Tack looked to the chair that had been vacated by Carson Steele.
Tack had fucked up years ago. He’d seen it in the man’s eyes as he’d sat down across from him, among the brothers he wanted to make his brothers, casting his lot to become a recruit of the Chaos MC.
Nothing in those eyes but secrets.
Yeah, Tack had fucked up. They all had. They’d seen the kid hanging around. They saw him do it a lot. Too much.
They should have taken him in.
Shit was swirling, they didn’t have the time.
Then he’d disappeared.
Tack hadn’t forgotten. None of them had.
They all had their reasons for joining the brotherhood.
And they read those reasons years ago in Carson Steele.
Too late, Tack had looked into it. And he hadn’t liked what he’d found.
This was why he turned his head, locked eyes with Brick, and asked, “Jefferson Steele?”
“Same house, three miles away, same asshole as ever,” Brick answered.
“Our guy have anything to do with his old man?” Tack went on.
Embedded in his big, red beard, Brick’s lips twitched. He knew what Tack saying “our guy” meant.
Tack had made his decision.
The vote would follow.
“Haven’t been there ’round the clock, but from what the brothers have seen since he made his first approach, nope,” Brick told him.
“You know where he’s been?” Tack asked.
Brick shook his head.
“Brother,” Hound cut in and Tack looked his way. “You want any info, you ask. He wants his patch, he’ll tell.”
“Don’t make a man like that share his secrets,” Tack muttered.
Hound nodded. He knew that to be true.
“Saw his work and it’s fuckin’ top notch,” Hop put in, and Tack gave his brother his attention. “He can build bikes and cars like that, we should take him on as brother just for him to make us a mint.”
“We don’t take on brothers because they can build bikes,” Big Petey stated.
“Then you haven’t seen his drawings,” Boz entered the conversation. “He could be a weak-ass runt still tied to his momma’s apron and I’d vote him brother, he could do those builds. They’re wild.” Boz looked to Tack. “They’re Chaos.”
“Lucky for us, he ain’t no weak-ass runt but looks like a man who’d carve your eyes out and do it smilin’, you looked at him funny,” High noted.
He wouldn’t do it smiling, Tack thought. The man didn’t smile. The man had a look about him that said he never had.
This troubled Tack.
And made him believe even more it was time to bring Chaos to Carson Steele’s life.
Brothers.
Bikes.
Belonging.
And, if he was lucky, he’d find a bitch who’d lay to waste that shield Carson Steele had up and bring him bliss.
“More talk, or vote?” Tack asked the table.
“Got nothin’ to say, he’s got my vote,” Hop said.
“Had my vote when he was watchin’ from the fence,” Dog muttered.
“He’s in for me,” Boz added.
Pete, High, Arlo, Hound, and Brick weighed in the same.
As it had to be, it was unanimous when Tack grabbed the gavel and lowered it.
“Preliminary vote done, call the rest of the brothers. The vote stays true, we got ourselves a new recruit,” Tack announced.
Boz pushed back his chair, his hand to his pocket to grab his phone.
Brick leaned forward to nab the bottle of tequila. Men started shooting the shit.
Tack felt Dog’s eyes and looked to the man sitting to his right.
“Warm, red blood flows in Chaos veins, brother,” Dog said quietly. “That boy’s got nothin’ but ice. Stone cold.”
“We’ll see,” Tack replied.
“We will but we got problems, Tack, the kind that get solved with loyalty, balls, and fire. Lived a fair bit a’ life. Done a lot. Seen a lot more. Still, I’d check I had my blade and my gun, I ran up against that guy in a bad mood in a dark alley. So I reckon he’s got the balls. But not sure he’s got the other two in him.”
“Time will tell,” Tack muttered.
“Boy’s got secrets,” Dog muttered back.
“Boy’s never had one thing in his life he wanted,” Tack replied. “We’re givin’ him that. First time. He’s twenty-fuckin’-five. First time, Dog. Now, we’ll see how that plays.”
“Brother’s got dark in him he don’t bother to hide, secrets he doesn’t share. With the problems we got, Tack, that makes me uneasy,” Dog stated.
“Had the vote, Dog, you had a problem, you should have opened your mouth,” Tack returned.
Dog shook his head. “Saw that kid watch us, just like you. Shoulda done something then. Don’t have it in me to turn him away now.”
“No one who doesn’t have fire walks three miles to watch men work on cars, Dog. And he wasn’t at that fence watchin’ men work on cars. He was at the shop window, empty pockets, face pressed to the glass, starin’ at what he wanted but couldn’t have. I’ll wager, to survive, he’s banked that fire. We gotta help him direct it and make sure if it flares bright, it doesn’t burn him out.”
Dog held Tack’s eyes. Then he nodded sharply and looked away.
The rest of the Club came in, had words, and voted.
It was unanimous.
Carson Steele was a recruit. A recruit that would shortly after be christened Joker.
And if he did his time, took his shit, proved his mettle…
He’d be Chaos.
*
It took him a year and three months.
And he did.
Chapter Two
All I Wanted
Carissa
“AARON, REALLY, I’M in a bind.”
I tried not to sound like I was begging. It didn’t feel good to beg.
But he’d heard me beg and I’d learned begging didn’t work.
“You bring Travis to my house in forty-five minutes or we’ve got problems, Carissa,” Aaron said in my ear and then disconnected.
I stood there in the filthy grass on the verge, looking down at the phone, my baby boy at my hip, the crawling rush hour traffic of Denver on I-25 in front of me? along with my old, ugly, worn out, mostly kinda still red Toyota Tercel with its flat tire.
Aaron, my ex-husband, drove a black Lexus SUV.
Aaron, my ex-husband, had also just refused to come and help me change the flat tire even though I had our son with me and I was on a stupid interstate during rush hour traffic.