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treadmill without bothering to warm up.

I’d had to invoke the Lost Boys –my New Orleans club– to get us out of there in one piece and it was seriously pissing me off. Hell, everything was making me mad tonight. I went out to say goodbye to singlehood and ended up having to rescue my alleged bride-to-be from a biker.

It was irony worthy of Alanis Morissette.

I picked up my speed, wanting to go fast enough that I could not think.

It was disconcerting to think about how scared I’d been when I saw that man dragging her across the bar. He obviously had no regard for her feelings and her eyes were wide, terrified and searching for someone to help her. I could still see the relief in them when she caught sight of me and Morgan in the doorway. I didn’t even think, just barreled in there all half-cocked.

Thankfully, Sunny McDermott –president of the aptly named Satanists– was a known entity to the Lost Boys. He’d been running guns along the East Coast for a long time, going on twenty years. Morgan and I had actually done a run with him once when Tank had sent us to purchase some weapons from him. It had been a test, nerve-wracking as hell, and the catalyst to both of us deciding to get out of the club before it was too late for us. Morgan had wanted to be in a position to adopt his sister, and I just wanted more. But here we were, back to invoking club respect to get out of a jam. Sunny didn’t recognize us at first because well, we’ve grown a bit since. I knew he would call Tank to verify that we were who we said we were. Tank would back us up
and then call in the chip.

And that’s what was making me so mad.

To be beholden to Tank after crawling out from under him was not something I ever anticipated happening. As it was, he kept close tabs on my mother, just waiting for any opportunity to sow seeds of trouble between us. I couldn’t even really blame him for that. My mother loved to court trouble like it was her latest beau.

It was her fault I even got involved in the clubs. She had options; there was no need for her to stay with my dad. But apparently, she ‘loved’ him and understood that he didn’t mean all the douchebaggery. It was just because the government wouldn’t let him find a job.

My mother’s excuses for him were endless.

However, since my dad couldn’t work or some shit, I had to. I started out at Sunrise Auto Repair at thirteen years old. My first job was cleaner, sweeper, general messenger, pass-me-the-wrencher. The shop focused on bike repair and I learned everything I could about the ins and outs of motorbikes. By the time I was sixteen I was the most sought-after mechanic among the Lost Boys. It wasn’t long before they invited me to hang out at the clubhouse.

I thought it was the height of cool.

It wasn’t hard to get sucked in. I suppose the Lost Boys gave me the structure I was lacking at home. Ironically, my grades improved. The Boys saw my potential. They wanted me to learn about mechanics and business and use that knowledge on their behalf.

I was down to do it too. The Lost Boys were my family.

That was until I found a young man out in the back of the machine shop one day, next to the dumpster, curled in on himself, tears rolling down his dirty cheeks.

“Hey, you, what are you doing?” I asked, like the moron I was. Immediately, he tried to run. If he wasn’t half-starved and worn down, I never would have caught him. I forced the story of his life out of him and then took him to the diner down the road and fed him.

“From now on, you’re with me,” I declared as if I was a mafia don. The kid –Morgan– just nodded once, and that was that. Having someone to look out for made me more cognizant of the dangers of club life. I was happy to throw my life away for the Boys; I wasn’t ready for Morgan to throw away his.

That’s when I started looking for out-of-state scholarships and really applying myself in school. I made Morgan work hard too. He lived in my parents’ house with me for two years and they barely noticed.

It was still a shock when I got an acceptance letter from Yale in the mail. A full ride too. It was more than I was hoping for.

“You did it!” Morgan looked up at me with shining eyes as if I was somebody of worth. It made me stand straighter even though I felt like a fraud.

“Hey, once I settle in and get a place to live, I’ll send for you, alright?”

He shook his head. “No, Dom, you done enough for me. I’ll get out too, but I’m not as smart as you
so I enlisted.”

My heart dropped to my shoes. “You did what now?”

He shrugged as if he hadn’t just signed up to get killed by another type of club. “It’s my way out. And if I’m in the army, the courts can’t refuse to give me my sister.”

I snorted derisively. “You’re still a minor.”

“For two more years. Then I’m eighteen.”

I sighed because I knew how determined he was. I knew I couldn’t dissuade him. “Hey, man just
do not get killed.”

He gave that cocky grin he’d learned from me. “Okay, dad, I won’t.”

I got off the treadmill and wiped down before making my way back to my penthouse apartment. My legs ached from the brutal pace I’d set, but I also felt calmer. A warm shower and a cup of chamomile tea later –What? It’s good for relaxation– and I was out for the count.

I was woken way too early by the insistent ringing of my phone. Muttering curses to myself, I felt blindly

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