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Prologue

Hemlock leaned back in his chair, looking at his hand. He really hated to take his brothers’ money. They should know better to gamble with him. Moving a few cards around, he gave nothing away in his expression. Moving a card back to confuse the ones paying attention, he tossed out a comment he knew would shake things up. “Do you think women with small feet have tight pussies?” Still, he kept his face one of boredom as his brothers choked on their drinks.

Vicious slung his foot up, setting his boot on the table. “I mean I’m a size fourteen.”

Truck actually spit his beer across the table laughing before falling out of his chair.Drunk ass.

Vicious dropped his foot as he laughed at Truck.

Hemlock remained stoic.“I mean women think men with big feet have big dicks.”

“What is wrong with you?” Teller asked, shaking his head at Hemlock as he discarded two cards and picked up two new ones and slid them into his hand.

Looking up, Hemlock shrugged. “What? It’s a legitimate question.”

“Next you’re gonna need a whole new hand.” Player added to the conversation as he sorted his hand.

“Now that you mention it.” Hemlock laid his hand down and smiled. “Rummy.”

The swearing and card throwing started immediately, making Hemlock laugh. He wanted to say sorry, but the pot would cover his car note and that he did not laugh about. Raking his winnings up he thanked his brothers for the donation.

“You’re such a lucky SOB.”

“Maybe at pool and cards, but he sucks with the women.” Truck said, getting up from the floor. He saw the look on Hemlock’s face. The kid might be able to keep a mask up while playing cards, but it had slipped now, and it showed a hint of hurt. “You’ll find the right one kid, and she won’t try to kill you.”

“Maybe she’ll put me out of my misery.” Hemlock snickered, making light of what Truck had said while getting up to his feet. “I think you’re done, old man.”

“Who you calling old?” Truck shot back.

“You.” Hemlock deadpanned.

“I’ll show you old.”

“Maybe another time.” It was an ongoing banter between him and Truck. It started years back when he first started working for food with the chapter. He’d made a mistake referring to Truck as ‘Sir’ and the other brothers jumped on it. The situation hadgotten so bad that Hemlock had stopped coming around for a few weeks.

Truck and Vicious had come looking for him in the abandoned building where he lived. They had sat down on the floor, which he kept swept and washed so it would feel like he wasn’t living in a building ready to fall down. He never forgot how they sat down without judgement and asked him to come back to the clubhouse. It had meant more to him than the food he worked for. It made him feel wanted instead of tolerated.

“Where’s the bitches at?” Truck shouted, looking for someone to hit the sack with. Just as he said it, one of the club girls appeared in the doorway. Wynn sauntered over to him; she always did. “Babydoll, you up for some fun?”

“With you, Truck. Always.”

“You got him, Wynn?” Hemlock asked the petite blonde.

“Yeah. I got him.” She gave Hemlock a wink and let Truck drape an arm around her shoulder and headed him towards the private rooms the brothers used. Watching as they walked across the room and disappeared down the hall, he wondered what Truck had meant earlier.“You’ll find the right one kid, and she won’t try to kill you.”

He knew a lot about Truck, but the man bore scars he never spoke about, and Hemlock never asked. Even as a kid. Probably because he never wanted to talk about his own. “You’ve got that look on your face again,” Razor said, breaking into his thoughts.

“Just thinking.”

“You’re thinking about what Truck said.” Razor didn’t need to ask. Sometimes, after a few drinks, the brothers let slip pieces of stories too raw to be shared sober.

No one knew the entire story, just bits and pieces that couldn’t be stitched together with a needle and thread. “Don’t fret over it like some old woman. He’ll be fine come tomorrow. Wynn knows how to put him to rights.” Razor clapped Hemlock on the shoulder trying to get his attention off the dark hallway before his own demons took him down the same road Truck was on.

“Yeah. You’re right. Wynn’s got him, and he’ll be fine.”He’ll be fine.

Saying his good nights, Hemlock pulled his keys from his pocket and walked out into the cool spring night. Glancing up, he looked at the stars shining bright against the stark black sky. His nose caught the smell of freshly cut grass on the soft breeze and took him back to the time spent at Truck’s as a kid. Damn, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

Stepping up to his bike, he slid onto the seat and shoved the key in the ignition. A few of the other brothers stepped outside laughing as they walked to their sleds. Hemlock fired his up and shifted into first. Rolling out of the parking lot, he didn’t go screaming through the streets. No, he rolled slowly through the streets until all he could hear was the sound of his motor and pipes rumbling against the quiet.