by Nicole Reed
At their arrival, Badger, Hound, and Shady, along with other MCer’s Hold knew to be loyal, joined them. The men greeted each other with nods and awkward one-armed hugs.
“Hey, brother,” Hold said to each of the men who’d always been there for him.
“You look like shit,” Badger said, stepping up to get a good look at Hold.
“Mikey settled the score between us,” Hold answered, giving him the lie that he and Mike cooked up.
The older man shook his head and laughed. “You ready for this?” Badger asked, grasping Hold by the shoulder.
Hold nodded. “Yeah, but I’ve got some intel that changes things.”
“Care to share?” Badger looked at Hold, waiting for his answer.
“Not yet, man.” Hold made eye contact with everyone who gathered around him. “If any of you’ve ever trusted me, I need you now to follow my every move. Don’t question my reasons. Believe me when I say that I’ve got your back and everything will work out how we want it to.”
“Whoa, boy. I ain’t followin’ that lying sack of shit one more second. I’ve kept my trap shut for twenty years. No more,” Hound said, crossing his arms over his bony chest. “Ward goes down tonight.”
“Hound, he’s expectin’ it. Hell, he’s probably wanting a reason to take us out. We give ‘em what he least expects. For now,” Hold said, trying to calm the older man.
“Why would Ward trust that we’ve suddenly decided to follow him? Your old man ain’t a dumb bastard.” Badger said, his eyes volleying from Hound to Hold.
“I need somethin’ from him. Somethin’ that he’ll believe I want bad enough to forget my revenge and my future. It will buy us some time,” Hold said quietly, staring at the two elders of the tribe who he now trusted the most. “I need you both on board or this shit is goin’ down hard. Trust me.”
Badger turned toward Hound. Both men seemed to have a silent conversation. This is what twenty years of friendship buys you—complete trust. Hold couldn’t help but to glance over at Mike and know that he’d do whatever it took to make things right between them. This brotherhood was for real. It’s what they now fought for.
Hound heavily sighed before saying to Hold, “I’ll give you enough time to figure this out. But know that this doesn’t end with Ward bein’ king. Make it work, or bloody war will come to Harmony.”
They all nodded in agreement. As the men strode inside, others joined them. Hold knew that not all were decided between Ward and him. Some were caught between joining blood family, or loyalty to the cause of being legit versus running illegal. Nobody voiced his choice out loud.
Those who chose without a doubt to side with Hold stood beside him on one side of the clubhouse. The same for the others who picked Ward. And the undecided meandered around everyone else. It was interesting to see the surprised expression on Ward’s face. His father obviously thought it wouldn’t be so equally split.
“Club meetin’.” Ward said, breaking off from the crowd he represented, Sandman and Robsen at his back.
Hold, Mikey, Badger, and Hound followed closely behind him into the war room. They all moved around the black wooden table that the original seven members had built with their own hands. The only survivors of that group were Ward, Sandman, Badger, and Hound. Each took his seat without uttering a word.
Ward picked up a wooden mallet that matched the table. He banged it on the aged wood before setting it back down.
“Meetin’ is in session,” Ward said, glancing around the table to give each man a hard stare. “It seems to be a fuckin’ shame what this club has been put through.”
“Then you must feel like dog shit for what you’ve done, runnin’ this club into the motherfuckin’ ground,” Hound said, glaring at Ward.
“Listen,” Hold began, interrupting them both. “We can sit here and blow smoke out our asses or get to the point. Ward, do you even want peace restored to the club?”
“It’s all I’ve ever wanted, Hold. But I don’t want my authority questioned. I rule this MC. It’s mine,” Ward said, looking around the room, daring anyone to refute his claim.
“Whoa, man. You mean it belongs to the brotherhood. We all built and believe in the club,” Badger said, tapping his finger against the table while staring at Ward.
“Who built this building we all call home, Badger? Who made the decisions to keep this club thriving for over twenty years? The ones you or Hound were too pussy to make?” Ward answered, tilting his head at his old friend. “Now y’all want to sit on your fat, old asses and do nothin’. Fuck that!”
“Brother, I gave my own blood, sweat, and tears to the Hell’s Highwaymen. You’re runnin’ us all straight to Jackson with a cot and two meals for our retirement. So fuck that!” Badger replied. “It’s time to let some new blood take over.”
Ward’s deep laugh didn’t sound one bit funny to Hold. He watched his old man mull over Badger’s words and he knew that Ward wasn’t givin’ anything up to anyone. Hold knew what he had to do, at least for now.
“I need to speak to my father,” Hold said, glaring at the man who’d helped define his life. “Alone.”
Without a word, Mikey, Badger, and Hound stood to leave the room. Sandman sat stoically next to Ward, staring at Hold. He didn’t budge until Ward nodded to him and the evil glint that shone clearly through the sadistic fuck’s eyes told Hold exactly what he’d like to do to him. Even after he left, Hold felt shivers of lingering menace.
He stared at the man who might or might not be his blood kin. A numbness replaced all the hatred that had been building inside Hold. All he saw was a cold man who didn’t know who he was anymore and didn’t give a shit. “I don’t want your goddamn club,” Hold said, resting his elbows on the table. “I have somethin’ you need and in return you have somethin’ I want.”
“You don’t have a damn thing I need, son. You know it and I know it,” Ward said, emphasizing the word son.
“Oh, I don’t know ‘bout that. If this goes to war, I take half the men—the half that helps keep shit legit. What happens if you can’t wash the blood money?” he asked calmly.
Ward steepled his fingers before him, carefully considering Hold’s question. “So what are you proposin’?”
“I back down. We squash this beef between you and me, show the club we’re all good. Badger and Hound are out of the gun runs. Me and the other guys do your dirty work, but my way,” Hold said, watching the power struggle that Ward wanted to wage.
“And in return?” Ward asked.
Hold paused to decide exactly how much information to give Ward. “Mikey overheard somethin’ Lev told Sandman. And I want it revoked. Today.”
A small sliver of unease crossed Ward’s face before a huge smile split it. “Mikey do that to your face?” Ward asked, pointing to Hold.
Hold knew he was misdirecting the conversation. For now he’d continue to play along with the old man.
“We settled up,” Hold answered, leaning back in his chair. “The same thing I want for us.”
“And you think things can go right back to bein’ normal? Fuck, I’m not even that optimistic,” his father said, laughing at something he found funny.
“We both know they have to or this club goes to shit. I don’t want that and I know you ain’t havin’ it. But I have only one demand. Seems to me like you get the bigger end of the stick,” Hold said, rubbing the new stubble of hair on his chin.
“Well then let me guess. You found out about the contract I have out on Hels? Why do you care so much about this bitch? She didn’t choose you.” Anger transformed Ward’s expression, exposing the evil inside of him.
“Why do you?” Hold asked, leaning across the table. “You killed her mom and sister—your own daughter. Let Hels go. If she knew anything she would’ve already talked by now. Let. Her. Go.”
“So your ma told you everything? Is that what you think? You don’t know shit. Sam confronted me the day before he died. Said Sage had been screwin’ around with him about
the time you were conceived. Thought you could be his,” Ward said, pushing away from the table to stand. “Of course, everythin’ had been fucked-up with him and me for years because of Els. Man, there was no one prettier than Hels’ mama.”
He watched Ward stare unfocused at the wall. After several seconds of silence, he turned toward Hold and ran his hand through his shaggy beard.
“Sage was my ride-or-die old lady, so at first I didn’t believe him. Until the next day. I knew the truth the instant she called me to clean up her mess. Then I fucked up when I set fire to that trailer, not scouring every corner of it before unleashing my rage at Sage for lying to me. My own flesh and blood was still inside.” Ward stood behind a chair, seeming to grasp it until the blood drained from his fingers, leaving them without color.
Hold began to wonder if Ward had ever vocalized the loss of his daughter. Did Hels surviving the fire somehow trigger a response inside Ward to blame her? Maybe it started with her ma, but it snowballed until even the mention of her name drove him fucking insane.
“How goddamn crazy is it that here you sit, the son to inherit my kingdom, almost everything I could’ve hoped for… and not a drop of blood inside you could be mine? And because of my hatred, the child who was filled with it never knew. And it’s all my fault,” Ward said, sitting back down in his chair.
“You can end it right now. Let the past go. Start new with me by your side, the son you raised,” Hold said, glancing over Ward’s shoulder to stare at a picture hanging on the wall. It was of him and Ward when he was a small boy. “We can let this shit eat us, destroy us, and burn everythin’ to the goddamn ground. Or we can let it all go and keep this club—which defines you and me both— together.”
The tension in the room rose with every breath Hold released. A stolen memory was stirred by the picture on the wall of a day he and Ward spent fishing. At that time, it hadn’t seemed like anything special—it’d been another day taken for granted. So many spent wishing he’d been with his friends or Hels and now his past seemed the only link he had with the man sitting across from him.
He couldn’t show any weakness. Hold held back all the sentimental shit that was too close to revealing itself. Until this mess ended, he had to keep it hidden. His hatred toward Ward fueled him. If he let his guard down, the old man held too much power to hurt him.
“I swore vengeance against Hels. Ask me anything else and it’s yours but not that, son. She dies,” Ward said calmly, staring at Hold.
His words didn’t surprise Hold. He wanted to scream at him, hit him. The fucker was crazy and there wasn’t shit Hold could do for now. Instead he nodded his head. “Let me think ‘bout it. Until then, we good?” Hold asked, standing up and keeping his hands steady by brushing off his cut.
“We’re good. Why don’t we call a peace with the boys and all grab a beer?” Ward asked, standing to join Hold. He grasped Hold’s shoulder and pulled him in for a hug. “We all have demons that drive us, Hold. It’s not for you or anyone else to understand.”
The words whispered harshly in his ear didn’t comfort Hold. It didn’t hold the answers to why Ward held a vendetta against Hels. Or if he could get past Hold possibly not being his. It didn’t relieve the piercing pain that sharpened its claws against Hold’s heart. It only confirmed that nothing could ever be the same and he couldn’t go back. Hold had to keep forward on a path that either led to some type of redemption, or complete and utter destruction.
“Badger’s back,” Diamond said, from where she stood watch between the parted panels of navy curtains.
Shyla jumped hastily off the couch to join her aunt. “Is Hold with him?” she asked, her heart fluttering as she mentioned his name. For several torturous hours she’d tried to define what he meant to her, each conclusion leading to one scary fact: she loved him.
“No, he’s alone,” Aunt D answered. She moved toward the door, opening it to allow her husband in.
One look at Badger’s face and Shyla feared what her uncle would say. The grooves that time had already etched on his face appeared even deeper and darker than before. She tried to search his tired eyes for answers, but he really didn’t give her a chance. He reached for his wife, surrounding her tiny tattooed frame with his massive body.
His gravelly voice quietly murmured things into Diamond’s ear. Shyla watched her aunt nod her head once, then twice. When she pulled back from her husband, her eyes overflowed with tears. Diamond reached her hand to rest it sweetly upon his face, before smiling and pulling it away. Shyla felt like a voyeur for witnessing such an intimate moment between her aunt and uncle.
“I’m going to go fix us all something to drink,” Diamond said, turning to walk toward the kitchen.
“Is Hold okay?” Shyla asked in a whisper. Part of her didn’t want an answer and the other hungered for any word of him.
“He’s fine. Everything is good with the club for now,” Badger said, stepping closer to Shyla. “Hold wanted me to give you a message that he’s gotta settle some club business and won’t be around for a couple of days. He said he’ll call you when he gets a chance.”
Badger’s words brought a small relief that only lasted a second. What did he mean that he wasn’t coming to see her? After everything that happened between them this afternoon and the hell he’d just put her through, this is how he handles her?
“What?” Shyla asked incredulously, glancing up at Badger. She’d only spent the entire day getting her ass kicked, fucked, and now dumped? “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” She knew the answer before her question was asked. This was MC life. Welcome to life as an old lady.
“You can stay here for the night,” Badger said, ignoring her anyway.
“Is it safe to go back to my place?” she asked, wrapping her arms around herself to keep from falling apart. Shyla felt like she was coming undone.
“For now. I would still be leery of certain club members. Never find yourself alone with Sandman or Ward,” he said, placing his hands on his hips.
Shyla nodded, feeling as if someone else had stepped inside her soul and taken control. “Thank you. I think I want to go home,” she said in a deadpan tone.
In a daze, she stumbled back to her room to gather her overnight bag. It sat still packed atop the bed. She zipped it closed and slung it over her arm.
“You’re always welcome here, sugar,” Diamond said, leaning against the wall. “I’m sorry ‘bout before. I never meant to say anything to hurt you. I love you.”
“It only hurt because I love you too,” she said, shrugging her shoulders. “I know that choosing this life, choosing him, won’t be easy. But at least I won’t be alone.”
Aunt D nodded. She walked across the room to gather Shyla in her arms. “I can promise you that you won’t ever be alone again,” Diamond said, her voice heavy with emotion that shook her petite frame.
Shyla let her aunt comfort her, needing the human contact she offered—something taken for granted by many, but having been denied it for years, she desperately needed it. Especially after the curt message Hold gave Badger for her. But she knew she’d never comprehend the immense responsibility he had for the men who followed him. She had to respect his request, even if it quietly killed her.
Almost two weeks passed without any word directly from Hold. Shyla stopped counting the hours, stopped ticking off every second of every minute since she’d last seen him. It felt like an eternity since the moment he held her, kissed her goodbye.
She attempted to keep busy learning to tattoo, but Shyla could only immerse herself inside the work for a short period before Hold once again dominated her thoughts. The story was that he was around town, working at the garage, and spending most of his time at the clubhouse. Badger said he was sorting shit out with Ward, keeping the peace.
Shyla likened the experience to being shown heaven, and then banned, kept outside the gate, urgently and achingly wanting another peek. Was she to watch him walk out of her life and not do a damn thing? It was going
to be the hardest thing she’d ever done.
“Ow!” a voice yelped underneath her.
“Sorry,” she said, grimacing at the prospect who volunteered for a free tattoo. Uh oh! The new school devil she’d been carefully outlining had some serious glitches. Diamond wasn’t going to be happy with her and neither was the glaring outlaw sitting in the chair.
It took several hours to fix and finish the tattoo. For a brief period she’d forgotten her problems again, but now they flooded back. It was like she was dying without him. How could he change her life so suddenly? So drastically¸ so… irrevocably?
“Hey you,” Mikey said, completely surprising her. He stood watching Shyla carefully sanitize her equipment.
She didn’t even notice him enter the shop. Shyla was drowning in the depressing emotions swamping her, acting like some lovesick fool. She’d always had a will for survival¸ but she felt like her life was careening out of control, and she didn’t flinch at the crash waiting ahead.
“Hey,” she said, turning a fake smile toward him.
“When did you start tattooing?” he asked, sitting in her unoccupied chair.
“This week. Scary that anyone would let me permanently tattoo their body, right?” Shyla asked, blowing out a swift breath of air. “Even for free.” She walked over to take a drink of water from her half-empty bottle.
“Most guys I know would let you tattoo dancing fairies on them if it was free. They get addicted to the ink,” Mikey said, glancing around the shop.
Shyla nodded, knowing exactly what he meant. He appeared not to have suffered any ill effects from the quarrel between him and Hold that Shyla had heard about. Mikey was, in fact, more handsome than ever. He seemed to have something of a carefree air about him, the way he did before she met Hold—and before Hold turned her world upside down on its axis.
