Claimed: Satan's Knights MC

by Brook Wilder

  Riding his bike was the only way Chance really knew how to calm himself down, to clear his head. The world seemed to fall away when he could go this fast, feel the air at this speed, and feel in completely control of the monster of a machine between his legs and under his fingertips. He’d learned to ride a bicycle when he was a child just so he could graduate to motorcycles as quickly as possible. The only thing he still admired about his father were his skills on a bike, it was something he was still working towards, the only thing he ever wanted to share with his father.

  He moved through the night, no destination in mind, as he thought, bitterly, about what to do. He didn’t want to upset Hannah, he knew that much at this point, but he also wasn’t going to let Gabe get away with everything that had been going on, everything he stole. Gabe was a spoiled, selfish, uncaring child and he put his sister in incredibly danger to save his own ass. Chance did not take kindly to that, nor was he going to be as focused on rehabilitation as Hannah was. It wouldn’t be about getting him better, it would be about making sure he knew exactly where he fucked up and making sure he paid for it so he never did it again. She had a say, she knew she had a right to protest, that was her brother they were dealing with. But he wasn’t going to back down from this because he had a right to exact his revenge too. He bobbed and weaved through the mess of late night traffic, ignoring the traffic lights and slipping through. Link kept up with him perfectly, he was always able to. It was from Link that Chance had truly learned about riding.

  His father had been a gateway but Link had been the torch, the light. There was no one else he wanted following him at that moment, not even Moose. He needed someone who knew how weak he could be, and how strong as a result. He needed someone who knew what he was feeling, who could see it. Moose was one of his closest friends, but still a soldier, someone who took orders. He never doubted Moose’s loyalty, but he didn’t want to put him a position where Moose would have to doubt his own because his general was having some kind of internal crisis.

  He pulled off as they past Nirvana. It was an old bar and former rock nightclub. Some local bands still came through, garage four pieces made up of high schoolers thinking they could turn their life into some kind of teen indie movie and get the girl with a mediocre song and some pseudo impressive drum playing. It was a gritty place that virtually only served beer in whatever bottles they could find still in the cooler and whatever keg could be lugged to the tap. Once or twice Chance saw some college kids out of their element come in and try to order fruit mixed cocktails only to be shot down.

  They pulled their bikes right up to the sidewalk and killed the engines, removing their helmets. Link was staring him but not saying anything. There was a disapproving gait to the way he held his face and the way the muscles seemed to clench. But Chance ignored it. It killed him to think Link was disappointed in him in some way but he also wasn’t going to let that pull on his heartstrings too painfully. He pushed the door open to the bar, it creaked loudly and pulled the attentions of every lonely soul waiting there at tables and up at the bar. They walked in without making eye contact with anyone but the bartender who gave them a tight lipped smile and nod.

  “What’ll it be boys?”

  “Whatever’s the closest tap,” Chance said, saddling up and dropping down into a bench. Link falling in beside them.

  A few seconds later two foaming pints of beer were sitting in front of them, golden on the bottom and a creamy finish at the head. Chance wasted no time in sucking up the foam to get at the reward underneath, taking a massive first sip and lowering the glass. There was something about the feeling of drinking beer, of feeling the buzz of the carbonation pull down your throat and into your stomach, the way it always had that stale taste but it was always exactly what you needed to think, to get rid of the headache. Eastern medicine, western medicine, they all had it wrong. Beer was the only thing you needed for any ailment.

  “You ready to talk yet?” Link asked. He took a moderate sip of his own beer and wiped away the foam mustache beneath his nose.

  “What is there to discuss? I’ve made up my mind, she can agree or not but it’s happening,” he said, tapping his fingers hard on the wood of the bar top, listening to the sound.

  “You made that clear,” Link said. “But would you like to hear things from her perspective?”

  “I don’t see her anywhere.”

  “She has a right to want to protect her brother,” Link said. “I was hoping to get my point across without telling you this because I’m not even supposed to know, it’s something I overheard, but you know her mother is dead, right?”

  “A lot of us have dead parents,” Chance muttered and regretted it immediately. It was a cruel thing to say.

  “Well she made a promise on her mother’s deathbed that should protect her brother,” Link said. “Things you tell people as they die have a way of haunting you forever if you let them. Whether or not it was truly her responsibility to protect him, she’s locked into it by the memory of her mother. The love she had for that woman is protecting her brother now.”

  “So what do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to respect where she’s coming from,” Link said, poking him hard in the chest with a firm index finger. “When you meet new people, make new friends, new lovers, or even new enemies, you’re not only getting them, you’re getting their pasts too. Nobody is a blank slate, kid, and no one is just going to conform to your ideas of right and wrong and good and evil. It’s complicated, but so is life so get the fuck used to it and grow up.”

  Chance’s ears turned red and he felt like he did the day Link nearly beat him for crashing his motorcycle trying to impress Becky Sherman at the high school. He was a grown man now and the subject of embarrassment. That wasn’t supposed to happen. He found refuge in his beer, taking longer sips, wishing it was heavier, could make him drunker faster, could make the night just black out so he could ignore everything Link was saying.

  But he never ignored a thing Link was saying. The man was his friend, his mentor, the closest thing he had to a real father. And it was even in moments like this, times when he felt guilty for his actions, that’s when he respected Link the most. The man would always tell him what was what, whether he was the chapter president or not. Somehow, he was pretty sure that he would always be the Hannahe dorky teenage boy to Link, no matter how old he got or how many men he recruited.

  But that was okay. Someone needed to knock his head around a bit everyone in a while.

  ***

  Hannah was left to sulk in the corner. Ben didn’t hang around long once Chance had gotten up. He chuckled, winked at Hannah, and walked away to go join some friends in throwing darts and playing pool. He laughed loudly, threw back a beer, and made a show of his presence. Hannah couldn’t stand him. She was going to end up punching him by the time all this was over, she was sure of it. She didn’t even care if it pissed Chance off. He deserved to be pissed off. He was selfish and cruel and only seemed able to think about anything from his own perspective.

  “Rough day,” Scout said.

  Hannah leaned back and crossed her arms, not even fighting her pout. It wasn’t a good look for the old lady of the chapter president, but she didn’t care. She was three seconds from ending this entire thing, going off on her own, and handling things her way.

  “Whatever half-baked plan you’ve got going in there to try and take care of things all alone, don’t,” Scout said.

  Hannah looked at her and Scout gave her a raised eyebrow. So maybe she wore her heart a little too on her sleeve sometimes. She huffed out air and wished she had a drink, or that the bar wasn’t all the way across the room where she’d have to walk in front of the entire club just to get some relief.

  “I take it things went well,” said Kat, voice laced with sarcasm as she came to sit with them. “I spotted Chance storming out in a usual temper tantrum. Don’t take it personally, he’s always had a dramatic temper. He’ll come around after a few drinks
and a few hours of a ride.”

  “He refuses to see anything from anyone else’s point of view,” Hannah said, wary that she was complaining about Chance to his family but if they were there and would listen then she’d take her chances getting her rants out where she could before her energy got too pent up and turned into something dangerous. “He won’t even acknowledge that he’s talking about hurting my brother, my family. If the roles were reversed he probably would have punched by now for suggesting the things he’s suggesting.”

  “That’s exactly the point,” Kat said. “Chance was forced to become the man of the house when he was nine. It was a lot to sit on the shoulders of a child. He bore it as best he could, taking care of me. So for him, he couldn’t imagine a man selling out his sister the way that Gabe has sold you out.”

  Hannah clenched her jaw. It wasn’t making things any easier. Whether Chance had a personal vendetta against turning on the female members of a family or not, he was not part of her family, he didn’t get to make the types of decisions he was making without asking her, without taking her opinion into account instead of ignoring her completely and then storming out. She felt sorry for him, she did, and she respected his family. She wanted them safe too. But Gabe would always be her brother, even if these people agreed to adopt her for a time to help keep her safe, Gabe would always be there as long as he was alive, their bond secured through the years.

  “It’s just something to think about,” Kat said, patting her arms. “Who wants a drink?”

  Hannah snorted and raised her hand with a humorless laugh. She needed something stronger than Miller but she’d take what she could get before she got to a liquor store and poured whiskey directly down her throat. She was afraid she might one day end up like her father, burying her problems at the bottom of a whiskey bottle, but right now she could see the allure of getting lost in herself in that way. It would be worth it to just get out of her mind for a bit.

  She wouldn’t go off on her own. She knew Scout was watching her so closely because she considered her a flight risk. She wouldn’t. She got it. And somehow she also trusted that, after a long talk, Chance would probably not sell her brother out or let Ben have his way with her brother’s bones. She just needed a calm down time. She envied Chance his ability to get on a bike and drive off into the night with the wind massaging his restless head. Maybe she should learn to actually ride a motorcycle, or take up running, or any of the types of things that normally helped people relax.

  The beer was a good start. A great start. She practically chugged it down in two gulps and Kat had been smart enough to bring her two, laughing at her gusto.

  “It all works out and we all work through our demons,” she said. “Sometimes the beautiful fermentation of grains helps, but in the end, things always work out in this family. So they will work out for you too. I promise.”

  Hannah nodded, believing her, pretending, just for a second, that her mom was alive again and sitting where Kat sat, saying the words Kat was saying. Mom’s seemed to have a universal language that could make things better. But that universal language didn’t stretch far enough to fill the gap. Hannah’s mother was gone. She was all her brother had left to protect him. She made a promise she would do that. She wouldn’t let down the memory of her mother. No matter what happened, Gabe’s safety had to come first.

  Chapter 11

  It was another hour before Chance returned with Link. Hannah had a couple more beers. She was feeling a bit of the buzz and it served to work down the stress of her system. She felt herself relaxing a bit, forgetting about all the issues that had led her to drink that much in the first place. She settled into her seat without a pout and more of a quiet relaxation. Scout had taken to telling stories about her childhood and the days when Chance was a dorky teenager and getting into a world of trouble. Kat filled in some of those blanks with stories of her own.

  Hannah chuckled. Her anger at Chance was dissipating as the night went on. She felt like she knew him better, even with him miles away, probably getting drunk in his own hole of shame and guilt. The longer things went on, the more she wanted to talk to him, to both apologize and assert her stance. As if the universe was reading or mind or granting her wish, he walked in the doors with Link at his side.

  He seemed to have gotten light as well, from wherever he went off to. She couldn’t help but smile at his own large smile. It was boyish and she thought of the stories his sister and mother had spun about him. She tried not to giggle when he came in. He was important here. He was a leader and she was his woman, as far as anyone else knew. She had to act the part, look the part. A biker’s old lady didn’t giggle or laugh about how her man had a quite childhood and she could see echoes of it now.

  His eyes seemed to be searching for hers because they met in the middle and he didn’t look away, eyes on hers. Their gazes were locked and they both seemed to be telling the other that they needed to talk, that there were things they needed to discuss, that they needed to do it in private. They couldn’t afford to have a discussion like this while putting on a show. They had to be honest with each other, and even if they knew the truth of their situation and relationship beneath this narrative they’d spun for the people around them, it would be better if appearances didn’t get in the way.

  “Alright people,” Kat said, standing up and clapping her hands to get everyone’s attention. “Take this party outside for a bit. Important talks need to happen.”

  There was hooting and hollering as the gang seemed to think it was a euphemism for Chance and Hannah fucking in the room—which would be a strange thing for your mother to wingman you on but Hannah ignored it, watching the room clear out. She did not miss Ben’s sneering gaze and dangerous eyes as he slowly moved out of the room, as if waiting as long as possible to see what would happen. When the door shut behind everyone, Hannah felt herself let out a breath. It was like she could finally take off her mask, her costume. She felt a little lighter.

  “So I’ve been—“

  “I’m sorry I—“

  They both stopped, their words getting stuck over top of each other. They looked at each other for a minute in surprise before they both let out loud laughs, the tension in the room dissipating almost at once. They didn’t say a word as they looked at each other, warm smiles, and eyes crinkled from the mirth of it all. It was probably the beer but Hannah knew that alcohol did not invent feelings, it only amplified them. What she was feeling, how she was feeling it, that was true of her on her soberest day, it just so happened that she was less nervous now.

  Chance held out his hand and she took it without hesitation. It was rough and warm like she remembered and felt a little too much like home. She tried not to sigh too much with happiness as his fingers laced so perfectly with hers and pulled her along towards the office. Perhaps he thought Ben or some others were still willing to hang around to try and listen in on the situation. She walked with him and stepped in, hearing the door gently click behind her as he shut it, following her in.

  He moved to sit on the edge of the desk.

  “I did some thinking,” he said.

  “I hope you got some thinking done, you were gone for like two hours,” she said.

  He smiled a little sheepishly. “Yeah. Look, I want to help Gabe. I’ve just got a lot of personal reasons for being angry at what he’s doing. And I realized it’s not my place to decide his fate. So I want to send him up north. I’ve got some friends there that will keep him safe, keep him out of trouble, help him detox and rehab himself.”

  She was touched. Everything she’d wanted to say, defending her position and berating him, went out the window. He was offering to help Gabe, to get him better. His face was a little red and she wasn’t sure if it was because he was blushing or because the alcohol was finally doing something to his system. But his eyes were all serious, watching her, gauging for her reaction. She felt speechless but she knew he was waiting, holding his breath. Her decision on this would decide what they’d d
o. He’d give her the option, let her take the wheel.

  “That would be incredible,” she breathed out when she ran out of thoughts to keep her brain going, blurting out the first thing she could think of. “That would be amazing. Thank you.”

  Chance shrugged. “We’ve all got to hit rock bottom. Hopefully this is Gabe’s rock bottom.”

  “Maybe he can finally start learning how to be an adult after this,” she agreed, coming to sit next to him.

  “They’ll help him, teach him some valuable life skills, get him back on his feet physically and mentally,” Chance said so firmly like it was a promise.

  Chapter 12

  When they walked outside, hand-in-hand, they found the club was gone. The bikes had been moved off, probably to some bar. Chance wondered how embarrassed he should be at the idea of his mother playing wingman for him but he also couldn’t be too mad about the soft night air, her at his side, and not having to look at Ben’s glaring face. He could pretend things were normal, this girl wasn’t some prisoner in a turf war, she wasn’t in danger, her brother wasn’t a fucking mess that Chance had to sort out.