by Aiden Bates
“I’m saying” —I raised my hands up in a sign of surrender— “that you look like you could use a break. We don’t get a lot of people just passing through.”
Logan ran a hand through his hair. His shoulders slumped slightly.
“Come on, man,” I said quietly, like it was a secret between us. “Just rest for a minute. What’s going on?” I reached out slowly, giving Logan plenty of time to pull away if he wanted to. But he didn’t, so I placed my hand on his shoulder soothingly, and my thumb rested on the bare skin of his collarbone.
Logan’s exhale was shallow and shuddering. He didn’t meet my eyes.
“Come on,” I said again.
“My fucking car,” Logan said grudgingly. He huffed in exasperation, gathered himself, and straightened up. “My car broke down outside town. I’m traveling on a deadline.”
“You need a tow?” I asked.
“No,” he said. “It’s already been taken to the shop. I just need to kill some time before I call and check on it.”
“Where’s it being serviced?”
Logan fished a business card out of his pocket and handed it over. It was Maverick’s personal card, which meant Logan’s car would be at Ankhor Works. The shop was one of a handful of businesses Hell’s Ankhor owned in town, including Ballast itself and a small bike customization workshop. “So you don’t know what the problem is?” I asked as I handed the card back.
“If I did, I wouldn’t be here waiting to call,” Logan said. “It’s an old car. Probably just needs new coolant hoses. I should be on my way out later today.”
“How old are we talking?”
“1994,” he said. “Plymouth Sundance.”
I almost made a joke about how shitty those cars were, but Logan’s I-dare-you expression changed my mind. “Just stay here and have a drink while you wait to call the shop, okay?”
“You gonna force me?”
“No,” I said. “I wouldn’t hold anyone against their will.”
Logan nodded at Tex and Gunnar pointedly.
“Fair point,” I conceded. I motioned for them to unblock the door. Shockingly, Logan didn’t immediately bolt. Instead we stood facing each other, Logan between the door and me, making his choice.
“There’s a nice lake around here, right?” he asked.
“I think so,” I said. “Called Elkin, or something.”
“It’s hot out there.”
“Yeah,” I said. “The lake is nicer in autumn.”
“Well, I won’t be here in autumn,” he said. “I’ll go check it out now.” He turned away and stumbled as his knees nearly buckled beneath him.
“Careful!” I reached for him again, but he steadied himself on the wall without my help.
“It’s fine,” Logan insisted. His face twisted into a grimace.
“Seriously. Sit down before you fall down.” I liked a man with a backbone but this was ridiculous. If Logan wanted to limp his way to the lake to prove a point—well, that just wasn’t going to happen. The only self-destructive behavior I allowed at my bar was the occasional overindulgence in booze.
And besides, he’d only opened up a tiny amount, but already the easy back-and-forth between us had me wanting to know him more. I wasn’t lonely—at least I told myself I wasn’t lonely—but everyone in the club now looked to me as president first, man second. I wouldn’t give up that responsibility for the world, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t nice to talk to someone who didn’t know me in that role. Someone who pushed back a little. And even when he was being stubborn, Logan was still easy on the eyes.
Logan leaned his back against the wood-paneled wall. A thin sheen of sweat shone on his forehead. He tipped his head back against the wall and his pulse jumped in the long pale column of his neck. My hands clenched into fists as I held myself still, fighting a primal urge to crowd him against the wall and feel that pulse point flutter under my mouth. I wanted him—and I wanted his trust.
“Fine,” Logan said after a long moment of silence. “Fine. Just until I can call the shop.” He stalked stiffly toward the far corner of the bar. As he moved, the curve of his ass dragged my gaze like a magnet.
Logan eased onto a stool at the end of the bar, far away from me. Priest caught my eyes from across the barroom where he was seated a few stools away from Logan. When I raised my eyebrows, Priest nodded.
Coop flashed me an enthusiastic double thumbs-up from behind the bar.
Gunnar smirked. “Need anything else, boss?”
“Yeah, I do. How about you get back to fuckin’ work?”
5
Logan
I got my beer on the house as promised, cold, light, and bitter on my tongue. It was refreshing, but I couldn’t let myself relax.
What was Blade’s angle? Why was he so intent on keeping me in the bar?
I trailed my finger through the condensation forming on the pint glass.
Even if Hell’s Ankhor did have an informant close to the Nest, I hadn’t used my first name, so it shouldn’t ring any alarm bells. I didn’t show my face at any Nest businesses, and I definitely wasn’t included in any social meetings or church functions. Church was supposed to be a serious meeting of the senior club members, but since they were led by my father, they often devolved into drunken shouting matches and fistfights.
Now that the hullabaloo was over, the bar returned to its low-level hum of activity. Blade was gone. The two enforcers who had blocked the door had parked themselves in a booth and were back to shooting the shit. Now that I’d agreed to sit and rest, no one appeared to have any interest in me. By the door, one middle-aged member with a linebacker’s build and a pug’s face watched me with some interest before his eyes glazed over slightly and slid past. Recognition niggled at me but I couldn’t place him.
Even the club member sitting a few stools over, with dark silver-streaked hair and a gray beard, seemed much more interested in the sixties horror movie playing on the small TV behind the bar.
There had to be some reason Blade wanted me to stay in town. Were they just background checking every patron who came into the bar? Were they closing the territory borders for some reason and questioning unaffiliated passersby? Did he need me to do some sort of task a club member couldn’t do, like get intel on a neighboring club, and I was the unlucky guy who happened along? Did he just want to search my car?
Or did he know I was connected to the Viper’s Nest?
No. That was impossible. I was being paranoid.
Well. It wasn’t impossible. But it was unlikely. Highly unlikely.
I shifted nervously in my seat.
If word had somehow gotten to Hell’s Ankhor about my father’s plan, then Blade would be expecting someone like me to show up. As far as Dad knew, I was in Elkin Lake on his orders. That was the deal he forced upon me. I was to drive into Elkin Lake, infiltrate Hell’s Ankhor, gather as much intel as possible, and bring it back to the Viper’s Nest so they could overpower the club and take control of the territory.
“Hell’s Ankhor is a fairy club,” my father had spat in my face. “So you’ll fit right in. You’ll finally be good for something.”
Once I’d done my duty, he told me, he’d leave me alone to live my life.
I wasn’t stupid. If the plan worked, I’d be forced to do it again. I’d never be free of my father and the Viper’s Nest unless it was on my terms. I had to get as far away from the Viper’s Nest as possible. My only chance at freedom was disappearance. And everything had been going perfectly until my car betrayed me.
I pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes and took a deep breath.
It was almost funny how wrong everything had gone already. I was supposed to be curled up in an LA motel room watching public access TV and eating delivery. Instead I was stuck here, in this terrible bar, with no way to leave. I was basically initiating Dad’s plan by accident. Maybe I was doomed to be a Viper after all.
And where did Blade go? He’d been so insistent that I stay, and then as
soon as I agreed, he disappeared. As much as I wanted to stay away from him, the bar was safer with him there. His approval was the reason I was sitting unbothered at the bar. What if the other Hell’s Ankhor guys didn’t agree with his judgment? At least if Blade stuck around, I wouldn’t have to worry about the rest of them. It hadn’t quite been an hour, but I was tired of waiting, and I needed to get on the road. The longer I stayed at Ballast, the more chances there were for someone to figure out who I really was. And that was not an option. I called the number on the tow truck driver’s business card.
“This is Maverick.”
“I’m calling about the car you towed earlier?”
“Oh, you’re the guy with that burnt-out Sundance?”
I sighed. “Yes. When will it be ready to go?”
“Sorry, buddy,” the man on the phone said. “Looks like you’ve got a blown head gasket and a crack in the intake manifold. The manifold I can fix pretty easily, but we’ll have to replace the head gasket entirely. And that’s not a cheap repair.”
“How expensive?”
“Estimating right now about $1,800. But it might go up if we end up needing to do more once we disassemble the engine. Plus, we’ll have to order the parts in, so it’ll be a few days before we can get started.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” I muttered.
“You want us to order the parts and do the repair? Honestly, I might consider selling the car instead.”
“No, no—I—yeah, do the repair.” I didn’t have the money. But I had some credit cards that weren’t maxed out yet. I’d figure it out once I got out of here.
That car was the only thing I had in the world that was fully and completely mine, and the only way for me to find real freedom. I had no other choice.
Maverick said he’d call me once he knew more about the parts. I thanked him, hung up, and downed the rest of my beer.
The bearded man sitting near me hummed. “Sounds like you need another beer.”
“Might as well,” I grumbled. “Guess I won’t be driving anywhere today.”
The man flagged the bartender and got both of us another beer. He scooted over a seat so we were side-by-side. “Cheers to that,” he said. “I’m Priest.”
“Logan.”
Priest’s blue eyes tracked over me, warming when his gaze lingered on my bruised jaw and neck. “Looks like you’ve got yourself into some trouble.”
“Funny, you’re not the first person to say that today.”
Priest chuckled. “Oh, you mean our fearless leader?”
It was weird to watch a patched club member talk about the president so flippantly. “Is he always that invasive?”
“Just nosy.” Priest took a sip of his beer. “He means well. He takes his role seriously. If someone walks through that door looking like they need a hand—he wants to know what he can do. Just how he’s wired. Whatever you’ve got going on, you don’t have to worry about it here. We don’t let trouble just come knocking on our doors.”
“You wouldn’t call what just happened between Blade and me trouble?” I asked. Something about Priest – his gruff yet kind smile, his easy demeanor—made my anxiety settle a little bit. He had an air of authority about him, even while being welcoming. If he liked me, that’d probably keep any less friendly guys off my back, even without Blade here.
“If you think that was trouble, you’ve got a lot of life left to live, kid.”
“Pretty ballsy of you to assume you know what kind of life I’ve lived,” I said, without heat. I was used to being underestimated.
Priest softened. “You’re right.”
That surprised me.
“I don’t know what you’ve been through,” Priest said. “But I’m serious. You don’t have to worry about it here.”
“Gotta tell you, this doesn’t seem like the safest place in the world to me.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Priest said. “We’re a family here. We take care of our own. And we take care of people who need our help. I’m not trying to make assumptions here, but you look like you could use a little kindness.”
With a sigh, I scrubbed the palm of my hand across my forehead. I was tired. Tired of being alone, of not having a safe place to rest, of not having anyone to lean on. But what kind of idiot would I be if I ran from one club directly into another? Sure, I was tired. But I was used to being tired. I could handle this alone. I stared into my beer, unable to meet Priest’s eyes.
Priest politely ignored my obvious struggle. “Sounds like from your phone conversation that you’re stuck in town a few days. We’ve got a few rooms upstairs for members who get too drunk to ride. Stay here until your car is repaired.”
“I – I can’t do that. But thank you for the offer.” There was no way I could safely stay here. Whatever Priest was talking about, safety and kindness and family or whatever, it’d be out the window as soon as Blade found out I was connected to the Viper’s Nest. They’d kill me. And if they didn’t kill me, my father would, as soon as he found out I was on the run.
Priest’s brow furrowed in concern, accentuating the fine wrinkles and lines in his tanned face. “Logan. Stay.”
I looked away, but Priest continued speaking.
“This club is a family,” he explained. “We’re called Hell’s Ankhor for a reason. That’s what we do – we provide anchors in a storm. If you’re lost, alone, getting beaten down by the waves… The brotherhood can be your anchor.”
It was nearly dark outside. My car wasn’t going to be fixed today. I was running out of options. When I was planning my getaway, I told myself that if things got really bad, I could always sleep in my car. But now, with no car to sleep in and barely enough money to scrape a new life together wherever I ended up landing—what could I do? I was too exhausted to fight any further. It was just one night. Tomorrow I’d get my car and leave this place in my rearview mirror.
Priest’s seemingly genuine offer of kindness was a balm on a wound so old, I’d given up on it ever healing. Tears pricked hot at the back of my eyes. I didn’t trust myself to speak without breaking, but I nodded.
“You look beat,” Priest said. “Come on, kid, I’ll show you to the room.”
I was too tired to even protest the diminutive name. I slung my small bag over my shoulder and followed Priest up the stairs to a small, quiet hallway where he unlocked the door to the room closest to the stairs. Then he slid the key off his keyring and handed it to me. “Here you go,” he said. “You made the right choice, son. Get all the rest you need.”
I murmured a thanks and Priest left me alone in the small, simple room with a double bed, a closet, and not much else. ‘The right choice.’ I collapsed fully clothed onto the bed. Staying in Elkin Lake wasn’t the right choice, it was the only choice. But tomorrow would be different. Tomorrow would be the beginning of the rest of my life.
As I drifted towards a heavy, exhausted sleep, the face of Hell’s Ankhor president flashed in my mind. Staying in town meant I’d likely see him again—just once more, before I got the fuck out of here.
6
Blade
Sleep eluded me. All night my mind raced, always circling back to the stranger in Ballast, snapping at me like a cornered dog.
I needed a hookup—something quick and meaningless to release some of the agitation I’d built up. Being a young president came with pressure—the pressure to prove myself worthy of Ankh’s legacy despite my relative lack of experience. If I gained a reputation for sleeping around, it would look like I wasn’t taking my role seriously, and it’d only prove to my dissenters that I wasn’t ready for the responsibility of the presidency. Not that I had a lot of time for dating, anyway. It’d been a long time since my last hookup.
So long that none of the members close to me would fault me for blowing off steam in such a harmless way. I’d keep it low profile, of course. And even though whatever Logan had going on wasn’t my problem—I couldn’t shake him from my mind. Something about Logan was different from
my past hookups. It wasn’t his standoffishness—though I did like a little challenge every now and then—but whatever was chasing him. He was running.
From what?
With a sigh, I rolled onto my back and folded my hands behind my head. It wasn’t any of my business. But, counterpoint, he had shown up in my territory, so duty required me to investigate at least a little bit. I needed to focus on the escalating issues with the Viper’s Nest, but my instincts told me I had to at least try to help Logan. Even if he brushed off my offers of assistance.
As soon as Logan had sat down yesterday, I’d slipped out of the bar and called Maverick. I was lucky he was on shift towing that afternoon. Maverick liked a mechanical challenge, and he prided himself on the speed and quality of Ankhor Works’ service. He’d get Logan’s car fixed in a flash.
But I wasn’t ready to let Logan slip away.
“Tell him you need to order a part,” I’d told Maverick.
Maverick had huffed and pushed back. He hated the idea of giving the impression that his beloved shop wasn’t well-stocked or efficient.
“All right,” he’d agreed after some arguing. “I’ll do it. But you better know what you’re doing. That kid looks like he really needs to get wherever he’s going.”
“I know,” I’d said. “That’s why I can’t let him leave just yet.”
Priest, of course, had convinced Logan to stay. You know someone for as long as I’d known Priest and you can communicate with just a nod. Something about Priest encouraged people to spill their guts. He saw through the bullshit. If anyone could start to get through Logan’s defenses, Priest could.
I sighed. The gray dawn light outside began to filter through the window. No point in trying to sleep now. I shucked off the duvet and sat up, and the cool air of the room raised goosebumps across my bare arms and chest.
Sometimes, only sometimes, I wanted to wake up next to another beating heart. I imagined Logan curled in one of the soft beds in a room above Ballast, his wavy hair spread across the pillow, his wary expression softened by sleep. His shoulder had felt narrow but strong under my hand when I’d touched him in the bar hours ago. What would the rest of his body feel like under my hands? Strong and lean? Soft-skinned? My cock stirred with interest.
