fake ID, also courtesy of the club. At first it was so he wouldn’t get taken into foster care if the cops ever asked for identification, but after he turned eighteen and was allowed to prospect, it became more for underage drinking with the boys. Buddha and the club had loved him, protected him, and bled for him. If that wasn’t the definition of family, he didn’t know what was.
And they were fifty miles away.
Shit, how the fuck had he ended up halfway to the Nebraska border?
Spotting a gas station up ahead, he decided to pull over for an energy drink. He’d gotten a second wind after going at it with Buddha, but exhaustion was starting to set in again. There was no better place than the open road, especially at night, but what the hell was he doing out here when he desperately needed sleep and had more than eight hours to spare for the first time in days?
After buying a drink and tossing it back in five seconds flat, Torch felt his phone vibrate. He pulled it out and saw Buddha’s number on the screen.
He picked up and grumbled, “Hey, man.”
“Where you at, son?”
“Sterling. What’s going on?”
“Nothing, I just wanted to… uh…” Buddha stammered. “Listen, I’m gonna give it a couple more weeks.”
“The meds and chemo?”
“Yeah,” Buddha muttered. “You were right, brother, we’re fighters. Giving up now and leaving you boys to clean up my mess like a fucking coward isn’t what I want my legacy to be.”
Wait. What? Torch had to pull the phone away from his ear and double-check the time because this was a first, Buddha had never backed down this quick. On anything. “What’s the catch?” he asked suspiciously.
Buddha sighed. “Look, I’ll do it for two more weeks so whoever wants to get tested can do that. I know why you keep refusing to give me your vote for retirement and I get it. So, we’ll do it your way. If there’s no match, at least you’ll know you did everything you could. And hey, maybe I’ll get lucky. Either way, I’m willing to suffer through the side effects a little longer to give you some peace of mind if I end up kicking the bucket.”
“You sure that’s the only reason?” Torch asked. His explanation made sense but there was something Buddha was holding back. The man always slept on big decisions, he didn’t all of a sudden have a change of heart from one hour to the next.
“Son, what the fuck?” Buddha asked incredulously. “I’m doing what you want and you’re still giving me shit?”
“Sorry,” Torch muttered, shaking it off. It didn’t matter why he’d changed his mind, just that he had. “I’m really glad to hear all this, man. I’ll call the other chapters and figure out where they can go to get tested.”
“Only if people want to,” Buddha reiterated. “I’m not expecting or begging for it. And Liv offered to handle the logistics, she’s good with all that.”
There it was, the missing link. “You told her?”
“Yeah. She saw you tear out of the clubhouse all pissed off, figured you’d tell her anyway.”
“So my old lady changed your mind—”
“I told you, I realized you were right,” Buddha cut him off.
Yeah, okay, whatever he fucking said. “She didn’t blackmail you, did she?”
Buddha chuckled. “Did she blackmail me? With what?”
“I don’t know, she does that computer magic and finds out all kinds of shit.” Why was he so damn paranoid? Christ, he’d be certifiable before the month was up. “Never mind, I’m just fucking happy you reconsidered.”
“You should get your ass home and catch some sleep, Torch. You’re on edge.”
“Yeah, I know,” he muttered. “Alright, brother, you get some rest too. We’re gonna help you beat this shit.”
“I hope you’re right, son. Good night.”
He hung up and glanced at his reflection in the gas station window. Jesus, the bags under his eyes were starting to take over his face. Yeah, wrapping himself around his woman and sleeping for more than a couple hours sounded real good.
As he mounted his bike and started it up, it dawned on him that Liv had actually done him two favors. Whatever she’d said to Buddha had obviously worked, but her offer to handle looking for a bone marrow match would also keep her busy. He wasn’t sure whether she’d finished up her hacking gig, but the more shit she had to focus on, the less he’d have to worry about her sleuthing instincts inconveniently kicking in.