Butch

by Trent Jordan

  “Thank you,” Brian said.

  It was the softest thing he had ever said, and the way he said it honestly made it more meaningful than the way some people said, “I love you.” My eyes softened as I put a hand to his cheek.

  “You’re a good man, Brian,” I said. “Don’t ever forget that.”

  Brian nodded, looked down, and sighed. I think the weight of the moment was getting to him again.

  “Let’s go to sleep,” he said. “I need to warn you, though, I might take off at any moment.”

  “I understand.”

  “I don’t just mean tonight,” he said.

  What… what do you mean?

  He struggled to find the right words as he started and stopped himself several times.

  “You’ve shown me that there’s… that there’s… more to me than darkness,” he said, grappling with just saying that. “But now, more than ever, the club needs that side of me to be the enforcer. And if that happens, I don’t want you around. You might get hurt.”

  “Brian, I go to club parties all the time—”

  “That’s not even close to what I mean,” he said, his words gaining strength. “The worst that happens at those is that someone gets too drunk, gropes you, and falls on their ass when you slap them. I mean here, everyone’s going to be sober and angry and violent. People are going to try and find ways to hurt one another as they sort through this, and when word gets out that it was me who shot the rat, some are going to find ways to hurt me.”

  By hurting me.

  “If it gets to that point where we start attacking not each other but the people around us, then I might have to remove myself from you. I promise it won’t be for any reason other than that. But you need to be aware that that is a possibility.”

  “No, Brian, don’t,” I said, fighting his words. “You think someone hitting me would hurt?”

  “They would try and kill you,” Brian said. “You think I’m kidding? Some would think an eye for an eye would be the only appropriate course of action.”

  “No, no, no,” I said, refusing to believe it. “Brian, come on. For all that we’ve done together? For as much as we understand each other?”

  But Brian was unmoved. If anything, my words were only pushing him further into his position. His heels were digging deeper and deeper as my words shoveled the dirt for him to go down in.

  “It’s for those very reasons that you might need to stay away from me,” he said. “I promise I will keep you around if I can. But if it gets to that point, Thea, for your own good—”

  “Brian, don’t you get it?”

  Now it was my turn to feel emotional. And unlike Brian, whose “highly emotional” moments involved merely watery eyes, mine involved actual tears falling down my face.

  “You are the only good thing in my life right now,” I said through sobs. “I have no job prospects. I have no friends. I have just a shred of strength and dignity left that I am holding on to that I am hoping will get me out of this. I have my camera, or I did. And I have you. And that’s it. If I lose you, if I lose the only person that treats me the way you do…”

  I cried some more. I buried my hands in my face. This couldn’t be happening.

  Life really couldn’t be hurting me like this again.

  Why the fuck was I so cursed to be so hurt so easily?

  “Come on,” Brian said. “Let’s go to bed.”

  Those were not the words I wanted to hear. Brian had to do better than that.

  But then he hugged me, and he did do better than that.

  I had to remind myself that there were baby steps involved with Brian—it was almost like he needed a relationship coach to teach him when intimacy and small actions were necessary. And as long as he was trying, that was all I could ask for.

  “OK,” I said.

  We got under the covers. He held me tight, kissed me on the cheek, and spooned against me. It wasn’t much. It wasn’t an assurance for the future.

  But it was enough.

  I woke up the next morning alone.

  I feared the worst.

  I feared that Brian was, unfortunately, true to his word and had left me behind forever.

  I reached over for my phone on my desk. I had no new messages.

  Brian hadn’t even said a word.

  I should have known better. I should have known that he was just trying to quiet me down so he could make his exit in the middle of the night. I should have known that I’d never see him again.

  Maybe I didn’t deserve better. Maybe the best I would ever get was… well, the ex that had ruined my life and was now trying to insert himself back in my life.

  I pulled open my conversation with Shane. I still had not said a word to him since my one response. Maybe it was time for that to change.

  Not yet. You don’t know enough yet. Maybe Brian had a real emergency. Unfortunately, even as those thoughts came to mind, I couldn’t exactly say that I had confidence in their veracity.

  But the thoughts were enough to stop me from texting Shane. I closed my phone and let it fall to the floor. I rolled over, maybe somehow expecting the miracle of Brian’s presence.

  Nope. I was alone.

  But…

  There was one thing that he had done.

  My camera, almost entirely intact, minus a few scratches here and there, was there.

  He’d returned the one shred of hope for a future that I had besides him.

  Butch

  I didn’t sleep a damn wink Saturday night.

  As soon as I felt sure Thea had fallen asleep, I knew what I had to do.

  I had to leave her so that I could make sure I could come back to her later.

  I snuck out of her apartment, headed right for my motorcycle, and dragged it away from her apartment before I drove in a mad dash home. Once I got home, I spent far longer than I cared to admit researching how to upload video from a camera onto my computer. I could not get rid of the evidence, but I could change the medium in which it was presented.

  I had to fucking work with so many wires that I didn’t understand that I nearly broke my laptop several times in frustration, but around probably three or four in the morning, I eventually got it to work. Once I was sure that I had done what I needed to do, I took the film and emailed it to the other officers, including Father Marcellus, the only one who had not witnessed the attack. I was sure that he’d have a hell of a time making sense of it when he woke up, but that wasn’t my concern.

  Once that was taken care of, I hurried back to Thea’s place. After parking my bike, I pulled the camera out from under the seat and examined it.

  It had some scratches from jostling around in the compartment. There was no getting around that. I’d fucked up in that regard, being unable to return the device in the state that I had taken it. But I tested it out otherwise, and I could see that it still shot film. Briefly, I turned the camera back to myself, a sort of old-school selfie video.

  “Thea…” I began.

  But I didn’t know what else to say. I didn’t even know what I wanted to say or what I was going to do. I just shook my head, stopped recording, and started the walk to her place. Hopefully, she’d understand that my lack of further words was more of a reflection of my inability to say anything of value than a lack of desire.

  I got back to her bedroom and found her still asleep, as out as someone under some morphine. She was even in the same position as I’d left her. I was pretty damn envious of the fact that she could fall asleep with such ease and remain in such a deep sleep; I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had slept that well. Not even sex with her had given me such comfort.

  But as I slipped back under the covers to try and at least match her position, if not her deepness of sleep, I couldn’t help but think again about everything. I couldn’t help but think of how Pink Raven, if he knew I had feelings for Thea, would use that to his advantage. And it wasn’t even like he had to see it; he could deduce it sooner or later. People would talk.<
br />
  The only real way to ensure that no one found out I had feelings for Thea was if I acted like I didn’t have feelings for her. And then, eventually, I really wouldn’t. Cruel? Sure. Necessary?

  I didn’t want to admit it, but…

  I got out from under the covers again and put my clothes back on. I placed the camera by her bed and looked at her. With the moonlight peeking through the blinds, her gorgeous frame was in view, along with the white t-shirt that covered her shoulders and upper back. Despite the simplicity of her appearance, she looked as beautiful as any woman I’d ever slept with.

  Broken and weak? No. Thea was not that.

  But unfortunately, unless a club miracle happened and Pink Raven accepted what we had done, I was not the person for her.

  “Thea…” I said.

  But once again, even with the red light off, there was nothing I could say that felt right. No words came to mind. Nothing could be said that would… well, that would effectively say what I felt.

  I was a killer, not a speaker.

  I started to turn the corner of the bed, but I knew that if I even put a hand on her, let alone kissed her, I would be doing a disservice to my goal of being detached. I could not engage her like that if I wanted to protect her.

  I took one last look at her, let out a very long sigh, and pulled myself away before I could touch her.

  I was surprised to be feeling as emotional as I did. My eyes started to well, and a very real thought entered my head that I was passing up the chance for love that I would probably never get again. Thea was maybe the only person who would ever accept me for what I was without being a grubby whore like some of the other club bunnies. The circumstances that had brought us together were incredibly unique.

  Unfortunately, uniqueness did not equal strength, and the strength of those circumstances just weren’t enough.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as I dabbed at my eyes before I got on my motorcycle.

  I was unclear if I was apologizing to Thea or to myself. Maybe I needed to apologize to both. Heaven knew that we both needed some strength going forward.

  As soon as the bike kicked into gear, though, whatever emotions I had felt as Brian Young were gone. I was Butch, Sergeant-at-Arms of the Black Reapers, and I had a job to do. Keep the Reapers together however I could, even if it involved physical violence.

  Though it was not yet even sunrise, I went straight to the clubhouse anyways. I didn’t expect anyone to be there, save maybe a couple of club members who drank too much, but I needed to be there for whenever Pink Raven returned. If he was going to come with violence, I was ready to combat it.

  To my surprise, though, I was not only not one of the first people there, all of the other officers were already there.

  Lane. Patriot. Axle. And even Father Marcellus.

  “Butch,” Lane said, his voice groggy.

  I nodded back and stood before the president, waiting for orders.

  “Grab a drink, Butch,” Axle said. “None of us can sleep. So we’re just talking.”

  “And preparing,” Patriot said.

  “For what?” I asked.

  Patriot sighed.

  “We called a club-wide meeting at the clubhouse this morning at ten a.m.,” Lane said before Patriot could. “We’re going to put everything forward. And we’re going to tell our side of the story.”

  That sounded good to me.

  “That evidence that you emailed, my son,” Father Marcellus said. “I cannot wrap my head around the fact that that was Red Raven. I have no choice but to accept that it was, but… he was as loyal and faithful a man to this club as anyone I have ever known. I have been around this club for a long time, and I have seen some tragic days. But this may be the most tragic of all.”

  No one said a word. I disagreed. A rat deserved to die the most painful of deaths. I wasn’t an especially nostalgic or past-looking person.

  “Where did I go wrong?” Lane said.

  “Don’t you start this, man,” Patriot said. “You made mistakes, but so did your father. No one’s perfect. Red Raven’s actions were not the actions of a sane man.”

  “He wasn’t an idiot,” Lane shot back. “He wasn’t someone that got drunk or made impulsive decisions. I mean, fuck, we treated him like a goddamn sage for a reason. He had to have his reasons.”

  “Envy,” Father Marcellus said. “It’s one of the seven deadly sins for a reason. When you covet something your neighbor has to the degree that Red Raven did, you will either kill to make it happen, or you will be killed to prevent it from happening. It was your death or his, Lane.”

  “I get that, I know.”

  At this point, Lane just sounded like a frustrated youth who felt too stupid to uncover the real answers to the problem. And frankly, I didn’t even fault him. This was nothing like him being detached and passively involved in the club. This was much heavier, much harder, much more difficult on him and all of us.

  “Some things cannot be changed,” Father Marcellus said. “I suspect the moment Roger Carter said that you and Cole would become co-presidents, Red Raven was already plotting his betrayal.”

  “Speaking of, man,” Patriot said, perhaps eager for a chance to change the subject. “What’s going on with your brother? Weren’t you two in talks to try and develop a partnership or something?”

  Lane chortled. That was not a promising reaction.

  “Were,” he said. “It’s the same fucking problems as before. We don’t see eye to eye on anything. If we weren’t brothers, I doubt we’d ever be talking. I’m not even sure we wouldn’t be enemies.”

  “Lane!” Father Marcellus snapped. “Do not speak like that. He is your brother. There is no use in imagining hypothetical scenarios in which he is not.”

  “Fair,” Lane said.

  Everyone paused to take a breath.

  “I want him and everyone who joined him—Owen, Marcus, the rest—to come back to us. I told him he could be co-President. He said that in the year since the Gray Reapers… what a fucking stupid name… have become their own club. He thinks that we will operate best as sort of chapters of the same Reaper organization. He thought that if we did it right, we could expand to other locations, even. Grow the club.”

  Lane shook his head.

  “But that just seems like a recipe for getting unwieldy. We work because we’re tight-knit.”

  “Are we still?” Axle asked.

  It was a brutally honest question. But I couldn’t thank Axle enough for asking it, because we needed an honest appraisal of our current situation.

  Lane hung his head, shook it, and then leaned back into his chair.

  “I guess we’ll find out at ten o’clock.”

  I stood at the front of the clubhouse as some of our members pulled up and walked in. I was under strict orders to make sure that no one walked in armed, and that no one left until the meeting ended. At ten o’clock, though, I was to walk in, lock the door, and we’d go from there. If someone didn’t show up, that was on them. It wasn’t a death kneel for their membership, but they’d have to prove their loyalty later.

  A couple of members grumbled about how it was bullshit they couldn’t carry their weapons, but none really resisted. I think they knew it was a bad idea to fight that point. Most walked in, unaware of what was going on, but a couple walked with an expression that suggested they knew exactly what they were getting into.

  There was really only one member I was looking for, though.

  And as of three minutes before the start of the meeting, that club member had not shown up.

  One minute passed.

  Two minutes passed.

  And still, Pink Raven did not appear.

  Maybe he hadn’t gotten the message. Or, much more likely, maybe he did, told us to fuck off, and vowed never to interact with us again. Though it was my job to consider everyone an enemy or a potential enemy, I actually had a shred of empathy for him. As long as he didn’t bring violence against the Black Reapers, I could u
nderstand him leaving us forever. I certainly wouldn’t chase after him with a shotgun in my hand.

  And that, right there, was probably a bad sign. If I was feeling empathy, I was probably not doing a good job of being a Black Reaper. I needed to operate like a machine, like a real-life Terminator, not as a human being with feelings.

  Are you really sure that’s optimal, though?

  “Alright, we’re going to get started,” Lane said in the room behind me.

  I started to walk inside to shut the door, but just before I did, I heard a lone motorcycle rumbling as it approached. I should have just shut the door and kept on moving inside, but frankly, curiosity for one possibility got the best of me.

  I stood with the door half-open and watched as a lone rider came forward. He wore no cut, but even in the absence of that, I knew Pink Raven had just arrived. I didn’t see a pistol by his side, but I wasn’t taking any chances. He cut off his bike, removed his helmet, and stormed forward.

  “Give me your guns,” I said.

  He stared at me with the same level of hatred that he had the night before.

  “You fucking murdered my father in cold blood last night, and you’re going to act like you can still tell me what to do?” he said. “And I didn’t come here to kill anyone. I’m not a murderous psychopath like you.”

  He briefly lifted his shirt and his jeans to show that he had no weapons on him. I patted him down, ignoring his curses. Satisfied, I opened the door for him. He scoffed, shook his head, and walked inside. I followed closely, one hand on my pistol, just in case I had missed something.

  “… harsh truth, but it’s one we must accept,” Lane said from within.

  “A harsh truth?”

  Pink Raven’s words filled the room and drew all eyes to him immediately.

  “Let me tell you what the harsh truth is,” Pink Raven said.

  I reached for my gun, but Lane caught my eyes and told me not to do anything. I had a really bad feeling about that decision, but I kept my mouth shut.