Torch
“What’s up with the truck?”
“Alternator is flaking. Figured I’d swap it out before it gave out on me.”
“You need a hand?”
“No, I got it.”
The clang of metal on metal echoed through the driveway as I tightened the bolts under the hood of my SUV. It was freezing out, and my fingertips were growing numb. I wasn’t paying attention, and the wrench slipped, skinning my knuckles. I clenched my jaw at the sting and grumbled, “Dammit.”
“Couldn’t have said it better myself.” Savage leaned back on his heels and smirked. “You gonna tell me what’s crawled up your ass today, or do I have to keep guessing?”
I ignored him, going back to work on the bolts.
I kept twisting, but my grip was too tight, and I nearly stripped the damn thing. “Not in the mood, Savage.”
“Yeah, no kidding. You’ve been beating on this damn thing like there’s no tomorrow.”
He wasn’t wrong. I’d been at this all day, trying to outrun thoughts that had been running through my head, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about Beck. She resembled the girl I knew seven years ago. She had the same dark hair and light freckles dappled across the bridge of her nose, but now, she was all woman with an hour-glass figure and lips that begged to be kissed.
I was just as attracted to her now as I was back then, and it pissed me the hell off. I tossed the wrench onto the ground as I snapped, “Everything’s just fine.”
“Clearly.”
Savage crossed his arms and gave me that look—the one that said he wasn’t buying a damn word of it. I leaned against the front end of my truck and sighed, trying my best to shake off the tension that was crawling up my spine. Didn’t matter how many times I tried; I just couldn't shake it.
Savage took a pull from his cigarette as he gave me the once over and waited for me to spill. It took a minute, but I eventually asked, “Did you know she was moving back?”
“Who?”
“Beck.”
“Yeah, I heard Dad mention it, but I got the feeling it would be after the holidays.” He cocked his brow. “I take it that’s not the case.”
“Nope. She’s back and get this...” I motioned my head over to the little white house next door. “She’s my new neighbor.”
“No shit?”
“Nooo shit.” I glanced down at his cigarette as I asked, “Got a spare?”
Without a word, he grabbed the pack from his cut and pulled one out, offering it to me. I lit it, then took a long drag, letting the nicotine work through the knot in my chest.
“Have you talked to her?”
“Not exactly. I helped Big move in her sofa, but neither of us had much to say.”
Beck and I grew up together. We all did—Savage, Lexie, Darby, Susana, Mia, and Chance were all part of the crew. Beck and Lexie were younger, but they did their best to keep up.
Beck managed a bit better than Lex. She was a bit of a tomboy and didn’t let anything slow her down. I liked that about her. There was a lot I liked about her. She was beautiful and smart, and she had something to say about everything.
But as we grew older, Beck started looking and acting less and less like a tomboy and more like my next girlfriend—only that couldn’t happen. She was too young for me, so I kept my interest in her to myself and waited for her to grow up a bit. And then, she went off to college and never came back.
Savage was one of the few who knew how everything had gone down, so it was no surprise when he pushed, “So, what are you going to do?”
“Hell, if I know.”
“There are things that need to be said.”
“You’re telling me.”
“Then, go talk to her.”
The words had barely left his mouth when our attention was drawn over to Beck’s house. The front door had swung open, and Ava came tearing outside. Her little legs were moving like there was no tomorrow, and her curls were bouncing with every step. She made a beeline for the mailbox and yanked the door open.
She eased up on her tiptoes and reached inside. Her small hand rifled around for a bit, and disappointment marked her face when there was no mail to be found. She closed the door, and when she started back up to the house, she spotted us watching her. A soft smile crossed her face as she lifted her hand and waved, then darted back inside the house, slamming the door behind her. I looked back over to Savage and scoffed, “Oh, and did I mention that she’s got a kid?”
“Whoa, wait... That was her kid?”
“Yep. Apparently, her name is Ava.”
“You gotta be shittin’ me.” Savage’s eyes darkened. “How the hell did we not know that?”
“No clue. She and Big kept it from all of us, I guess.”
“But this is Fury. We don’t keep secrets, and Big knows that better than anyone.”
“Big had his reasons for keeping quiet—just like she did.” I dragged a hand over my face, frustration burning through me. “I just don’t have any idea what those reasons could be.”
“Only one way you’re gonna find out.”
“Yeah, I know.” I crushed the cigarette beneath my boot. “I just gotta figure out what I’m gonna say to her. Hell, maybe it’s best that I don’t say anything at all.”
“Nah, man. You two need to have a conversation. Besides, something tells me you aren’t going to be the only one who’s gonna be wondering what was going on with her.”
“True, and you’re right. We do need to have a conversation, but right now, my focus needs to be on the club and this whole diamond thing with Maltese.”
“Speaking of which, I gotta get going. Maverick and Wrath are expecting me.”
“Alright. I’ll see you over at the clubhouse.” As he started towards his bike, he shouted, “Best hurry with that alternator. You’ve only got two hours until church!”
“Yeah, yeah. I’ll get it.”
Once he was gone, I got back to work on the alternator. I tried to keep my focus, but I couldn’t stop thinking about our earlier meet with Maltese. A sense of dread washed over me when I thought about the tone of his voice as he spoke. It was cold and calculated, and he had an air about him—like he thought he was better than us. And I didn’t like it.
I didn’t like it one fucking bit.
In fact, I didn’t like any part of that fucking meet, including when he said, “Those antiques I mentioned before aren’t just antiques.”
“Yeah, we gathered. So, what’s the deal?”
“They’re moving diamonds. And not just any diamonds. These are precut and worth millions, and we want them. And we want your help getting them.”
The room went dead silent.
This was no longer about petty smuggling or territorial disputes.
We were talking about something that could get a lot of people killed, including us. Normally, we wouldn’t have a conversation like this in the bar. It didn’t have the security that the conference room had, but Big and Bones made sure the entire place was locked down like a fucking vault. No one could see or hear anything we didn’t want them to.
With that in mind, I looked to Dad as I snapped, “Holy shit. Is this guy serious?”
“Oh, I couldn’t be more serious.”
Dad leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “So, you want us to put our necks on the line while you sit back and reap the reward? You’ve got the wrong fucking club, because that shit’s not gonna happen.”
“No, you don’t understand... This would be a joint venture.”
Dad glanced over at Cotton, and suspicion was etched into every line of his face. Cotton had led the club for years and had recently taken on an entirely new role as Bruton’s successor—a once influential tradesman with powerful connections who found himself at the wrong end of a shotgun barrel.
His death opened an opportunity, and Cotton took it. Since then, he’d crossed paths with some very treacherous people—including the cartel. He knew there was something off with all this. We all did.
Dad turned back to Maltese as he asked, "A joint venture, huh?”
“Of course. We wouldn’t expect you boys to take this on alone. We would combine our resources and find the best way to get our hands on the goods.”
“And if we manage to get the goods?”
Maltese kept his voice low and steady as he answered, "You’ll get a significant cut—one that would make your troubles worthwhile."
I could see the wheels turning in Prez’s head. He was weighing the risks and rewards, and things weren’t balancing out. I could tell that he was about to tell Maltese to fuck off, and he saw it, too. Noting the look of doubt in Prez’s eyes, Maltese added, “We both stand to gain a lot from this venture.”
Trust was a rare commodity in our line of work, and while Maltese said all the right things, he worked for the cartel. That alone made him untrustworthy. Prez knew that. We all knew that, and we were all waiting for him to tell him to fuck off. Instead, he said, “We’ll think it over and get back to you.”
Maltese nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth. "I look forward to hearing from you.”
After Maltese left, Dad ordered us all to go home while he and the other officers mulled things over with Cotton.
The time had come for us to see what they’d decided.
When I pulled up at the clubhouse, Savage and several of the others had already started gathering in the conference room, and they all looked pretty tense. I felt the same. Swiping diamonds from another cartel was risky, even for us. There were too many moving pieces—too many ways for it to go wrong.
I didn’t like it, and I had a feeling Dad wasn’t thrilled either, but we had to hear him out. Business demanded it. I took my seat at the table, and the silence in the room was deafening. I glanced around the room and caught a few wary eyes. Seemed there were several who were just as concerned as me. Curious to know what he was thinking, I leaned over to Rooster and asked, “Whatcha thinking?”
“That this guy should go smoke a dog-turd in hell,” he scoffed. “I don’t wanna get tied up with these guys. I just hope your father agrees.”
“Me too.”
Dad had only been president for a few months, but he’d proven himself as sergeant-at-arms—and even before, when he was just a brother. The brothers knew that he could follow in Cotton’s footsteps with little struggle, and he had. In just a short time, he’d made some tough calls that left us standing even stronger, and I had no doubt that today would be no different.
His face was set in stone as he entered the room. He walked straight to the head of the table and stood there for several moments, weighing his thoughts before speaking. When he met my eyes, I felt the weight of everything he carried—the club, the men, our lives, and our futures.
He looked over to Savage and Wrath, then back to us before announcing, “We’re passing on the offer.”
His voice was hard and final, leaving no room for questions, and I couldn’t have been more relieved. And I wasn’t the only one. Stitch leaned back in his seat and sighed, “Well, Merry Christmas to me.”
“Ah, come on, brother.” Wrath smirked. “You didn’t really think we were going for it, did you?”
“You guys were pretty convincing.” We could all hear the pride in Stitch’s voice as he added, “But I know why you did what you did, and it was a smart move. Last thing we need is some smug cartel thinking we snubbed our noses at ‘em.”
“Exactly.” Dad cleared his throat before saying, “Besides, Cotton has some possible opportunities for us to discuss after the holidays.”
A few nods and murmurs of agreement circled the table. Maltese wasn’t going to be happy, but the decision wasn’t up for debate. It was the only call that made sense. Dad collected his things and announced, "Meeting adjourned.”
We all stood, and one by one, we started to filter out of the room. As we started for the parking lot, Rooster let out a breath. “He had me worried there for a minute.”
“You and me both.”
“Where you headed?”
“Back to the house,” I answered. “I’ve gotta finish some work on my truck. What about you?”
“Meeting Maggie and the kids for dinner. Hoping I can talk ‘em into going for burgers instead of pizza. I love Dano’s, but it seems like it’s all we eat anymore.”
“I get it, but I gotta say, it’s hard to beat Dano’s, brother.”
“Yeah, yeah. That’s what they keep saying.” He chuckled, then kicked his leg over the seat of his bike. “Catch ya later.”
I continued over to my bike and followed him out the front gate. With the Maltese situation out of the way, I was ready to get home and settle in for the night. I eased out onto the main drag, and it wasn’t long before I was engulfed in darkness.
I always loved a night ride. It was one of the best ways to clear my head, but tonight, it barely made a dent. No matter how fast I drove or how many hard curves I leaned into, my mind kept drifting back to Beck. She’d been gone for so long, and I was still finding it hard to believe she was back.
I could still remember the day she left. It was mid-August—a time when the days were long and hot, and the nights were cool and filled with endless possibilities. She came by the clubhouse to tell everyone goodbye. Her bags were loaded up in the back of her little SUV, and she looked happy—really happy.
We hugged, and I told her to make us proud, never revealing how much I wanted her to stay. I stood there in the parking lot and watched as she drove away, all the while thinking that it wouldn’t be long before she would be back.
But I was wrong.
Years passed, and life took us in different directions.
I heard bits about her here and there, but those bits became less and less frequent. I kept expecting her to come back home, but she never did—not until now. I didn’t know what had taken her so long to find her way back home, but I had every intention of finding out.