Carry Your Heart

by K. Ryan

  That was all the motivation I needed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Like I Need Air

  Caleb

  Marcus hammered the gavel to call church to start. All the deep, gruff voices immediately hushed at the sound and I settled back into my chair next to Dom. In the three years I'd been able to sit at the table, it still felt a little surreal to really be here. Since I could walk, this was all I'd ever wanted: a cut, a bike, and a seat at this table. No matter what else was going down, this was home.

  Looking around the table, at all the faces I'd known for the better part of my life, this was my family. Heath, Dom's dad and the club's VP, nodded to Marcus from his spot to the Prez's left, signaling that he was ready to just get this over with already. Everyone else waited patiently and respectfully for their club president to move forward with church, and each body in a seat was my brother.

  Casey, the club's sergeant at arms, sat at Marcus's right, followed by Eli, our intel officer, Tiny, our secretary who was also anything but tiny, ZZ, a recent transfer from our charter in San Antonio, Doc, the name speaks for itself—every single one would take a bullet for me if they had to and I'd do the same for them.

  Dom and I were always side by side at the table and that symbolism hinted at both our legacy and our shared futures in the club. Heath's health was slipping, his heart was getting weaker and his lungs couldn't quite keep up with all the smoke he inhaled on a daily basis. Someday, probably sooner rather than later, he was going to have to step down from a ranked position at the table, leaving me to slide into his place. When the time came for Marcus to step down, he'd hand the club over to me with Dom as my VP. It had practically been written on our birth certificates the moment Dom and I came out of the womb.

  Outlaw was what I was born into, but it was also what I was born for. There just weren't any other options for me because this was everything I'd ever wanted. My legacy was at this table and there was no way I'd ever do anything to jeopardize that.

  "Alright," Marcus began, calling attention to order. "We got a few items on the agenda that need dealin' with. First things first, got the call from Ortega, so it looks like the Lobos are gonna move forward with patchin' over the Cobras. He wants to give them a little test run, if you will, to make sure Padilla will perform up to par. We got this run for the Warlords coming up and Ortega thinks this would be a good opportunity. Padilla and his boys make the exchange with us, everything's good, and they patch in the Cobras."

  A low murmur cascaded around the table as that marinated and it was clear the club might have a divided vote on this one.

  "So...what?" Heath huffed from his seat next to Marcus. "We just let ourselves be guinea pigs for those assholes? If the Cobras are as untested as Ortega makes it sound, why the hell are we responsible for tryin' out the new merchandise?"

  "He's got a point," Dom chimed in. "I know it's just a run, but there's a helluva lot that could go wrong, especially if Padilla isn't up to par. Could cause us some problems with the Warlords if they're not happy with the delivery."

  I chewed on my bottom lip in thought and flicked my cigarette in the ashtray next to me. "Gotta keep the Lobos happy though, bro. If this is something they need to stay happy, then maybe we need to give it to them. Besides, things work out with the Cobras, we stand to benefit from that patch-over too. More muscle for the Lobos means more muscle for us. Everybody wins."

  The impressed expressions on Marcus and Tiny's faces weren't lost on me and this was just yet again another golden opportunity to prove myself. It wasn't a secret that my motivation and my dedication had been called into question enough times in the last few months to make me squirm under the pressure. Here was a chance to show any naysayers I was all in.

  At this point, all this shit with the Lobos and their potential patch-over was really a blessing in disguise for me, even if the Cobras just ended up being a thorn in the club's side.

  I was smart enough to take care of this. I had to be.

  "Anybody else got somethin' to say?" Marcus motioned to the table with his cigarette.

  "I think it would be a good show of faith on our part," Casey shrugged. "This run should be a piece of cake. Same old, same old."

  Doc nodded emphatically from his side of the table. "If the Cobras somehow screw this up, it's better Ortega and his boys know now rather than later."

  "Well," I started again, seizing the opportunity to have the last word. "As far as I can tell, we're not gonna talk the Lobos outta this patch-over even if we wanted to. And we kick up some issues with the Lobos by pissin' them off with this...could attract some unwanted attention. Whatever keeps the ATF outta North Carolina is what we need to do."

  "I agree," Marcus nodded as he clamped his teeth down on his cigarette. He paused for a few short moments to gauge the mood of the table. "Vote?"

  After the nods signaled everyone was ready, the votes went around, with all swayed but Heath, which wasn't much of a shocker. It was the little bit of validation I needed to know that my opinion was worth something at the table and to know that when I spoke, my brothers would actually listen.

  The plans were simple enough: the Lobos would route our normal order to a specific pickup point for the Cobras, who would make the exchange with us, and we would, in turn, pass the shipment to the Warlords, our contacts in Pittsburgh. That shipment was exchanging hands more times than I was comfortable with, but at the end of the day, we really couldn't make it any simpler for Padilla. Now it was just a matter of seeing this thing through to the end.

  The club had a long history of business with the Los Lobos MC in Raleigh and they were pretty much our main suppliers for all the cargo we sent up north. If we lost the Lobos as an ally, we also lost most of our Northern business too, which we couldn't afford to do. And even though everything I'd heard about Diego Padilla and the Cobras was that they were stubborn and hot-headed...well, I figured that wasn't really my problem as long as they did the work and came through as the muscle.

  As soon as church adjourned, I shot a glance at the clock, knowing if I hurried, I could still meet Isabelle at our picnic table for lunch. It was my day off at the shop, but I was here and it felt a little weird to eat lunch without her now.

  The few times that had happened I almost didn't know what to do with myself. The last time we'd worked separate shifts, I'd spent more time glancing around for her, even though I knew she wasn't working, than actually eating my lunch. Besides, I was chomping at the bit to hear all the details about those applications she'd filled out last night. It didn't matter that I already knew she and Becca were coming out with us tonight—why not just hear about everything now?

  My mouth dipped into a low frown when I didn't see her at our picnic table right away, so I turned on my heel and headed straight for the office, trying to shake the feeling that something was wrong. Hell, it wasn't like I was her babysitter or anything and she didn't necessarily need anyone keeping tabs on her either. Still, I could barely keep myself from sprinting into the office to make sure she was there and that today was just a normal day.

  I nudged the door open with an elbow and my lips tugged upwards when I saw my mom and Isabelle huddled up together by the printer.

  "I was sure if we just hit this button, the damn thing would work, but..." my mom trailed off as her dark eyes flew up to me. "Hey, baby. Church just get out?"

  "Yeah, just a minute ago," I tilted my chin towards the printer. "What're you ladies doin' over there?"

  "Well," my mom jutted a hand on her hip. "We're trying to scan some of Isabelle's sketches, and I don't know if our wireless is down or what, but neither of us can get the damn thing to actually work."

  I shifted my attention to the other beautiful woman in the room, cocking a playful eyebrow at her and pushing away the way my heartbeat spiked at her shy smile.

  "You're scannin' sketches now, Iz?"

  "I need to put a digital portfolio together and Skyler said I could use the scanner," she just shrugged.


  I nodded slowly, painfully aware that my mom's ever-watchful dark eyes were currently darting between Isabelle and me with a curiosity that made me a little nervous. It took a deep breath and a loud exhale for me to realize that Isabelle was watching me now too. At least she was still smiling at me.

  Just as I was about to open my mouth to say something, anything to break this awkward spell, my mom stepped away from the printer, her lips twitching with amusement.

  "Well," she started softly. "I suppose I should go find Eli and see if he can fix the scanner. I'll leave you two kids alone."

  Thankfully, she didn't linger too long and was out the door a half a second later because I wasn't sure I could take that prying gaze right now. With Isabelle in the room, I didn't know what it was. I tended to lose focus on anything but her and the last thing I needed right now was for my mom to ask me some obsolete, mindless question I wouldn't be able to answer just because I was too busy looking at Isabelle to even hear what she said.

  "So..." Isabelle started slowly, her eyes sparkling like a deep ocean in the sunlight.

  "So, I wanna hear all about those applications. You take your lunch break yet?"

  "Nope," she smiled and gestured with her head towards the door. "Let's go."

  . . .

  When we were sitting at our picnic table, I felt like I could finally breathe. And focus. Sometimes, I wasn't sure if it was just her presence that calmed me or if it was all in my head because being so close to her tended to make me lose focus sometimes too. Either way, all I knew was I was starting to need these quiet moments with her like I needed air and I had no idea what to do with that.

  "So, you're making a digital portfolio," I prompted her as she unwrapped her granola bar and took a bite.

  "Yep," she nodded in between bites. "All the websites I looked at last night said you need that to at least be considered. It just sucks though. I mean, I don't have any letters of recommendation, no transcripts that really matter. All my gen eds will transfer, so I'd only have two years of school left instead of another four, but it's not like anything else I did at Duke really counts now anyways. I just don't know if this portfolio is going to be enough."

  "It will," I nodded, needing her to see just how firmly I believed in this and in her abilities. "Maybe it's better this way, ya know?"

  "What do you mean?" she frowned.

  I just shrugged and leaned over to grab some of her Gardetto's. "This way you can just let your work speak for itself. It's enough, Iz. It really is. So, when do you think you're gonna apply?"

  When she chewed on her lip, her head leaning downward, my heart lurched in my chest—what did I do? What did I say?

  "As soon as I have my portfolio ready, hopefully by the end of this week. Skyler told me I could use the shop as my home address just because I don't know what my dad will do if he sees anything in the mail," she murmured softly, still unable to meet my eyes. "Thanks, Caleb."

  Something tugged at the edges of my heart, making it twist and compress deep in my chest. Would this feeling only intensify when she finally brought her eyes back up to me? I didn't really need to think about it. The answer was obvious.

  "It's not a big deal, Iz," I shrugged, which was just my lame attempt at grasping for something to shove me back into reality.

  "No, Caleb," Isabelle shook her head and just that slight movement made my heart ache. "It is a big deal. You have no idea."

  I waited as she struggled to find the words she was searching for and tried not to reach out to her. Every instinct sparking through me was screaming to touch her—just once, to comfort her, to help her find what she was looking for, to do whatever she needed right now. I just wanted to be there, to be what she needed, and I knew I should be nothing but eternally grateful she was even letting me sit across from her right now.

  "It's just that," she whispered, gesturing between us. "I've never had this before. I've never had anyone tell me that...ugh, I know what I'm trying to say but I—anyways, what I mean is, thank you for everything. Your support, your encouragement, that's what I've never had before. You're the only who's really seen my sketches and you're also the only one who's ever told me that I'm good at it. I don't know that I would've even thought of applying to art school if it wasn't for you. I guess I just didn't think of it as an option for me until you suggested it. I have no idea if I'll even get in, but at least it's something, right? At least I'm trying. Finally."

  I figured it was going to take some serious introspection before I could even begin to wrap my head around everything she'd just said and what it meant. So, instead of trying to think of something profound or meaningful, I just leaned into my elbows and shrugged.

  "You're welcome, Iz," I shot her a soft grin and then, I slapped my hands on the table. "So, tell me about these schools, huh? I wanna know everything. Don't leave anything out."

  I resisted the urge to lean my head on my elbow to listen as she went into animated detail about each school, the location, programs, cost, student loan options, professors, reputations—she really didn't seem to leave anything out.

  The obvious choice, at least to me, was VCU. It would probably be the perfect place for her to hone her artistic abilities and most importantly, to provide that fresh start she seemed to crave. Besides that, it was the best art school in this whole region of the country. She deserved the best and I was just so damned proud of her for reaching for it.

  If our roles were reversed, I doubted I'd have the balls to pull myself together and actually try to accomplish something worthwhile with my life. She was doing something real, something that would take her places, and if it led her out of Claremont, I knew I needed to prepare myself for that exit too.

  Something stabbed at me from the inside out just at the thought of Isabelle ending up five hours away from Claremont. It was the best thing for her. It really was. The cold hard truth was that, deep down, I knew I wouldn't want her to leave whenever that time came.

  "Hey," Isabelle threw a pretzel at me, drawing me out of my thoughts. "You're coming out with us tonight, right?"

  "What? Uh. Yeah, I don't see why not."

  "Good," she exhaled. "I really need a drink."

  "Why's that, Iz?" I frowned.

  Her blue eyes sparked with realization. "Oh crap, I didn't even get a chance to tell you! I ended things with Brandon last night, right before I started filling out those applications actually, and needless to say, he did not take it well."

  I leaned forward, eyebrows raised and instincts engaged. "Really? Everything alright?"

  "Yeah," she dismissed my concern with a wave of her hand. "He probably said some things he shouldn't have said, but I guess it could've gone worse."

  "But you're okay?"

  "I'm fine, Caleb," she grinned back at me and that calmed my nerves a little bit. "Better than I've been in a while, actually. I just feel like a giant weight has been lifted, you know? But, I still need a drink."

  "Well," my lips curled into a smirk. "I guess I better help you out with that then, huh?"

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Brawl

  Isabelle

  I couldn't imagine being anywhere but at this table, surrounded by the people who'd become such an integral part of my life. Becca and Eli were directly across from me with Dominic and Lexie to my right and Caleb to my left. Finally, after a rough couple of days, unwinding a little felt really good. This, right here at Graffiti's, was exactly what I needed.

  "I don't care what anyone says," Dominic was goading Eli. "You can't tell me the Eagles are better than the Panthers. I won't listen to a damn word you have to say."

  "No, that's blasphemy and you know it!" Eli practically stomped his foot in response and Caleb just barked out a laugh.

  Even though the two had been going back and forth, with arguments ranging between most Super Bowl showings to rushing yards, I wasn't putting too much effort into following along. The song, "Follow Your Arrow" by Kacey Musgraves, was playing in the backgrou
nd, so completely fitting for my life right now, and kept me rocking my shoulders to the beat until Caleb playfully hip-checked me right into Lexie.

  "Hey, asshole," Lexie pointed her index finger at Caleb with faux sternness and hooked her finger towards her swollen belly. "There's a baby bump here. Did you forget that, buddy?"

  Caleb's hands immediately flew up in defense. "Hey, sorry if I forget sometimes, Lex. It feels like you've been knocked up forever."

  "Jerk. I'm really glad you're gonna be my baby god-daddy," Lexie smirked back at him, carefully sneaking a glance at me as she spoke.

  "Listen, Lex," Caleb threw back at her with a cocky grin. "All you gotta do is admit how much you love me and we can stop pretending."

  Lexie just rolled her eyes as Dominic tossed a handful of popcorn at Caleb. "Right, tell me again why I'm gonna miss you when you're gone?"

  Although I was literally right in the middle of them, that last comment caught my full attention. Gone? The immediate frown that crossed my lips couldn't be stopped and my heart thudded in my chest as my mind spiraled into a whirlwind of questions. Where was he going? How long was he going to be gone? Why didn't I know this happening?

  I didn't want to sound like a clingy, desperate something, but I couldn't stop myself from turning to face Caleb. "Where're you going?"

  Caleb just shrugged and draped an arm around my shoulders. "Just a run, Iz. No big deal."

  "Oh, okay," I nodded slowly, painfully aware that all eyes at our table were fixated on us.

  It didn't matter that I didn't entirely understand what a run all entailed. Someone, probably Lexie, could explain it to me later. All I could really put together through my hazy grasp of the situation was that Caleb was going to be leaving and the idea of him leaving, even for a few days, just did not compute.

  Something shifted in Caleb's ocean blue eyes and I felt myself suck in a sharp inhale...it was like he could read my mind and knew exactly what was running through it. I really hated that about him right about now.