
Normal club chaos.
Still, several seconds passed before Reeze answered.
“She’s good with Molly.”
Mia’s expression softened because there it was, the part that mattered more than anything else.
Molly.
After Lotta, Reeze had kept every woman who passed through his life at a safe distance from his daughter.
It didn’t matter how long they stayed or how well he got on with them.
Nobody was allowed close enough to Molly to become important unless there was the possibility of a future, and for years Reeze had made damned sure there never was one.
“Yeah,” Mia said quietly.
Reeze nodded. “She sees Molly.”
The words came easily enough, but Mia heard the weight behind them. Most people never looked beyond the cut, tattoos and everything else that tended to attract attention when Reeze walked into a room, and even fewer looked at Molly without first seeing her as the biker’s kid.
Charlie had.
She had seen Molly first.
“That scares you more than Charlie does, doesn’t it?”
A crooked smile appeared on his face, but there wasn’t much humour in it. It was the resigned sort of smile a person gave when someone knew them far too well and had just walked straight through every attempt at avoiding the truth.
“Considerably more.”
Mia came around the bar and gave him a light slap on the arm.
“Good.”
Reeze stared at her as though she’d lost her mind. “Good?”
“Yes. Good.”
“You’re going to have to explain that one.”
“For the first time since Lotta put your heart through a fucking shredder, you look like a man who actually wants something again.”
Reeze groaned. “That was a terrible analogy.”
“But accurate.”
“Unfortunately.”
Mia smiled and leaned against the bar beside him.
“I’m not saying it’s going to be easy, and I’m definitely not saying it won’t hurt. But you’ve spent years hiding behind casual women, Reeze, and everyone here knows it. We’ve just been too polite to say it to your face.”
“Polite?”
“Relatively speaking.”
That made him laugh properly, and Mia smiled with satisfaction.
“See? There’s hope for you yet.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Yes.”
“Rollo must be fucking exhausted.”
“He is. Constantly.”
“Poor bastard.”
“I tell him that too.”
When Reeze turned his attention back towards the yard, however, Mia noticed that the smile was still there. For the first time in a very long time, he didn’t look like a man calculating how quickly he could get away before something became too important.
He looked like a man who had begun wondering what it might feel like to stay.