I’d gotten to know this highway pretty well over the past few months. He’d never admit it, but I knew these runs were Cotton’s way of keeping me busy. He knew it’s what I needed right now. Giving up John Warren had almost broken me, and focusing all of my attention on the club was helping me reconcile with some of my demons. Today, he sent me to meet up with Nitro to handle the payment for this month’s shipment. He was waiting for me in the upstairs loft of an old warehouse. Each time we met, it was somewhere different… a bar, an apartment, or the back of an SUV. Nitro always made sure he covered his tracks, and Cotton trusted him. He was the only one that we dealt with when it came to the gun trafficking side of our club. He was older and had been around the block long enough to know a good deal when he saw it.
“You again? I’m beginning to think that you like coming to see me,” he said with a smirk, his dark eyes peering at me. His sarcasm didn’t go unnoticed, but I decided to ignore it. I learned a long time ago that Nitro was a smart ass, and it was best to keep things short. The last thing I needed was to mingle words with him today.
“Cotton wants the shipment doubled for next month. Is that going to be a problem?” I asked.
“Nope. Not a problem at all. I’ll take care of it,” he answered as he wrote himself a note and then shoved it into the back pocket of his jeans.
“I’ll let him know,” I said as I handed him the thick envelope full of cash. “This should settle us up for now.”
“Right on, brother. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you soon.”
I gave him a quick nod and headed back for my bike. As the miles back home blurred into one another, I found myself thinking about my younger brother, Gavin. I had been thinking about him a lot lately. It just hasn’t been the same since the day he left for Tennessee. I couldn’t stop thinking about the conversation we’d had about him leaving. It was a talk that I hadn’t been looking forward to having, but I knew it was inevitable. It was something we’d discussed several times over the past year. Gavin was bound and determined to follow my footsteps into the club life. It was getting harder and harder to put him off. Gavin is a good kid, and any club would be lucky to have him. But if he truly wanted to prospect for Satan’s Fury, he would have to wait until things settled down at the club. He’d need to have time to adjust before all hell broke loose, and rest assured – all hell would break loose.
When I pulled up in his driveway that day, he was in his workshop. As usual, he was covered in grease while he worked on his bike. Restoring old Harleys was his passion, and he’d spent every free minute he had out in his garage. For a twenty year old, he had a talent like no one I had ever known. He could take a piece of junk and turn it into a work of art in a matter of a few days.
“I was beginning to think you were going to blow me off again,” Gavin whispered under his breath, as he continued to disassemble the engine.
“Told you I’d be here. I had some things to take care of first.”
“Yeah…well, I’ve heard that before,” he grunted.
“You going to tell me what you wanted to talk about?” I asked as I walked over to the mini-refrigerator and got us both a beer. I twisted off the tops and placed one on the table next to him.
“Been thinking about a few things,” he said.
“This ought to be good,” I grumbled under my breath.
“Why do you do that? You know what… just forget it. I don’t need this shit from you right now. Just go,” he barked as he motioned towards the door.
“Just tell me what the hell you’ve been thinking about, Gavin.” I grabbed a wrench and started helping him remove the different screws that were corroded with rust and grime from the old engine.
He glared at me for a few seconds before he finally said, “I want to move to Tennessee.”
“What the hell are you talking about?” He’d caught me off guard. That was the last thing I expected to hear from him right now.
“I want to go prospect for the Devil Chasers.”
“Gavin,” I barked.
“Just hear me out before you fly off the handle. You told me that you didn’t want me prospecting for your club right now because of all the shit that’s going on. I get that, but I’ve heard you talk about Goliath and his club. You’ve said yourself that you liked being there. I’ve always wanted to have a place where I could work on bikes, and they’re known all over the country for the restorations they do. Prospecting for them makes sense,” he said sounding hopeful. “Besides, if I prospected at your club, I’d always be following under your shadow. I want a chance to make a name for myself… without all the bullshit.”
“It wouldn’t be like that, Gavin.”
“It would, and you know it. You’ve already made your mark on the club. I want to be able to do the same. Besides, being in Tennessee would also give me a chance to keep an eye on John Warren.”
“What makes you think they’ll even take you on? They don’t know a damn thing about you.”
“I was hoping that you’d talk to Goliath. Put in a good word for me.”
Fuck. I couldn’t believe what he was asking. The very thought of him prospecting for another club was difficult to digest, but one so far away made it impossible to comprehend. How the hell was I supposed help him leave? Deep down, I knew it was the perfect place for him to prospect, but the thought of losing him – my brother, the only link to my life before the club, was hard for me to accept. “You have to give me some time to think about this.”