Page 78 of Running from Drac

His words hang heavy in the room, the hum of the old fridge is the only sound until Iris’s voice pipes up from the living room, singing along to some cartoon theme song in a voice so sweet it nearly hurts.

“You said you barely left alive, and I’ve heard stories about how those types of clubs feel about cops. How’d you get out?”

“I ran,” he said after taking a swig. “But not without help. If it weren’t for two men that I still consider my brothers, I’d probably be lying dead next to her mother. It gives me chills to think about where Iris would be had I not left when I did. Now, I can’t imagine my life without her.”

“I can’t believe they just let you go,” Rich exclaims in awe, both of us staring at Cipher like a war hero being welcomed home.

“Not all one percent clubs are bad. There are some amazing men that ride for them, but there are the others that give it a bad name. Those are the ones you have to be careful of. The ones that will slit your throat and stab you in the back at the same time.”

“My friends would never stab me in the back. Neither would my father.”

Cipher stands. “That’s good, but you never know who may ask to prospect, or what hell they’ll bring with them. I can’t live that kind of life anymore. That’s why I’m selling my bikes and only keeping two. One for me and one for my girl. All the rest need to go.”

“You sound like you’re running from this patch too,” I acknowledge, nodding toward the LEMC patch on his chest directly below the one that says President.

“Sometimes, Eddie, you gotta know when to hand over the gavel. I’ve served my time. I just want to serve the rest in peace with my family while I’m still breathing. Anyway, I’ll give you guys a minute to check out the bikes.”

We head outside. The sun’s dipping behind the trees, casting golden streaks across the lawn. The bikes glint in the dying light. I move toward the Dyna, fingers brushing over the cool steel tank. It’s like she’s calling to me, the hand painted flames speaking to my inner need to be reckless and ride on the side of danger.

Cipher comes outside, squinting as the sun hits his face. “They’re beautiful machines.” He leans in closer again. “You want brotherhood, Eddie? You can have it. But don’t mistake chaos for loyalty. And don’t think for one second that patch won’t get someone you love killed. Because it fucking will.”

“Damn, you really don’t want me to buy your bikes, do you?”

“I’m not saying don’t ride,” Cipher argues. “I’m saying be smart about what you’re riding for. Don’t ride for a patch. Ride for you.”

I don’t say anything. I can’t. His words hit me too fucking hard.

Rich stands behind me, quietly watching my reaction. He’s waiting for me to okay this, both of us ready to start this journey like two hobbits searching for a purpose.

It’s hard to ignore the naysayers in my head. Amber’s voice is stronger than ever.

If you buy these bikes, I’m not going to be happy.

And then Cipher’s…

Don’t think for one second that patch won’t get someone you love killed.

I’m straddling Hell and loving every minute of it.Fuck, why do I crave danger like it’s a goddamn drug?

Rich doesn’t say anything right away until he clears his throat. “So?” he finally asks. “Which one you want?”

I look at the bikes. Then back at him. “I don’t know,” I say.

And I don’t because Cipher’s voice still echoes in my head.

“You’d better be ready to bleed for it.”

But as my fingers tickle the painted chrome of the Dyna, a sense of pride washes over me, one that not even Amber’s words of warning can cleanse.

“But I want to know what it’s like to bleed for something bigger than us.”

Rich nods, both of us knowing that whatever comes next, we’re not prepared for it, maybe never will be.

Cipher stands a few feet away, arms crossed, waiting for me to seal the deal. “Which one do you want?” he questions, knowing damn well I’m not backing down from this sale no matter how much he dissuades me.

“Fuck it. I’ll take them both.”

Chapter Twenty-Three