I didn’t care that the work was dangerous. If this was what Blade wanted me to do for the club, I’d do it, no questions asked. I’d do it gladly.
“It’s a probationary period for you, first,” Blade said. “Three months. I believe you when you say you’ve changed—but I want to see it, too.”
“Understood,” I said. “It’s fair—more than fair. Thank you. For the chance to prove myself.”
“It was Priest’s idea,” Blade said. “You should be thanking him.”
Priest nodded and clapped me on the shoulder companionably. “I thought it’d be best for you to have something to focus on now that you’re out. And it’ll be a good way for you to show us you’re committed.”
My chest twisted hard. I was energized—heated through with a new sense of purpose and determination. Blade and Priest had given me exactly what I hadn’t known I needed: a way to reconnect with the club, and give them the backup they needed at a time when enforcing was particularly dangerous. A clear way for me to start making up for my past fuck-ups.
“So you’re in?” Gunnar asked.
“Of course.” I stood up to shake Gunnar’s hand—as sergeant-at-arms, he was now, technically, my boss.
He grinned and pulled me into a rough half-hug. “Good man. We’ll get you caught up and start you on rounds. Find you a use for all those new prison muscles.”
I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t dispel the grin on my face. “Happy to help.”
“All right, that’s all I’ve got for you for now,” Blade said with a fond shake of his head. “Get out of here, I’ve got to go over Ballast’s books.”
I nodded and thanked them all again. I was reeling from this development, and the enforcer patch burned in my pocket like a brand. I wouldn’t let them down, not any one in the club. This was a second chance for me—one I didn’t deserve, and one I wasn’t going to fuck up.
I stepped out of the office, so caught up in my own head that I collided right into Tex.
Tex
I paced back and forth outside the office, chewing anxiously on my lower lip. I couldn’t hear what Blade was saying to Jazz through the heavy door of the office—of course the only thick wall in the entire clubhouse was the only one I wanted to hear through.
What if Blade didn’t want Jazz back in the club?
I knew that was a ridiculous thought—if that were the case, he wouldn’t have thrown the welcome home party. But what if I’d misread the whole situation, and the party was more about my promotion, and now Blade was going to ask Jazz to back off from club business? What if I’d misled Jazz?
I pinched the bridge of my nose. Blade wouldn’t do that. He was a fair president, and he knew the reality of being in the club meant that sometimes we ended up on the wrong side of the law. Jazz would have to pay his dues to the club and toe the line, but he wouldn’t be kicked out.
I rubbed my palm against the new road captain patch over my heart. If I truly believed Blade would do something like kick Jazz out for a stupid mistake, I wouldn’t have accepted the role. I wouldn’t be part of a club like that at all. I was just anxious—anxious that somehow I’d lose Jazz again.
Because I didn’t think I could bear the loss a second time.
Hell’s Ankhor were our brothers, though, and Blade wouldn’t turn Jazz away. The fresh stitching of the road captain patch under my palm sent a rush of pride through me. When Jazz and I had shown up in Elkin Lake eight years ago, we’d had nothing but our shitty old bikes and the clothes on our back. And now I was road captain of the enforcers, trusted to protect my brothers when they needed it.
Who would’ve thought the hotheaded kid from Texas and his amber-eyed partner-in-crime would end up here, still together, after all this time?
The door opened. Jazz, looking a little distracted and dazed, walked right into me. He stumbled forward a little bit and caught himself with his palm flat on my chest. I steadied him, wrapping both my hands around his biceps.
His eyes met mine, and I searched his face, as if I could find out what happened in Blade’s office without asking. I tightened my grip on his arms—I felt strangely possessive, like now that he’d had that meeting without me, I