HARD KNOX(16)

“Fuck this,” Matteo said. He threw his cards into the middle of the table. “I’m out of cash for the night.”

“Saving his last twenty for the titty bar,” Noah said and laughed.

“Eat shit, Noah,” Matteo said. “Night’s too young to blow my cash and not my load.”

“Damn,” I said. “Those are true words, brother. You should get that painted on a wooden sign and hang it above your couch in the living room. You know? That would look good.”

Now we all started laughing.

Shit, this was what it had become. Me and six guys, sitting, playing cards. There was a seventh chair at the table, but it was left empty. I glanced to the chair, nodding with a deep sense of respect. Our other boy, King, ended up on death row.

Not to mention my old man was serving a life sentence too. He wasn’t on death row but he had no shot at parole.

That’s what happens to a MC when the ground gets shaken and breaks open. We had been set up a while ago and shit just hit the fan. While things broke apart, the core of us stuck together. We kept the garage open the best we could. Our repair work wasn’t the bulk of the business.

Protection was.

We had contacts from Reno to Tijuana, shit, all the way up into Washington state and into Canada. If someone needed product moved and product protected to move, we were the guys to do it. The Reap would live on. We had most of the PD in our back pocket and we still enjoyed the outlaw rambling life.

Still, it wasn’t the same without my old man at the head of the table, right there in church, smacking the gavel, bellowing orders at us.

“Hey,” Ari said, “we got four cars in today. Getting a little busy again.”

“That’s good,” I said. “Just keep the straight business straight and the rest underground. We’re doing fine, guys.” I took my earnings and held them up. “I’m doing really fine tonight.”

“I heard some rumblings, brother,” Liam said. He sipped a glass of whiskey and leaned forward. “There’s noise all around that the family is looking to make another push into town.”

The family were the people that * Porter ran with. They were deeply connected, all the way back to Brooklyn, New York. They were part of the reason the MC took heat, but generally we were all peaceful. They had a different view on their sense of freedom than what we had. We rarely crossed paths. Well, unless you counted me and Ana… and the fact that she was with Porter.

I slammed my fist down, pissed off. “I don’t want to hear any of that shit again. They won’t come through here. What can they do? Knock it all down and put up condos?”

“That’s exactly what they can do,” Elijah said.

“Fuck me,” Slam said. “Last thing we need is that bullshit.”

“It won’t happen,” I said. “They’re smarter than that. They’d have too much to manage. As long as they get their access to the city to skim the edge of what they want, they’re fine. Plus, everyone knows they hide out here. It’s a safe zone for them. Why bring attention to it?”

“True,” Matteo said. “But we need to keep our eyes open. I don’t like when they get together and talk.”

“What about you?” Ari asked me. “You know your girl’s sort of connected.”

“Hey,” I snapped. “Listen to me, motherf*cker. Ana is not connected. I don’t want to hear that talk at my table.”

“Your table,” Slam said.

“My goddamn table,” I said and I stood up.

Suddenly, there was a fire inside me. I walked to the back of the garage and opened the storage closet. That’s where all the leather cuts were hanging. I reached for mine and peeled it off the hanger. I turned and held it up.

Everyone at the table looked shocked as hell.

“What are you doing?” Slam asked.

“I’m putting this cut back on,” I said.

“You can’t do that,” Matteo said. “Not without a vote. Not without Uncle Jakey. Shit, you need to talk to your old man.”

I slid my arms into the leather cut.

Son of a bitch, it felt right. It was like kissing Ana. What I was meant to f*cking do in life. I pulled at the lapels and looked to the patches I had earned. I was damn close to becoming the enforcer for the MC. I was on the verge of pushing forward into a spot that would let me rise up as high as I wanted. Sergeant at Arms? VP? Hell, the f*cking President of the Reaper’s Bastards?

None of that mattered now though.

This was about right now.

In my mind, I couldn't stop thinking about Ana. The shit that Danny guy pulled, all of it tied to Porter and the family. It wasn’t going to fly anymore in my town.

“All of you,” I said. “Get your cuts back on. We take the night right now. I’ll set up a meet with Uncle Jakey and I’m due for a visit to the old man anyway.”

To my surprise, everyone listened to me.

We were then standing in the garage, all in our leather cuts, looking out to the night. And it felt really good. The town was falling apart. The economy never recovered and we were basically the runoff for the city shit. But the town still had purpose. People needed to be protected and we were going to do it.

All of this fire kicked up inside me because I had seen Ana again. Somewhere inside me I had secretly hoped she would end up out of this place. Find a decent enough guy who would support and give her everything she ever wanted. But she stayed in town. She was trapped.