Blade

by Aiden Bates

  “I knew you had it in you, kid!” Gunnar grabbed Logan roughly around the shoulder and pulled him in for a tight side-hug. Logan met my eyes across the bar, flashing me a smile and a little shake of his head. Compared to Gunnar’s muscular frame, he was tiny.

  “We better pick up the pace if we want to get on his level.” Siren raised her beer to me.

  It was a casual night at the clubhouse. A low-key gathering to boost morale. Gunnar and Logan were getting along marvelously in the kitchen, laughing riotously with Tex and Maverick at a story Coop was telling with his trademark over-gesticulation. Priest and Heath sat on the couch with a card game abandoned on the coffee table, absorbed in conversation. Siren, Raven, and I had landed at the pool table behind the couch, playing a round of three-person cutthroat. Raven, as usual, was mopping the floor with us.

  Raven leaned over the table, carefully lining up his next shot.

  I knocked my shoulder against Siren’s. “You doing all right?”

  “Yeah,” she said with a shrug. “No worse than usual.”

  “You sure?” I asked, mock-stern. Kidding, but not kidding, and Siren saw right through it.

  “Blade.” She patted my forearm, the silver of her many rings cool on my skin. “I’m fine. The worst part was that guy had a minor case of meth mouth, so it wasn’t the most pleasant experience. It’s not my favorite way to manage targets, but it’s often the most effective. You know that.” She took a swig of her beer.

  Raven took his shot and the cue ball slammed into the five ball, where it ricocheted neatly off the table’s edge and missed the pocket by a hair. He cursed and slammed the end of his pool cue against the hardwood like a wizard with his staff.

  “Blade, your turn.” Raven glared at the table like it had personally wronged him.

  I surveyed the table, then chose my target and lined up the shot. From across the room Logan’s eyes burned through me. His green eyes shone, still sharp, though his cheeks were flushed from the alcohol. I threw him a wink, then leaned over the table.

  “Don’t put on a show, Blade,” Raven said.

  “You’re one to talk,” Siren said.

  Raven turned beet-red and mimed throwing a pool ball at Siren’s head. “You’re just mad because I’m winning.”

  “You always win,” I said as I lined up my shot. “We just play you to make you happy.”

  I went for the shot and missed.

  “Well, it’s not working.” Raven folded his arms petulantly over his chest.

  I stood back and let Siren take her turn, then Raven. Raven sighed, leaning on his pool cue. His eyes kept darting to the kitchen, where Logan was sitting perched on the countertop, laughing as Gunnar explained the mechanics of a rugby scrum using a terrified Coop as an example opponent.

  It wasn’t my place to intervene—that was where I drew the line as president. I wasn’t going to get involved in relationships between members unless they specifically asked me for mediation. I wouldn’t ever be the first choice of a mediator while Priest was around, but I hated to see Raven’s crush on Gunnar grow. It could only end painfully. Gunnar would never get involved with Priest and Ankh’s only son. But if Gunnar and Raven were in the same room, Raven’s eyes still sought him out. Every time.

  I was the first to get knocked out of the game, as Raven pocketed my last ball during his turn. “There’s the prodigy,” I said, and I tousled Raven’s dark hair.

  “Piss off,” he said without anger.

  “Kick his ass, Siren,” I said.

  She saluted, and the two of them went back to the game.

  “Yo!” I shouted at the kitchen.

  “Help!” Coop said, from where Gunnar had him in a headlock.

  Tex pulled a beer out of the fridge and tossed it to me with an archer’s precision. I caught it and cracked it open, quickly drinking down the foam.

  I raised my eyebrows at Logan, as if to say, All good?

  He winked at me, and wet his lower lip with his tongue.

  I was really in trouble.

  I made my way over to the couch and dropped onto the cushions next to Priest.

  “Raven just kicked my ass at cutthroat,” I said.

  “That’s my boy,” Priest said.

  “How you healing up, Heath?” I asked.

  Heath grinned, then pulled his shirt up to reveal the wound. It was almost fully healed, but from the pink new flesh, it was clear he’d have a long, mean scar. “Only hurts when I stretch too far,” he said.

  “Gonna scar up nicely.”

  “Yeah.” He shrugged and lowered his shirt. “I think it’ll look pretty badass. I’d rather have a big ugly scar than be dead, I’ll tell you that much.”

  “Hell of a story,” I said.

  “I’m pretty glad you found that nurse on the side of the road,” Heath said. “Speaking of. I think I’ll go thank him in public again and make him all embarrassed.”

  Heath wandered off to the kitchen. I raised my beer and clinked it against Priest’s.

  “How are you doing?” Priest asked. “Ready for the fun and games tomorrow night?”

  “More than ready,” I said. Tomorrow we’d be laying our trap for the Viper’s Nest. We’d be making contact with the dealer’s source, and then doing whatever it took to erase their presence.

  “And the rest of the event went well?”

  I nodded. The event meaning the disposal. After I’d gotten the information I needed from the dealer, the enforcers took care of him. It wasn’t a cruel death—it was quick, and we left his body outside town. It was common knowledge in California that Elkin Lake was Hell’s Ankhor territory. And people knew what we did to people who tried to fuck with our territory and the people who lived in its borders. I found it to be a fair consequence for the lives the drugs had taken.

  The fact that it made Siren’s life a little better to get rid of the scum she’d had to seduce was a nice little bonus.

  “Good,” Priest said. “Listen, Raven ran that background check that you and Gunnar requested.”

  “What? Why didn’t he come to me?”

  “Because he can’t get you alone,” Priest said gently. “You’re always with a certain someone.”

  Oh. That was fair. I grunted in acknowledgement.

  “Your boy’s not a threat,” Priest said.

  A weight I’d been carrying suddenly dissipated. Tension bled out of my shoulders and I sank backward into the comfortable couch. My instincts about Logan had been right. Even though he was an outsider, he was trustworthy. And even if I was still learning how to balance the distraction Logan posed with my duties as president, there wasn’t anything deeper than that. I wasn’t betraying Ankh’s legacy. My intuition was part of the reason Ankh and Priest had chosen me, and I hadn’t let them down.

  I could finally admit to myself what my feelings for Logan had become.

  Seeing Logan goof off with the rest of the members warmed me. If the results of the check had been different—if I’d had to confront him about whatever he was hiding, or worse, remove him from the territory—I wouldn’t have been the only person hurting.

  “I didn’t think he was,” I said.

  “I know you didn’t.” Priest patted my knee. “But it’s good to have it confirmed, right? Trust but verify.”

  “Yeah. God, yeah.”

  “All right, geezers, get over here!” Gunnar called. On the kitchen island he’d set up a game of beer pong, with him and Logan standing on one side. “Me and Blade versus Logan and Raven!”

  “No way,” Raven said as he walked immediately to the kitchen. “I’m terrible at beer pong.”

  “Come referee, Priest. I don’t trust anyone else.”

  We all gathered in the kitchen. Maverick topped off the red Solo cups ensuring each was filled exactly the same. Priest stood to the side of the game laughing good-naturedly. “This place is turning into a frat house.”

  I took my place at Logan’s side. “That guy rope you into this?”

  Logan
slid his arm around my waist, his fingertips sliding under the hem of my shirt, cool and promising against my skin. “He didn’t have to try too hard.”

  “Watch and learn,” Gunnar said. He held the ping pong ball delicately in two fingers, then tossed it towards us. It went wide and bounced off the floor.

  “Wow,” Raven said. “Great shot.”

  “Just a warmup,” Gunnar said.

  Logan went first and nailed it. Gunnar cursed and drank.

  I landed my shot as well.

  “I’m shocked,” Raven said as he drank dutifully. “I didn’t think Blade was good at anything involving hand-eye coordination.”

  “Ooh, fighting words,” Logan said. He elbowed me.

  “He’s like an angry little kitten,” I said.

  The game ran long because our luck ran out—lots of missed shots, lost ping pong balls, and laughter. Siren did a few celebrity shots, nailing one for each team.

  Finally, after far too long, Logan and Raven won the game. The night wound down as members wandered toward the common room couches or the upstairs bedroom to pass out. Logan and I walked back to my house. I took off my leather jacket and wrapped it around him against the chill of the night air, then tugged him close against me.

  “Thanks,” he said, snuggling deep into the jacket.

  I liked seeing him like that. Flushed and wrapped in my clothes. I tightened my grip around his shoulder and pressed a kiss to the crown of his head.

  Upstairs, we undressed quickly and collapsed into my bed, naked and curled against each other in the cold. Our legs tangled together as Logan kissed me lazily.

  “I like your family,” he said. “I’ve never met anyone like them.”

  “Neither had I,” I said.

  “It’s weird.” He closed his eyes. “I haven’t known them for very long, but it’s like I… I just fit. Here. With you.”

  Had the drinking loosened his tongue, or was he finally ready to open up to me? His careful vulnerability tugged hard at my protective instincts. I pulled him close and kissed him again, deeply, until we were so wrapped up in each other it was hard to tell whose limbs were whose. We had sex slow and grinding, not rushing but not taking too much time either. It was comfortable, sleepy, warm sex. Afterward, Logan cuddled close into my chest and quickly fell asleep. With my arms wrapped around him, his heart beat slow and steady against my palm.

  “You do,” I said. “You do fit.”

  What I meant was: I love you.

  20

  Blade

  Early in the morning I gave up on getting any good sleep. Logan had slept deeply all night, on his belly, his face burrowed into his pillow with the duvet pooled at his waist. His leanly muscled back rose and fell evenly in sleep, smoother and far less scarred than his abdomen.

  I sat on the edge of the bed. Logan stirred awake and blinked his bright green eyes open, still fuzzy with sleep. “What time’s it?” he murmured.

  “Early.” I smoothed my hand down the line of his spine. “Go back to sleep.”

  “’Kay.”

  I dressed quietly, leaving Logan in bed.

  Outside, my bike roared to life beneath me. The vibration and the sound was like an immediate painkiller, a hypnosis that brought my nerves down a little bit. I rode out of town and into the mountains. The curving, narrow roads required just enough attention to navigate.

  I loved him.

  On the one hand, I was relieved that Logan wasn’t a threat to the club, that I was free to be with him—or however free I could be while he was still a citizen. But on the other hand, loving him meant he was a target for people looking to get one over on the club. It meant I had a vulnerability. Even though Logan had agreed to stay, he might not be able to handle the brutality of club life. He’d already endured so much violence—even though I didn’t know exactly what that violence was. Did I have the right to ask him to join the club and face even more? Was that callous or selfish? I needed to be able to focus on the club’s needs, and do whatever it took to protect it—could I do that if I was constantly worrying about sheltering Logan from it?

  I rode aimlessly for nearly an hour, my thoughts winding with the bike, swerving between Logan and the planned action tonight.

  When I got home, Logan was in the kitchen in a sweatshirt and his boxer-briefs. He gripped his mug protectively—clearly his first cup of the morning.

  “Hey.” His smile turned into a yawn midway through. “Nice ride this morning?”

  “Yeah. Just had to clear my head a little.”

  “I figured,” Logan said. “There’s coffee.”

  I poured myself a mug, then stepped behind Logan to kiss the back of his neck. “I gotta handle some club business today. I’ll be out and about. Probably won’t see you until tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow?” Logan tilted to the side to furrow his eyebrows at me. “What’s going on tonight?”

  “We’ve got what we needed from the dealer.” I wouldn’t involve Logan more than I needed to, but I wouldn’t hide the plan from him, either. I owed him that much, at least. “We’re taking action against the Vipers. Setting a trap tonight.”

  Logan started. He pulled away from me, tense and wide-eyed. “What kind of trap?”

  “Can’t talk about it. Better to keep the details only to the members who will be there.”

  “Blade—”

  “Don’t fight me on this,” I said. The more he knew, the more I’d worry about him. Our relationship complicated this plan too much already. I wasn’t just an instrument of the club anymore. Before Logan, I was willing to sacrifice myself for the club if it came to that. Now… now I had something to come home to.

  Logan folded his arms around himself. “I won’t,” he said softly. “I just… I don’t want anyone to get hurt.”

  “If we don’t do anything, people will keep getting hurt. The drugs are killing people.”

  “I know, I know.” The muscles in his jaw clenched and jumped. “I just wish there was another way.”

  “If anyone does get hurt, I’ll know where to bring them, huh?”

  “The emergency room,” Logan said firmly.

  “All right, Nurse Ratchet.” I pulled him close to me by the loose fabric of his sweatshirt. I kissed the bitter taste of coffee from his mouth. In truth I had nothing to do to prepare for the plan this evening. We were set up and ready to take action as soon as the sun went down. But I needed to get my head in the game. This revelation—it was a distraction. Family, the club, came first. If this plan was to be successful, I needed to be on top of my game. And it had to be successful.

  Logan clung to me, the kiss searing, like I was going off to war.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said. His green eyes searched my face. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, then finally placed a palm on my cheek and said, “Have fun.” I knew he meant be safe.

  Determination surged inside me. He didn’t push or press or try to dissuade me—he trusted me. I’d deal with the Vipers tonight. I’d do whatever it took. For Ankh, for my family, and so I could come home to Logan.

  “Those fuckers are late,” Gunnar hissed.

  Coop was standing at the back door of a closed-down bar at the northern edge of town, chain-smoking cigarettes and tapping his feet nervously. He’d ditched all his club gear and wore only a denim jacket, like an average citizen. With Coop, I couldn’t tell if he was actually scared, or just playing the role of anxious green drug dealer. Situations like this always reminded me why he’d risen to the rank of enforcer. He was disarming and easy to underestimate, but compulsively loyal, and if the Vipers pulled anything sketchy, he wouldn’t hesitate to take them out.

  “They’ll show,” I grunted.

  “They fuckin’ better.”

  Gunnar and I were hidden around the corner of the building. On the other side, Siren, Tex, and Maverick waited as well. We were all armed as a precaution, each with our own knives. On operations like this, we didn’t like to use guns—they were noisy,
and messy, and drew attention from law enforcement that we’d be better off without.

  Coop started cussing to himself and pacing anxiously.

  Nearly a half-hour after the agreed upon time, two bikes rumbled into the parking lot. The men stepped toward Coop as soon as the dismounted.

  “Heya, fellas. Smoke?” Coop held the pack out. The Vipers didn’t respond or move. “Okay, cool, non-smokers. It’s bad for your health anyway. So, I hear you’ve got some cool new drugs for me to share at the clubs. They’ll get me laid, right? Right? … Not even a smile, guys?”

  The two Vipers were low-level guys with unkempt hair and dark circles under their eyes. Probably users of their own supply—just like the Viper’s Nest to send out the bottom-of-the-barrel members to do their dealings. One Viper reached into his jacket’s inner pocket. I tensed.

  Coop tensed, too, and his hand flitted to his back pocket, where he had a knife stashed.

  But, as promised, it was a new supply of the same small baggies of drugs we’d pulled from the dealer at Club Rage.

  “Very neat,” Coop said. He snatched the bag from their hands. “So what’s market rate on these little guys? Oh, and I got a portable card reader to accept credit payments, is that cool?”

  The Vipers blinked slowly and confusedly at Coop.

  Then all five of us stepped out of the shadows and surrounded them. The two guys didn’t look surprised. I chalked that up to them having melted their brains with recreational bath salts. They faced us and drew their own weapons.

  I approached the bigger guy with my knife drawn. I flipped it casually from hand to hand. “Hey, boys,” I said. “Nice effort, but you’re outnumbered.”

  The Viper spat at my feet. “Blade.”

  “So my reputation precedes me, huh?”

  “Something like that.”

  “You wanna tell me why the Viper’s Nest thinks they can come into my territory with dirty drugs?”

  The Viper barked a laugh. “Won’t be your territory for very long.”

  More bikes peeled into the parking lot, revving their engines. They encircled us, spinning their wheels and kicking up gravel dust into a thick cloud.