Leave a Trail (Signal Bend #7)(125)

He wanted to meet with his brothers in the Keep to talk about town business; he wanted to go on runs with destinations to look forward to—rallies instead of wars. He wanted to get drunk and party and not worry whether it would be the last time.

Because it was Nolan’s birthday party as well as the day he became a Prospect, the old ladies and kids were there at first, too. There was cake, and people had brought presents. It was Lilli’s first time back in the clubhouse since the January day Isaac had gone away. In the few months since Show had taken the President’s patch and Isaac had gone away, Shannon had stepped into the role of clubhouse first lady, managing the women and events like this party. Badger thought he saw Lilli struggling a little with the new dynamic, no longer at the head of the women. Not in any overt, hostile way—she simply looked a little lost sometimes. She was a natural leader, unused to following. It was a good thing, he thought, that she and Shannon were so close. He had no idea what went on in the kitchen, and he didn’t really care to know. But he knew something about Lilli. She wouldn’t make a fuss, but she was having trouble.

After the cake and presents—Nolan got a mountain of t-shirts with dirty sayings and jokey junk like that, as well as more serious gifts like mechanic’s tools and a vintage Harley sign—Badger checked on Adrienne, who was sitting with Cory and Tasha. She was content, and it would be another hour or more before things would shift into roughhouse gear, so he let her be. He waved his empty bottle at Candy. As he waited for her to bring him a fresh beer, he looked around for Nolan and didn’t see him. After he had a new cold brew in his hand, he went looking.

He was in the bays, all the lights on, with Havoc’s Softail uncovered. That bike was so Havoc, all the way to the ape-hangers. It made Badger grin to see it, even as his stomach tightened.

Nolan’s bike—the one he and Havoc had started and he and Badger had finished and brought here, to wait for his birthday, because he didn’t want to ride it until he had a kutte of his own—was parked right next to Havoc’s, also uncovered. 1972 Harley Sportster Ironhead, all black and chrome. Across the top of the tank, using airbrush skills he’d taught himself just for this project, Nolan had painted the words Wreaking Havoc in the vivid red that, with black and silver, were the Horde’s colors. The sides of the tank he’d left blank, hoping to have the privilege of adding a Horde tag to it someday. Maybe on his next birthday.

Nolan was standing between the two bikes, a beer in his hand. He looked up as Badger approached.

“What’s up, bud?”

Nolan shrugged. “I don’t really like parties when they’re for me. Too much attention. It’s cool—I don’t mean to be a dick. Just got kinda freaked.”

“I get that. I don’t think anybody noticed.” He huffed a laugh. “No offense.”

“S’okay. I’m glad. I needed a minute.”

Badger stepped back. “I’ll get out of here, then.”

“No. You can stay.”

“Okay.” They stood quietly, Nolan’s eyes on the bikes, Badger’s on Nolan.

“I don’t think I want to ride Hav’s bike. Not even after I get patched.”

“No?” That surprised him. That goal had seemed to drive Nolan—to step into Havoc’s place in the club, to try to fill the hole that had been left.

“No. Feels wrong. This bike shouldn’t be anybody’s but Hav’s. Ever. He built the perfect bike for him. I never want anybody to think of it as mine.” He brushed his hand over the new leather of the seat on his own Sportster. “He bought this for me. This is the only bike I want to ride.”

Badger looked past him at the row of Horde bikes. The row was too long—not only Havoc’s bike, but Isaac’s bike, and Len’s. Mikey’s, Omen’s, Dan’s. The bike of every Horde patch who had fallen or gone away in the service of the club, standing like silent sentries. Four patch deaths, not counting the traitors who would never count. Three Prospects, as well. In six years. Two men doing hard time.

Yeah. Badger wanted a quiet life.

“I think it’s right, Nolan. You know nobody would hold you up, once you’re patched, if you want to take on Hav’s bike. But you’re right. I look at that machine and can still see him on it, riding down 44, so fast his exhaust is practically on fire, grinning like a psycho.”

“I miss him every day. Still. It’s been a year and a half, longer than I even knew him, but it still f*ckin’

hurts.”

“I know, man. I’m sorry.”

Nolan shrugged again. “I don’t think I want it to stop. It’s kinda like he’s still around, he’s in my head so much.”

Badger had no response, but he understood. They stood silently for a few minutes more, then Nolan sighed. “Okay. I guess I should go back out there before my mom starts to think I’m back in the dorm gettin’ laid.”

“Are you? Not right now, I mean, but…you gettin’ laid?”

Nolan grinned. “Dude. I hang out here a lot. I’m not a monk.” The swagger in that statement was compromised a little by his bright blush.

“Good for you. And wrap. Every. Fucking. Time.”

“I do. I will. I’m not a moron, either.”



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