Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98992 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
It’s earlier.
Cleaner.
Purer.
Only the sounds of the janitorial staff working diligently can really be heard.
In his small corner office, I have a seat in one of the chairs across from his desk.
My eyes waste no time roaming around the black and silver decorations or drinking in the emblem of a skull wearing an old knight style helmet.
I know that logo.
These colors.
They belong to the Silver Guard Motorcycle Club.
And from the photos hanging on his wall behind him, it appears he still has a strong sodality with them.
For the first time since we’ve met, I can actually hear humor in his voice. “Scared, Collins?”
“Of you or your club?”
“Both.”
“I didn’t part with them on terrible terms.” A small shrug escapes. “I was nothing more than an errand boy for the Nevada branch. Got old ladies, fast food, and shit.”
“Did you know most errand boys for MCs die, Collins? Many by the President’s own hand.” His information has me checking the piece of jewelry he’s displaying today. “I’m a different sort of President though.”
“Wait. Y-Y-You’re the President of-”
“Yeah.” He lifts a hand to shut me up. “And we’re a different type of club. See, once upon a time, I rode with the ZD MC.”
Which is why he’s got the tatt.
“Thankfully, I was never patched past prospect. And more importantly, I got out before I couldn’t. I was young. Didn’t know shit. Didn’t add shit. I was nothing but a warm body in a new branch, so letting me go when shit was getting deep, wasn’t a big fucking loss. I moved states. Started over. Rode on my own. But it didn’t take long for me to realize I fucking missed being in a club. Having that family. That brotherhood. So, I started my own shit. Decided I wanted to do shit different. Stand for something else. From day one, I have let all other clubs know we are not in their battle for territory. We just wanna ride. Make the community better. Give people who need it a second chance in life. The club does non-profit work to help keep its doors open and we all have legal jobs in which we use to help pay our yearly dues. It was a lot of work to get this shit up and running but has been worth every minute.”
Folding my hands together I lean forward, intrigued to see where this is going.
“You’re being given a chance to start over, Collins. Take it. Rebuild your life into something better. Make a better family for you to live in. Make a better future. Make this shit count.”
I slowly nod my understanding.
“I don’t take many cases here. Most aren’t worth the paperwork.”
Doesn’t surprise me.
“Typically, I lead seminars and exercises and trainings to teach those that counsel how to be better at what they do. And the only cases I take myself are the ones everyone else has given up on. The ‘lost causes’ that I believe really wanna fucking actually change. I only take cases that I deem will be worth the time I have to spend here away from my daughters. Don’t make me regret my choice to help you, Collins. Silver Guard MC’s first basic principle is do not fuck with our family.”
Astounded, I merely nod again. “Understood.”
“Good,” Doc replies prior to pushing a blank piece of paper at me. “I don’t wanna talk to you today.”
Irritation threatens to kick in.
“You've done enough talking. Enough purging. You need one final moment of closure and here it is.”
Confusion doesn’t hesitate to replace the previous emotion.
“You will write a letter to Blue Dream. Do not fill it with fluff and long-winded sentiments. Don’t make it like you’re tryin’ to be Shakespeare or some shit. Be direct. Be precise. And say your final words of peace. Afterward, you will put it in an envelope and address it to her to the best of your ability. You will hand it to me, and I will hand you a copy of your release papers.”
My eyebrows furrow. “And if I don’t?”
“Then your time here is incomplete. Wasted. And you have broken the first principal that rules my life.”
A mixture of terror and turmoil tear through me alike.
“But you’ll do it. You’re not the same asshole I first met.”
I pick up the pen just as he places the cigarette box down beside me.
With a piece of the past taunting me and the key to my future in my hand, I do what’s long overdue.
I take control of my life with no intention of ever letting it go again.
Chapter 14
Presley
“I know, Mom,” I sigh as I sit down at the very table that I grew up eating at.
“Stop telling me ‘you know’ and just actually come home for dinner this weekend.”
“Sunday.”
She places my random mail that still gets sent here since it’s the address on my driver’s license – something I really should fix one of these days – down in front of me at the same time she asks, “Sunday will be perfect. I’ll dust off the UNO cards.”