Breaking the Rules (Pushing the Limits, #1.5)(116)

“You promised you’d wear your helmet,” Mom whispers.

“I wasn’t on my bike,” he replies simply.

Mom pales out, and I focus solely on Eli. He holds my stare as I state the obvious. “The run went bad.”

Jacking trucks for the cargo inside is a moneymaker for hustlers, and the security company is good at keeping hustlers on their toes. But sometimes the company comes up against the occasional * who thinks they can be badass by pulling a gun.

“Someone tried to hit us during a break at a truck stop, but we were smarter.” Eli jerks his thumb in Dad’s direction. “But some of us aren’t as fast as others.”

“Go to hell,” Dad murmurs as Mom cleans the wound.

“You should have reported it,” Mom says.

A weighted silence settles in the room, and Mom’s lips thin out. The security business is as thick as the club. Business in both areas stays private. Everyone is on a need-to-know basis, me and Mom included...that is until I patch in. I’ll likely learn more when I’m initiated as a prospect, and I’m counting down the days until I’m officially part of the larger whole.

“He okay?” Eli asks.

“You of all people should know how hardheaded he is,” Mom responds. Eli’s a few years younger than my parents, but the three of them have been a trio of trouble since elementary school. “I believe everyone has a wake to attend in the morning, so I suggest sleep.”

That’s as subtle as Mom will get before she’ll stick a pointed steel-toed boot up their asses. Everyone says some sort of goodbye to Mom and Dad, but my parents are too lost in their own world to notice.

“Walk me out, Oz?” Eli inclines his head to the door, and we head onto the front porch. The muggy night air is thick with moisture, and a few bugs swarm around the porch light.

Eli digs into his leather jacket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He cups his hand to his mouth as he lights one. “We need you out on the road.”

“They told me they’ll send my official diploma next week.” I was supposed to walk at graduation tomorrow, but Olivia’s wake is the priority. Not caps and gowns. “You tell me when to start, and I’m ready to go.”

“Good.” He cracks a rare grin. “Heard that we might be adding a new prospect this weekend.”

The answering smile spreads on my face. Becoming a prospect is the initiation period before the club votes on my membership. I’ve been waiting for this moment my entire life.

Eli sucks in a long drag and the sleeve of his jacket hitches up, showing the trail of stars tattooed on his arm. “Keep an eye on your dad. He cracked the hell out of his head when he hit the pavement. Blacked out for a bit but then shot to his feet. When his bike began swerving, I made him pull over and double with me.”

“He must have loved that,” I say.

“Practically had to put a gun to his head.” Eli breaths out smoke.

“Was it the RMC?” The Riot Motorcycle Club. They’re an illegal club north of here. I’ve heard some of the guys talk when they think no one else is listening, saying that our peace treaty with them is fracturing.

Eli flicks ashes then focuses on the burning end of the cigarette. “As I said, we need you on the road.”

Our club and the Riot have had an unsteady alliance from the start. We stay on our side of the state, they stay on theirs. The problem? A new client that the business has contracted with resides in the Riot’s territory.

“This stays between us,” says Eli. “This new client we signed is skittish and doesn’t want the PR related to possible truck-jackings. We need this business, and I need people I can trust with those loads. I need you in.”

“Got it.” I throw out the question, not sure if Eli will answer. “You had his back, didn’t you? You knew there was going to be trouble so you pushed Dad to the ground.”

A hint of a smirk plays on his lips, and he hides it with another draw. He blows out the smoke and flicks the cigarette onto the ground. “Be out here at six in the morning. I’ll pick you up in the truck and we’ll go get your dad’s bike before the wake. I want him to sleep in.”

Hell, yeah. “You going to let me drive his bike home?”

“Fuck, no. I’m bringing you along to drive the truck back. No one touches a man’s bike, and in desperate situations only another brother can. You know better than that.” Eli pats my shoulder. “See you tomorrow, and be dressed for the wake when I pick you up.”

Eli starts his bike and rocks kick up as he drives off. I watch until the red taillight fades into the darkness. Through the screen door, I spot my mother still tending to my father. She uses special care as she tapes gauze to his head.

Mom smoothes the last strip of medical tape to his skin and when she goes to close the kit, Dad tucks a lock of her hair behind her ear. They stare at each other, longer than most people can stand, then she lays her head on his lap. Dad bends over and kisses her temple.

They need a moment together and, having nothing but time, I sit on the top step and wonder if I’ll find someone who will understand and accept this life like my mother. Mom loves Dad so much that she’ll take on anything. His job, this life and even the club. Maybe I’ll be that lucky someday.





Copyright ? 2015 by Katie McGarry