I felt guilty being so absent from the club lately, especially when we were still reeling from the betrayal of three different members. Since Baxter, Ryder, and Trip had been excommunicated from the club, our numbers were brought down to merely twelve. Barely enough to call ourselves a club. But I knew that I was doing what I had to do to keep our club well-funded, and to keep relations good with Hell’s Ankhor—or at least, I was trying.
“Surprisingly well,” Dad said. “Those guys had been a drain for a while. I think everyone’s grateful to have them out of the picture, even if it’s a big loss in numbers. We’d love to see you around a little more, when you can.”
“Makes sense,” I said, ignoring the last part. I knew that Dad wasn’t trying to make me feel guilty—he genuinely meant it, and knew I’d be around when I could. “There was definitely some tension between those three and the rest of the club.”
It’d been simmering for a while, but whenever anyone brought it up, those three always shrugged it off or accused us of being paranoid. It was almost a relief to have my intuition about them proven right, even if it led to having to repair our relationship with Hell’s Ankhor. “Any word of them around the territory?”
“Not that I’ve heard,” Dad said. “They’re technically banned from not just our territory, but Hell’s Ankhor as well, so if they show up, there’ll be some retribution. But we don’t exactly have the manpower to run patrols through the entirety of Hell’s Ankhor’s territory right now, so we’re relying on our connections to other clubs to pass along word if they hear anything.”
“Nothing yet, though?”
“Nope. And it’ll stay that way if they know what’s good for them.”
“Damn right,” I agreed, thwacking a shaped loaf of dough on the bench for good measure.
“I’ll keep my ear to the ground for any whispers of those three,” Dad said. “You just keep doing what you’re doing.”
“What?” I asked. “Screwing up my friendship with my Hell’s Ankhor chaperone?”
“Oh, don’t beat yourself up, you’ll figure it out,” Dad said warmly. He patted me firmly on the shoulder, leaving behind a white floury handprint. “Just keep up the good work with the club, all right? This is gonna end up being a good thing for Hell’s Ankhor and the Crew. I’ve got a good feeling about it.”
“That makes one of us.” I finished shaping the last loaf. The work had gone a lot faster with Dad helping.
“You always were dramatic,” Dad said warmly. “You got anything else you need help with?”
“No, that’s it for the day,” I said. “Thanks, Dad. Really.”
I always felt better after I talked to him—he was grounded, and wise, and always made me feel like I could climb out of whatever hole I’d fallen in this time. And reminded me that I wouldn’t be climbing out of it alone.
“Course,” he said with a smile. “Proud of you, son. I’ll see you back at the clubhouse, all right?”
I nodded. Dad was right. Hiding out in the bakery wouldn’t fix anything. If I wanted to take care of Heath, the first thing I had to do was talk to him.
If only it were that easy.
11
Heath
I finished scanning a paragraph in my business textbook and realized that, for the third time, I’d absorbed exactly zero of the words on the page. With a sigh, I dragged my eyes back to the top of the chapter and started again.
It was a slow day at Custom Ankhs. There was plenty of work for Maverick and Jonah to do—the orders simply kept coming—but not a whole lot of foot traffic for me to field. On days like this, I often ended up studying behind the front desk if there wasn’t anything else for me to do in the shop. And today, the place was spotless, Maverick had all the help he needed with Tex on duty, and Jonah was busy working on sketches in his office with Grace in her playpen just outside it.
I didn’t mind days like this, though. The open concept of the shop gave it a friendly atmosphere, and behind me I could hear Maverick and Tex bantering as they worked on an engine together, with Jonah chiming in occasionally from his office. It was comfortable, homey, and something I’d never get tired of.
“Pretty nice to finally have a few quiet days in a row, huh, Heath?”