That was dumb. Whoever had that brilliant idea…
Oh, right. My father, who passed the club on to us in his will.
Suddenly, it felt a lot more shameful to criticize the club than it did just moments before.
But that didn’t erase that I still felt an extreme case of imposter syndrome.
“Hey.”
I looked up. Petey stood at the entrance of the clubhouse, the first officer to have arrived for my inaugural meeting as temporary president. I hated that we were calling it inaugural, as if it was something to celebrate. The only reaction that I had to that was one giant “what the fuck.”
“Hey, Petey,” I said, the frustration palpable in my voice.
“You feeling alright?” he asked. “You don’t look great.”
Why even bullshit? It wasn’t like it was a secret that I was looking to escape the clutches of the club.
“Honestly, I don’t even know that I can do this, Petey,” I said. “Brock has run this club so well, and now I have to step in… I don’t know, that’s such a heavy burden. I don’t know that I can run it as he did.”
“So don’t.”
I grimaced at that thought. I knew he was going to give me some spiel about running the club in my vision, but that only worked if I had the backing of the rest of the club. There were quite a few people who would not have wanted any reason for the club to change its approach.
“You’re not Brock, you’re Landon. You may be brothers, but you’re two different people. You have to figure out who and what you live for to figure out how to lead.”
“Huh?”
Maybe someone with better morale and a better certainty about taking over would not have been so obtuse. I wasn’t trying to be difficult; I just really had no idea what the hell Petey was saying. It just sounded so hippy and stupid.
“We all fight for our brothers,” Petey said. “But in your case, you have a literal brother. Don’t you think that Brock is someone worth fighting for?”
“I mean, yeah,” I said. “But being willing to fight for someone and being able to lead a club are two very different things.”
“Not as much as you might think,” Petey countered. “Everyone in this club is looking for someone to be inspired by. Brock’s done a pretty damn good job, but he’s out for now. So who takes over? Who better than his brother? Who better than the man who wants to honor, but not duplicate, his brother’s legacy? The tactical stuff is easy; worst case, Parker and I can guide you on that. The real challenge is being a leader that other people want to get behind.”
You know, he may just have a point.
“Look, if we can have a moment here, Landon, no one expects you to be excellent.”
It was harsh, but certainly very fair.
“No one expected this. Then again, no one expected your father to be killed by Vulture. Sometimes, things just happen before we’re ready. But you can surprise people by fighting to keep the club ready for your brother. Do you think you can do that?”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure I could.
But I was certainly more sure of the possibility of doing that than I was of running the club in my own image. If all I was tasked with doing was maintaining the club rather than having it rise up to new levels, that was much more feasible.
“I think I can,” I said. “Thanks, Petey.”
“Well, thank me once Brock is back and we’re still a club,” he said with a chuckle. “We’ve got a thorn in our side that doesn’t seem very willing to die so easily. Even your father would have struggled with that.”
Maybe a day ago, Petey’s words would have unsettled me and made me uncertain about taking Brock’s place.
But in a way, knowing that my father would have faced the same challenges that I did went a long way to making me feel like I could do it. He was human too, after all.
As long as I worked under the King name and for the King name, maybe things would be alright.
It was still surreal to sit in the head seat at the table, even after Petey had given me the vote of confidence, even after Parker had encouraged me at the hospital. I actually went instinctively to my normal seat just to Brock’s left before William pointed out, politely and quietly, that I needed to sit at the head of the table.
I took a second to get comfortable in the seat. I meant in the literal sense, because I had a feeling there was probably no getting entirely comfortable being in Brock’s seat. But as long as it wasn’t uncomfortable, I’d be fine.
“Alrighty then,” I said. “Thank you all for putting your faith in me, and, uh, let’s get to it.”
I sure hope I sound presidential. Heaven knows I don’t think I do.
“Parker,” I said. “You told me just before we began that you’d gathered intel on what the remaining Anarchists had done, right?”
“Yep, President,” he said.
I could tell by his tone he was trying to support me. I couldn’t even begin to express how much I appreciated that, given that I had most feared beforehand that he’d be the one most likely to mock me.
“We had an old member here by the name of Owen,” he began. “Owen was gettin’ pissed that he wasn’t getting promotions to officer in the club. ‘Course, if he just took a step back and realized he ain’t nothin’ but a giant shithead, he might not have turned out so bad, but in any case, he’s that. So, some time ago, he left us and joined the Anarchists. We ain’t had many like him, but it seems he’s more than happy to seize the power void to try and strike at us.”
Well, that’s delightful. I knew from Parker’s quick side conversation with me that it was a former member who was suspected of leading the charge, but hearing that it was Owen was not exactly encouraging.
The first time Owen walked into the shop and asked to join, I had a bad feeling. He had a short buzzcut, dark brown eyes, tattoos of skulls on the side of his neck, and a scar that ran down his right forearm. Brock tended to be pretty permissive of letting people in once they proved themselves—the fact that he had let in some former Anarchists before Vulture’s death had said it all.
But dealing with the Anarchists who wanted to join us was far less terrifying than taking on Owen. Owen would lash out at the other prospects frequently, criticize their performance, and try and kiss ass the officers. It didn’t take much effort to see that he was trying to play the politics game, and when we quickly demonstrated a general intolerance for that, he was out the door that much faster.
But I suppose that if I ever thought that dealing with this problem would be easy, then I was even more in over my head than I would have anticipated.
“Best guess is the fucker hidin’ in Golden Valley,” Parker said. “We ain’t seen much activity in Las Cruces or El Sorino recently. Golden Valley’s had some sightin’s, though. Best guess is there’s just a half-dozen left.”
“But since one of them is Owen, we will have to treat this as a bigger threat than just six,” I said, trying to sound like I could convey the proper level of fear.
The room seemed to take the statement serious.
“It also raises the concern,” Parker said. “That they gonna know how we usually act. So we gotta mix up our game.”
I smiled at that. How could I not? How could anyone have missed the most obvious thing about Parker’s words?
“Well, good news is, we’re mixing it up by having me as president,” I said. “They only know me as the vice president. They won’t know how I’ll respond.”
I wasn’t sure that I sounded as confident as I would have liked to, but while taking a general look at the room, I saw Petey smiling. Parker looked like he was plenty satisfied. Zane always had a guilty smirk on his face, like he’d just set up a practical joke, so it was hard to say. William was quiet, but William had taken on a different demeanor since Tyus’ death.
“Well then, Mr. President, whatcha suggestin’?”
Just go with you first gut reaction. It’ll be different.
“You’re going to hate me for this
,” I said. “But instead of striking late at night or early in the night, we’re going to attack at sunrise. Specifically Monday morning.”
“So fuckin’ early,” Parker said, but he was teasing me. “Why ya gotta take out our sleep schedule like that?”
“What better time to strike than when the Anarchists think the world will be watching us, and therefore preventing us from striking?”
Nods of understanding came from everyone in the room. Suddenly, I was starting to feel pretty good about my standing as president. I still didn’t want to do this long term, and I wasn’t convinced I’d remain in the club once Brock came back, but I sure felt a lot more connected and a lot better to the club.
“Alright,” Parker said. “Well, I like this plan.”
“As do I,” Petey said.
“William? Zane?”
They both nodded their heads and gave a thumbs up.
“Alrighty then,” I said, clapping my hands. “Then I will see you all in a day and a half. Plan on us riding out at six in the morning.”
More playful groans followed. God, I was tempted to tell them that we’d be getting up at five just for that or to crack a joke about being too mature for the club.
But I just let the moment sit. Sometimes, the small victories were the best ones.
I hummed to myself as I walked outside the meeting room and grabbed my phone, mindlessly checking my texts. I had one from an automated service, one from Caroline…
Of which I could read, “Hey Landon, I appreciate all that we’ve done together the past few days. But…”
That was quite possibly the worst word to trail off on for a preview. Unfortunately, even if I didn’t know exactly what followed, I knew there was only one thing that could follow.
And when I opened up the text, my worst fears were confirmed.
My decision to go back to the club had cost me a chance with Caroline.
4
Caroline
I wasn’t as settled on the matter as the text made it sound like I was.
I wanted to give Landon a chance to respond. I wanted to give him the opportunity to try and fight for the relationship. I was open to being wrong about this and realizing that my emotions had made me act impetuously.
But with every minute that passed in which Landon did not respond, I was beginning to feel more and more that what had happened Friday night was just an illusion of sorts, a trick by Landon to make me feel more valued than I actually was.
I should have figured this would happen. As soon as the club came calling, I was just going to be tossed to the side. Landon hadn’t changed; he’d just gotten better at masking his darker emotions than he had in his teenage years. I mean, for goodness’ sake, he’d joined the club that had led to his father’s death! How was that not going to carry around some baggage?
Stupid. Stupid. Stu—
My phone buzzed. It had to be Landon. It had to be.
So, maybe being a little impetuous, but maybe just being a little vengeful, I didn’t grab the phone at once.
And then it buzzed. And it buzzed again. And again. OK, maybe I should pay attention to this and see what’s going on.
I picked up the phone to see Landon had texted me four times in the span of, what, a minute? Maybe two? I sighed, trying to steady myself, as I opened up the phone and started reading the conversation.
“Hey, can you call me so we can talk about this? I know I’ve been absent all day. It’s just been crazy. I’m sorry you’re feeling this way, I know I haven’t been great for it. Just don’t think I’ve been ghosting you.”
“I know it seems that way. But it’s really just activity at the club.”
“I still want us to work.”
“Please call me. I’ll be around for the rest of the day.”
I stared back out the windows. The rain of the day was still pouring down heavily. My emotions were just as clouded with confusion and emotion as the skies above my apartment. I may have made an emotionally charged decision on emotion, but if I was going to re-engage with the topic, to do so under a heavy rush of emotions would only hurt me.
So, much to my chagrin and feeling like a bitch, I just shut my phone off. The call could wait until after the storm—and the day—had passed.
If the plan was to calm my emotions before I woke up on Sunday, unfortunately, it failed pretty badly.
There wasn’t much in me that wanted to talk to Landon. I’d come to the conclusion that he just wouldn’t have said a word to me if I hadn’t texted him, and while that was understandable to some extent, so was my decision. If he chose the club over me, that was his prerogative, but so was my reaction.
But I just felt like it would be a shitty thing if I didn’t say anything to him at all. I at least owed him the courtesy of an explanation for my decision.
Begrudgingly, I texted him and said I would be happy to talk on the phone at any point.
It was of no surprise that he called immediately.
“Hi,” I said, trying to keep my voice as formal as possible.
“Caroline, can we do this in person?”
I wanted to dislike him for that request. It seemed awfully obvious what he was trying to do. But instead, it just left me wanting to see him. It would be nice.
Caroline, you need to stand firm on your decision. You can see him, but be aware that he’s going to be a lot more persuasive in person than he will be over the phone.
“Why?” I said, but I knew that I was just giving him the chance to rope me in even more.
“Because I feel like what we had was really good and really strong, and I don’t want to waste it on a phone call. If this is going to end, you deserve to hear from me in person. Not over the phone. I understand if you want to do whatever you want, but… well, damnit, Caroline, my life is all over the place right now. Do you think that you can do this for me, please?”
Ugh. He’s guilt tripping me. I don’t think he’s doing it on purpose, but still. He’s succeeding.
“What time?” I said with a sigh.
“As soon as you can,” he said. “And Caroline. I know it sounds like I’m making demands, but I’d really like to meet at one of our places or the clubhouse. The clubhouse is most ideal, I—”
“Woah, woah.”
I could accept meeting in person. But now Landon was just pushing his luck so hard, I felt like he was trying to force me back into the relationship. And as much as I liked him, I had my limits on how much I could take.
“I’m game to meet you in person, but this needs to be in a neutral place. I’m not having this talk to be won back over.”
You sure about that? It doesn’t really seem that way.
“It’s just dangerous right now, and the last few women that have been seen with club members have had trouble happen to them because they were seen in public. I just think if you come to me at the clubhouse—that’ll be best, it’s known—then the potential fallout will be limited.”
So now I have to be put at risk?
And yet, I still leaned toward seeing him. I told myself it was because I was a nice person who valued doing things honorably, but I had a feeling the real reason was a little more personal than that.
“Fine,” I said. “I’m heading over there now.”
“I’ll see you there. Thanks for having this conversation with me.”
I sighed as I hung up the phone. So much for being far removed from the hard life.
But, then again, I wasn’t really doing my part in trying to stay away from the dangerous part of it, either. There was only one way I knew that I could ensure that I wouldn’t allow Landon to persuade me back in.
I had to tell him that it’s not that it wouldn’t work out—it’s that it couldn’t.
Because I was going to move to Arizona at the end of the year.
5
Landon
The minutes I spent Sunday morning waiting for Caroline to show up to the shop were like how I had spent the previous day.
&nb
sp; Pacing, walking, and waiting for her to communicate with me.
I didn’t think it could have possibly ended the way it did. I could admit I should have said something to her before I went in for my club meeting, just to give her an update of sorts. But still, for her to end it like this?
She must have really believed I was lying. She must have genuinely feared for me going back to the club.
And unfortunately, she was right. I had gone back.
God, what a fucked up world my life was. I couldn’t escape the very thing that was preventing me from having normal relationships, but I also wouldn’t escape it even if I could right now because of my brother. Really, like all things that affected the Savage Kings, this came back to the Anarchists. Fuck ‘em. We’ll make sure they’re all dead by the time breakfast is served Monday morning.
I started to get really pissed off, so much so that I almost wanted to suggest that we not delay any further on the attack. The only reason I didn’t was because I knew that would play right into the narrative that Owen would expect, and I wasn’t so far gone that I was going to make a poor strategic decision. But damn, my feelings sure were getting awfully crowded by the hour.
And then I saw her car drive up.
After, of course, other club members had already shown up to lounge, do car repair work, or handle other club business. So much for it being a private meeting. Guess I’m just going to have to take her to the meeting hall. It’ll get looks, but I’m the president now. I can get away with it.
When she got out of her car, she immediately noticed all of the other club members walking around the shop and clubhouse. The look on her face went from one of perhaps some nervous expectation to one of extreme annoyance. Her eyes narrowed and her nostrils flared. Though I couldn’t hear her sigh, I sure could note it as I walked over.
“I know, I know, I didn’t—”
“Let’s just go somewhere private,” she snapped.
Devil's Sin Page 2
