Leave a Trail (Signal Bend #7)(149)

Tonight, his first night back in the Keep, was Isaac’s official welcome home, and the old ladies and kids were arriving for a supper after the meeting and before the real party started. Show had told him that Horde parties were again a thing of legend. With so much young blood at the table, there was more of everything, and some Fridays the place about burst at the seams. Tuck and Rose Olsen had started taking Friday nights off, closing up the bar, leaving the night to the Horde. They were pushing or past seventy, and glad for the break.

It all made Isaac’s mind boggle and his bones feel old. But for now, before the meeting, things were fairly quiet. Just women getting ready, Prospects—he’d have to learn their names—stocking the bar, and Horde draining the stock.

Len came and sat next to him at the bar. “How you holdin’ up, brother?”

“Good. It’s been a strange week.”

“Yeah. It’s been pushing on a month for me, and it’s still strange. Good, but…strange.”

“Yeah. Like the Twilight Zone version of everything.”

Len just nodded and tossed back a shot of Jack. “Show talk to you yet?”

Isaac and Show had talked several times. Almost daily. But not of anything that seemed particularly significant.

“You mean about taking on a crew?” Show had asked him to lead an interior construction crew. Most of the Horde were on the SBC payroll, and Isaac needed a day job for his parole. He was still getting used to not leading the club. It had been years since he had, but in a way, it felt like it had been only a few days. He might as well have been cryogenically frozen since the day he’d gone away.

“Nah. I’ll let him tell you.”

“Okay.” Curious, but not about to push the point, he lifted his glass toward the top of Len’s head and changed the subject. “You left some fuzz.” For years before prison, Len had kept his head smoothly shaved.

In prison, he’d let his hair grow to a few inches’ length. Now, he had a tightly cropped pate, but not baby-smooth. A dust of grey over his head.

“Tash likes it.” He laughed. “It’s easier, too.”

“You think we can relax yet?” He’d been struggling to lose the sense of self-guarding that was an imperative inside—and had been part of his previous life in Signal Bend, too.

“I do. Look around, Isaac.” Len had finally stopped calling him ‘boss.’ “Our family is safe. Straight money is comin’ in. Our town is solid. There’s no need to cross the line, so we’re good. We can rest. It’s time to rest. Enjoy life while we can still ride our road.”

Isaac nodded and waved his empty glass at a Prospect. This one had some bird name. Budgie? Robin?

“Another for me, too, Parrot.”

Ah. Parrot. Stupid f*cking name. He wondered whose idea that had been.

As he took a swig from his glass, he looked over to watch the club girls—so much young booty around.

Damn. He felt like a grandpa. Yeah, he’d like to rest and enjoy his life. Ride until his back finally gave it up.

Fuck Lilli as long as he could get hard. Ride horses with Gia. Work wood with Bo. Live his life.

“Talk to you, Isaac?” Show had come up on Isaac’s other side.

“Sure, boss.”

Show shook his head. “Don’t do that.” He turned to the Prospect. “Parrot—just a Bud.”

As Show sat next to Isaac, Len got up. “See you in the Keep, brothers. I’m gonna find my old lady.”

When they were essentially alone, at the bar, anyway, Show said. “Been workin’ on something, and I want your vote on it.”

“Okay.”

Show turned away from Isaac and stared at his new bottle of Bud. “In the Keep, tonight, I’m passing the gavel.”

Rage Isaac stormed into his head, making his eyes pulse. “What the f*ck? Show, you son of a—”

Show held up his hand, turning again to face Isaac straight on. “Hold on and listen. I’m passing to Badge. He’s already talked to the officers he wants. It’s known that this has been a plan. The vote’ll go the right way. But you’re a f*ckin’ legend around here, and if you balk, that could send the vote sideways. I don’t want that to happen. I want to take a seat next to you. That’s where I belong. If you want the gavel back, I’d take that seat next to you. The one I had. And not one vote would go against you. Badge wouldn’t want it if you did. If you want the gavel, it’s yours. Do you?”

Isaac swallowed down his Jack and waved Parrot away when he came back to refill. He thought about that. Did he want to lead again? Was he fit? He’d asked himself that question over and over during the dark years. He’d always had the full faith and trust of his club. He’d never made a unilateral decision. And yet he had led them into mayhem. Whether he had done so as a good leader or not was irrelevant to Isaac. He had been the vanguard, and they had swum in blood.

It was more than that, though. He didn’t know the town like he had. He didn’t even know the club like he had. Everything was different, and he wasn’t sure yet where he fit. He couldn’t lead from a place of disorientation.

And most of all, he was done. He was weary. He wanted his quiet life. He wanted to ride his bike and f*ck his wife and raise his kids and… “No. I don’t. My time was the past. But Show, you’ve done great with the gavel. The club is stronger than ever. Why pass it now?”