Rock flashes a tight smile in return. “You do more than okay, knucklehead.”
Wrath exhales a long, noisy, annoyed breath. “We done with the circle jerk?”
“It’s okay, buddy. You’re good at stuff too.” Z scratches the side of his head. “Give me a second and I’ll think of something.”
Murphy busts up laughing and reaches over to tap his knuckles against Z’s.
“Careful, Ginger Yeti,” Wrath rumbles. “I haven’t decided how I want to torture you at Furious yet today.”
Murphy crosses his arms over his chest and flashes his best do-your-worst smirk. “I ain’t scared of you.”
I cough-laugh into my fist. That wasn’t the case when I went inside.
Rock raps his knuckles against the table. “We’re not done yet.”
Wrath turns toward me, all serious now. “Brother, you can stay at our place as long as you like.”
Murphy raises his hand. “Our place is always open to you, too, if you get tired of watching Wrath run around in his underwear.”
“Joke’s on you.” Wrath smirks. “I don’t wear underwear around the house.”
Z cringes. “For fuck’s sake. Why’d you have to plant that image in my head?”
Rock casts a glance around the table. “Can we stay on track, please?”
“You’ve got your ‘official’ address for parole but we want you to have a place of your own here.” Wrath points to the ceiling.
“Well, shit.” I glance at the door. “I still haven’t even seen the upstairs yet.”
“You’ll be next door to me,” Dex says.
“So you’ll have plenty of peace and quiet,” Z quips.
Dex shoots a glare at Z. “You say that like standards are a bad thing.”
“That’s because he didn’t know what they were until he met Lilly,” Teller adds with a devilish grin.
Z giggles like a kid. “Ain’t even gonna bother denying it.”
“Oh, brother,” I mutter.
“They can keep it up all day.” Rock knocks his knuckles against the table and stands. “Before we go, I need to give you something.”
Longing unfurls in my chest as Rock reaches into a closet and pulls out a handful of black leather that can only be one thing. It’s stiff and new. Not the cut I wore before my incarceration. Rock knows me well. I don’t want to reclaim that old life. I want to start a new one, fresh from the bitter memories of the past.
Our skull in the center patch is slightly different than I remember. More detailed, the blues and grays of our colors more vibrant.
“We’ll get you the rest of your patches,” Z says softly. “And your bottom rocker.”
“But we wanted you to have that now,” Rock adds. “I know you can’t wear it outside of the clubhouse for now—”
“Doesn’t matter.” I clutch the leather in my hands. “Thank you.”
Wrath rests his hand on my shoulder. “Let’s go.”
“Is everyone trailing along?” I ask, turning to stare at each brother.
“Sure.” Teller taps my arm. “Why not? Family field trip.”
“Upstairs?” Murphy raises an eyebrow.
“It’s my old room,” Wrath says.
“Trinity and Lilly fixed it up,” Z adds.
“Go on.” Rock pats my back. “I need to check in with Sparky.”
“I’ll be out in the garage.” Murphy nudges my arm. “Come see me when you’re done?”
“Sure.”
Teller and Dex end up following him. Thank fuck. I don’t need everyone watching me like I’m a kid at camp getting his bunk assignment.
Wrath leads the way up the stairs. The landing’s wide enough to accommodate an old motorcycle. “That Lucky’s?” I ask.
“Yeah.” Z rests his hand on the seat. “Seemed like the right place for it.”
I glance around at the high ceilings and sturdy wood beams. “He would’ve liked this place a lot.”
They both nod and I suffer a pang of guilt. They’ve had lots of time to move on from the past while I’ve been sitting in limbo, nursing my pain for years.
Photographs line the wall up the stairs. Each one another phantom punch to the gut. Lucky and me outside Crystal Ball. Brothers at their patch-in parties. The old clubhouse. Birthdays. Biker rallies. Parties. They seem to be in chronological order. Lost Kings MC history, frozen in time. Closer to the top of the stairs are wedding photos. Hope’s in a green dress and Rock’s in a suit, posed against an autumn backdrop. I stop and tap one of the photos.
“You two get married up at Fletcher Park?” I ask Wrath.
His mouth curves into a smile, like it’s one of his favorite memories. “Sure did.”
I scowl at another photo. “Where the hell did Heidi and Murphy get married? That’s one hell of an ugly chapel. And why does he look like a shaved ape?”
Z chuckles. “After all the crap they went through, neither of them gave a shit about the trivial stuff.”
“Where’s yours?” I ask Z.
“He skunked us and eloped,” Wrath says.
Z taps another photo of what has to be more than several charters crowded in together in front of a bar with Z and Lilly at the center. “Here’s the wedding party they sprung on us.” He taps the frame again. “That’s the downstate clubhouse.”