Biker's Virgin

“You look like you belong here,” Devon pointed out. “You look like you could be part of this lifestyle. Which is only funny because you hate it so much.”

I frowned. “I don’t… hate it.”

“No?” Devon asked, with raised eyebrows.

I smiled as he entered the ring and sat down by the ropes. I joined him on the floor and set my dagger down. “Well, there are aspects of it that I still don’t like much,” I admitted. “But I think living with your guys these last couple of weeks… it’s made me realize certain things.”

“Like what?”

“Like maybe this kind of living isn’t all about fights and violence and big dick contests with rival clubs,” I conceded. “There’s a sense of camaraderie and brotherhood that even I can feel. You guys band together for each other. You guys are there for each other.”

“That is the point,” Devon nodded.

“I guess I just didn’t get it because I had only the stereotypes to fall back on,” I said. “And maybe… I was being a little judgmental.”

“A little?” Devon asked, raising his eyebrows.

I laughed. “Ok, fair enough. I was really judgmental. But I’m man enough to admit that I was wrong.”

Devon nodded. “I wish that I had some good news to tell you,” he said. “But unfortunately, we still haven’t been able to dig up anything on Walter Black… or whoever his real name is.”

“It’s so weird,” I said, shaking my head. “I went to the police right after he almost tried to kill me. The cop kept me waiting for hours, and when he got back to me, he said that Walter had already cleared out of the apartment.”

“That’s when you decided to call me?”

“Yes,” I nodded. “It didn’t feel like the cop I spoke to even wanted to help me.”

“He didn’t,” Devon said. “He wanted to help the other guy.”

I frowned. “Walter?”

“It’s the only explanation that makes sense,” Devon nodded. “How else would Black have known to have clear out so soon after you left? By the time I went by his apartment, he had disappeared completely. The cop you spoke to would have tipped him off.”

“But how—”

“Half the cops have been bought by Godwin,” Devon told me. “And you stumbled across one of his guys.”

“Fuck,” I sighed. “Just my luck.”

“I wish you had called me first without going to the police,” Devon said. “We handle our business without getting the cops involved.”

“It’s not like they’re much involved anymore,” I pointed out, to which Devon nodded. “But in any case… I didn’t think I could call you.”

“What do you mean?”

“We were never exactly close, Devon,” I pointed out.

“Fuck that,” he said. “We’re family. Family doesn’t have to be ‘close.’ We still show up when the shit hits the fan.”

I smiled and nodded. “I’ll remember that the next time. In any case… I think we qualify as close now.”

“You think?” Devon asked, with a small smile.

“I think so,” I nodded, bumping into him from the side in a gesture of familial affection.

His smile grew a little wider. He may have been my brother, but there was so much I still didn’t know about Devon. There was so much I hadn’t even bothered to ask him because I had been so wrapped up in my own shit.

“Devon?”