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“Look at you, you lazy bastard. Finally decided to get off your ass and walk, huh?” I say the second I see Goldie on the other side of the door. He grins at me and throws his arms wide, and I’m so happy that the hippie bastard is up and on his feet that I pull him into a hug. He smells like patchouli and sprouted seeds. It’s gross, but I bear it for brotherhood, and out of respect for all the pain he and Alessia have been through in their recovery.

But only this one time; the smell’s a bit much.

“Feels like a fresh spring breeze has swept all the cobwebs off my aura,” he says. “Doc’s cleared me to ride and to do yoga, too. Says I have to start easy, though. Just Yin. But soon enough I bet I’ll be back to kicking ass with Ashtanaga. Alessia, too. Hell, she’s almost back to full strength. I don’t know how, after everything she’s been through — maybe it’s her spirit — but I don’t care. I’m just so excited to keep living my life with her. I love her, man. I love her.”

He’s still hugging me. Tighter, too. I think about breaking away, but since he’s recovering from being nearly dead and this barbecue is nominally about celebrating him, I let him keep holding me.

“I only understood about two of those words you said.”

“I could teach you,” he says. “The yoga. All of it.”

He’s still hugging me. I wonder, when was the last time he and Alessia got together?

“I have no desire to watch how bendy you can be, but thanks for the offer,” I say, finally separating from our overlong hug. It’s then my eyes take in everyone else standing behind Goldie — Tank, Hunter, and Bishop. “Where are the others? Where’s Alessia? Where’s Rabid?”

“We’re here early. We’ve got something to talk about,” Tank says.

There’s something in his voice that tells me that there’s going to be a while before the rest of the club gets here. My mind goes to Samantha, and a smile crosses my face even though Tank sounds so serious, as if he’s going to rip someone’s head off. “Hold on a second, will you?”

I don’t wait for an answer. I turn and leave them standing on my doorstep. Moments later, I’m outside the bathroom door and I hear the sounds of the shower inside. I knock once, quickly, then enter.

“What is it?” Samantha says, pulling back the shower curtain. She doesn’t need to in order to talk to me. I know she’s just doing it for my benefit, because I have never seen a more beautiful woman than her. I stop for a second and appreciate the view.

“Diesel?” She prompts again. “Talk to me.”

“I will, but I need you to give me a minute,” I say, running my eyes up and down her body. She’s covered in suds, the water cascading down her body emphasizing every inch of her curves. God damn, I could just forget about everything else and spend the rest of my life staring at her like this. The only thing that snaps me out of enjoying the moment happens when she splashes me. “Fine. Listen, when you’re out, go by city hall. Do it.”

“You serious? What about the barbecue?”

“This is more important. Take your time. Network. Show them how great you are. Let them see how they’d have to be fucking idiots to not hire you and put you in charge of whatever program they’ve got cooking up.”

She smiles — no, beams , which makes me beam in pride, because I’ll be damned if I don’t love seeing Samantha smile — and then she frowns, because she’s no fool, either. “What’s really happening?”

I won’t lie to her. She’s too smart to believe anything I try to come up with, and she’s suffered enough blood, sweat, and heartbreaking loss that sugarcoating something would be insulting to us both.

“Don’t know. But not everyone from the club’s here. It’s just Hunter, Tank, Goldie, and Bishop. If I had to guess, it’s about Victor.” I see the fear that flashes through her eyes and the way she freezes beneath the cascade of steaming hot water. “We’ll talk later, once I know what’s going on, and I’ll tell you.” I reach into the shower and put my hand on her arm. “But don’t worry about that now. You’ve got something important to do.”

“But Victor…”

“Victor isn’t what’s important right now. You are. Go to city hall, show them what I’ve known from the second I met you: that you’re fucking incredible.”

“I love you.” She smiles and turns back to the water, letting rivulets run down her curves and making me bite my lip to keep from moaning. Then, fuck it, I moan anyway and lean into the shower to kiss her neck, her lips, her breasts. Finally, laughing, she pushes me away. “The club is waiting. Go find out what’s going on, but don’t go leaving on any war missions without telling me, OK?”

“Promise. I love you.”

I leave her smiling in the shower and rejoin the guys outside. Hunter raises an eyebrow at me. “You decide to take a shower, too?”

“Can’t say I’m not tempted to climb into that shower with her. But tell me what’s going on.”

“Not here. Let’s ride.” Goldie sounds about as cheerful as a memorial service at an orphanage, and my thoughts race into overdrive as I head to my bike and join the four of them on the road. Not even the whipping wind, the smell of fresh, free air in my nostrils, or the morning sunshine on my face do anything to calm me as I follow them around corners and down straightaways until we’re deep in the mountains outside of town.

At a shoulder, Goldie holds up his hand and we pull off onto the gravel. Bishop takes up position at one end of the shoulder, his eyes on alert down the road, while Hunter takes the other corner. With a gesture, Goldie beckons for Tank and me to follow him.

“This is a hell of a way to start off a barbecue. Tell me what’s going on, VP,” I say.

“It’s Victor,” Tank says. “That rat-fucking, bloodthirsty piece of horseshit. That’s what we’re here about.”

“Yes, we all hate that motherfucker and want him dead. None of that is new. Why call me out here?”

“Because that mess at the clubhouse, as fucking satisfying as it was to spill the blood of some of those motherfuckers and send Victor running off to hide with what remaining muscle he has, it wasn’t the end of it. He hasn’t just been sitting in fucking Boise, licking his wounds and jerking his cock. He’s been recruiting. Rebuilding.”

Goldie puts his hand on Tank’s shoulder, his face dark. “It’s time to act. You know, the Buddha once said: ‘For never is hatred settled by hatred, it's only settled by love.’ And I’ve tried to live by that, as best as I can, until this un-cool piece of shit Moretti came along and nearly killed the woman that I love. Now, the only thing that will settle this is holding Victor Moretti’s severed, bleeding head in my hands.”

“How can I help? You need a man to swing the axe?”

Tank shakes his head. “You’re here because you and I have fought together outside of the MC, and you’re my friend, Diesel.”

“Not that I’m disputing that we’re friends, Tank, but what the fuck does that have to do with this?”

“I’m sending Tank in,” Goldie says. “He volunteered. Rabid approved. This is off the books. He’s going to recon, to scout Victor’s operations for weaknesses, and then when we have the information we need, we are going to strike and cut the ugly head off his operation.”

“No one in Moretti’s organization knows who I am. No one in his organization has seen my face. I’m free to do what I need to do to get close and get the information that we need to strike at that bastard. You’re here because you’re my brother, and I’m sorry to say I won’t be making your barbecue, Diesel. After we finish talking, I’ll be heading to fucking Boise.” Tank pauses, gives Goldie a long look. “Give us a second, will you?”

“Yeah, sure,” Goldie says, and leaves.

Tank watches him leave, and I watch Tank. When Goldie’s out of earshot, I say, “What else is there?”

Tank shrugs. “You heard him. I have my orders: infiltrate and report back.”

“And since when do you follow orders?”

“All the time. Don’t you remember?” There’s a moment of silence where I just stare at his bearded, weather-beaten face, trying to remember if there’s been even one single time, before Tank finally grins. “You know me too well.”

“So, what’s the real plan?”

“My real plan is why I asked you here to say goodbye, Diesel. You’re my brother, and we’ve been through too much for me to leave without telling you I love you, that I’m really fucking happy that you’ve found Samantha, and it’s been an honor knowing you. Odds are, I’m not making it back from this one. You don’t step into the belly of a beast like this and expect to live. But it’ll be worth the cost. And if I survive, the next time you see me, I’ll be holding Moretti’s beating heart in my hands.”