Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80982 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
“You should’ve seen it.” She slid the album over to me as she said, “Rae was determined to get Thomas up on those skis.”
Hearing her say Thomas’ name warmed my heart. Not only had she remembered me, but she’d also remembered Dad and Thomas. I laughed as I said, “I lost count of how many times that poor kid face planted in that water.”
“But he never gave up,” Mom replied proudly. “He was a determined little guy.”
“Sounds like his grandfather.”
“Oh, he’s just like him.”
And just like that, the morning shifted.
We spent the next hour looking over pictures and sharing memories, side by side. Mom traced the photographs with her fingertip, trying to lock away the memories. There were so many important moments, like the time Lucas fell off the dock and Thomas tried to teach himself to fish.
She remembered all of them.
Not perfectly, but enough to make my chest ache with gratitude.
Every so often, she would look up at me with that clear, familiar recognition shining in her eyes, and I held onto those moments like they were gold. I knew they would come less and less, but she was here now.
She was with me, remembering and talking.
And I cherished every second of it.
7
DRIFTER
The road to the clubhouse felt longer than it had the last time I was there. Maybe it was the nerves tightening in my gut, or maybe it was coming back to a place that would remind me so much of home. The sun was just starting to bear down on me when the gate came into view.
I pulled up, and seconds later, one of their guards came strolling up. He was a young cat, muscled up with tattoos and a fierce expression, and he didn’t appear all that pleased that I’d just rolled up on his turf. “Can I help you?”
“I need a word with Preacher.”
“Oh yeah?” His eyes narrowed. “Who should I say is asking for him?”
“Name’s Walker,” I answered. “But he’ll know me as Rogue from the Kansas City chapter.”
He gave a tight nod, pulled out his phone, and after a quick conversation, he motioned me through. “Head on in. He’s waiting for you at the bar.”
“Appreciate it.”
I dipped my chin, then drove past the metal railing and up to the back entrance. Once I’d parked, I killed the engine and removed my helmet. I took a second to look around, taking everything in. The tall fencing looked new, and the clubhouse itself had a fresh coat of paint and a new roof.
But beneath the polish and upgrades, it had the same rough edges, and, just as I knew it would, the place reminded me of home. It was a different building, a different chapter, but it had the same heartbeat and contained men I considered brothers.
But that didn’t matter. I wasn’t here to get comfortable. I was here to deliver a warning, and as soon as I gave it, I would get the hell out of there. I rolled my shoulders and eased off the seat, then let out a deep breath before starting for the door.
I stepped inside, and before my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I spotted Preacher standing at the counter with his broad shoulders squared and a coffee mug in his hand. He’d aged a bit, but he looked to be just as fierce as he always was.
Grim and Creed stood on either side of him, both with their arms crossed and unreadable expressions. Like me, Grim had started to gray and had his fair share of crow’s feet, but he hadn’t withered away. Hell, far from it. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man, and Creed was just as fit.
I might’ve felt a twinge of jealousy over the fact, but the feeling was short-lived. My time for taking on the world had come and gone, but they
were his right-hand men. It was their job to note potential threats, and me showing up unannounced could be a reason for concern.
A smile spread across Preacher’s face when he saw me walking towards him. “Well, hell. I thought I was hearing things when Skid said your name.”
“Afraid not,” I chuckled, continuing my approach. “Been a long time.”
“Too long.” Preacher shook my hand as he said, “Where the hell you been?”
“Out on the road.” He knew my story. They all did. So, I kept it simple and said, “Needed some time to clear my head.”
“I get it. We all need a minute to catch our breath from time to time.” He clapped a heavy hand against my shoulder. “Can I get you a beer or a bite to eat?”
“A beer would be good.”
“You got it.” Preacher motioned over to the girl behind the bar, and in a matter of seconds, I had a beer in my hand. “Stone didn’t mention that you were coming ‘round.”