It was my favorite time of day: long before anyone else was awake and the sun was just starting to filter through the blinds. I was laying in my bed listening to nothing but the sounds of my own breathing. Kevin was still sleeping soundly in his room, so I had just a few brief moments to myself where I could begin to prepare myself for the day ahead; one that not only included getting Kevin up and ready for school, but also another big run with the guys. I just wanted to lay there and enjoy the silence for a little while longer, but my alarm went off for the second time, letting me know that my moment of peace was over. I pulled the covers back and got out of bed, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes as I headed to the bathroom for a shower. Once I was done, I got dressed and went into the kitchen to make Kevin some breakfast. Just as I was about to pour myself a cup of coffee, there was a light tap at my back door. Seconds later, I heard the rattle of keys as they unlocked the door, and my mother stepped inside.

“Morning.”

“Sorry, I’m late. Your father had one of his spells last night, and I wanted to make sure he was okay before I left.”

“Why didn’t you call me?” I asked as I offered her a cup of coffee.

“I didn’t see the point in bothering you. Besides, after he had a breathing treatment, he was fine.”

My father had COPD, a lung disease that obstructed airflow to, well … the lungs, and he was on a shitload of medication that was supposed to help him breathe. Unfortunately, he refused to give up smoking, so he was only getting worse. “He wouldn’t have to do so many breathing treatments if he’d just stop smoking.”

“I’m well aware of that, Sawyer,” she grumbled, “but your father has a mind of his own.”

She was right. He’d always been one to do things his way and wouldn’t listen to anyone, especially my mother. It was one of the reasons I was glad they lived close by. After I fixed my coffee, I turned back to her and said, “I don’t know why he has to be so damned stubborn.”

“You’re one to talk,” she said in a huff. “Leaving home at all hours of the night, doing who knows what and leaving Kevin with strangers. It’s just not right.”

“Angie isn’t a stranger. She’s been living next door to us for six years, Mom. She’s a teller at the bank, and she goes to your church. I think it’s safe to say that she can be trusted to stay with Kevin for a couple of hours.”

“Yes, well … That doesn’t make it right,” she chided.

“Are you done? Cause I need to wake Kevin up.”

“He’s still asleep? We need to leave in twenty minutes!”

“Yeah, but I’ll get him up and going,” I yelled to her as I started down the hall. I opened his door and walked over to the bed. “Hey, buddy. You need to get up.”

His shaggy blond hair fell over his eyes as he rolled over and groaned, “Ah, man. Do I have to?”

I sat down on the edge of the bed and ran my hand roughly over his back. “Yep. You know how your grandmother gets upset when you’re late.”

“She’s taking me to school again?” he whined.

“I told you last night that I had a run today.”

He sat up in the bed and his blue eyes grew intense. “When will you be back?”

“Sometime late tonight.”

“So, you’ll be back in time for my game tomorrow?” he asked sounding hopeful.

“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it, bud. You know that.”

“Good, because coach said he was gonna put me in as quarterback,” my little man’s voice boasted with pride.

Kevin had wanted to play ball since he was old enough to walk, but that got put on hold when we found out he had leukemia. After losing his mother at such an early age, it was a hard pill to swallow, but he got through it—we both did. Since he’d been in remission, Kevin was bound and determined to make up for lost time, and when he asked to play peewee football, there was no way I could tell him no. I smiled as I stood up and said, “Of course, you are. You’ve got the best arm on the team. Now, move it, kid, or you’re gonna be late for school. I’ll have your breakfast ready in two minutes.”

“Okay.” Just as I was about to walk out of the room, Kevin called, “Hey, Dad?”

“Yeah?”

“Be careful today.”

“Always.”

Once I’d given Kevin his breakfast, I made my way over to the clubhouse to meet up with the guys. Thankfully, it didn’t take me long to get there. It was just a few miles from the house, on the south side of the city. When I pulled up, the guys were done loading up and were standing around their old pickup trucks, and like me, none of them were wearing their cuts. Since we had joined up with our other club chapters and created a new pipeline, we would be carrying a load that contained shipments from five of our fellow chapters. We didn’t want to draw any unwanted attention as we transported our load to Louisiana, so we had to get creative. Thinking no one would suspect a few farmers, Gus rigged up a couple of his dad’s old horse trailers with hidden compartments under the floor, making it possible for us to hide all the artillery beneath the horses. While it took a little extra work, these runs had been a profitable venture between our clubs, and there were worse things in the world than hauling horses down south.

As soon as I parked my bike, I noticed Riggs, one of my younger brothers in the club, standing beside the trailer in a pair of faded jeans and a plain-white t-shirt. The ladies often called him tall, dark and handsome, but I didn’t see it. To me, Riggs was just a smooth-talking pain in the ass. We’d both grown a habit of giving each other a hard time, so I wasn’t surprised when I noticed the shit-eating grin on his face. “Well, good morning, sunshine. I’m glad to see you finally made it.”

“Fuck off, Riggs. I’m twenty minutes early.” Technically, I really was early, but some of the guys had it in their heads that everyone should arrive thirty minutes before the declared time. They thought it made them seem more eager or invested in the club. I thought it was a bunch of bullshit. If you want me somewhere at seven-thirty, then just say seven-thirty. It’s not that fucking difficult. I got off my bike and started towards the others. “Unlike you, I’ve got responsibilities.”

“Hey, I’ve got responsibilities!” he replied sounding defensive.

“Taking your flavor of the week home doesn’t count.”

“That hurts, man.”

“Um-hmm,” I grumbled. “Where’s Gauge? I figured by now he’d be sitting on go.”

“He went to track down Murph. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

I ran my hand over my beard and sighed, wishing I’d taken the time to have one more cup of coffee before I left the house. I knew the guys were starting to get anxious when I heard Runt growl, “Fuck, if I know, but he needs to hurry his ass up. I’m ready to get on the road.”

Just as the words came out of his mouth, the back door flew open, and Gus came barreling out the door with Gauge and Murphy following behind him. He headed over to the trailers to give them the once-over, making sure they were loaded to his liking. When he got to the second trailer, he shouted, “Runt!”

An uneasy look crossed his face as Runt walked over to Gus. “Yeah?”

“Secure that second latch,” he ordered before turning his attention to us. “Just got off the phone with Cotton. I told him we were right on schedule. Let’s keep it that way.”

Cotton was the president of the Fury chapter up in Washington. He and his brothers were responsible for getting the pipeline underway, and there was no way in hell we could let them down. Knowing how important it was, we answered, “Understood.”

Runt eased into the trailer, and once he’d locked the hidden latch, Gus gave his nod of approval. “Looks good. You guys are ready to roll.”

“You heard what the man said.” Murphy motioned his hand forward, “Let’s move it!”

In a matter of seconds, we were on the road and driving towards Louisiana. Thankfully, we got down to Baton Rouge without any complications. When we pulled up to the old, dilapidated warehouse, Riggs jabbed me in the side with his elbow and said, “We’re here.”

“I see that, smart one.” I scowled. “Now, move your ass.”

As soon as we got out of the truck, Murphy went over to talk to Ronin, our distributor. We’d done well when we’d chosen Murph as our sergeant-at-arms. Not only was he a fucking badass who could handle any adversary, he was levelheaded and knew how to work the business side of the club. Murphy was respected by some of the most notorious criminals in the South. Once he and Ronin finished discussing the plan for distribution, Ronin’s guys came over to help us unload. Riggs held the trailer door open while I led the two mares over to the side of the warehouse. With the horses out of the way, Murphy released the hidden compartment, and we started to unload. Ronin motioned us over to the backside of the barge and shouted, “Over here, guys.”

He opened the hatch at the bottom of the grain container, and we stashed our crates in the space hidden beneath it, which would be completely concealed once it was filled. At this point, we’d all broken out in a sweat. As we headed back to the truck, Riggs wiped his brow as he complained, “It’s hotter’n blue blazes out here.”

“It’s this fucking humidity,” Lowball grumbled. He’d patched in a few months back, and over the past year, he’d proven himself to be a real asset to the club. Yeah, Lowball looked like the rest of our motley crew, every bit rough around the edges, but he was actually really fucking smart and had helped me a lot at the garage. He ran his fingers through his dark hair and said, “Makes me thirsty for a cold beer.”

“You ain’t lying. I could use a twelve-pack right about now,” Riggs agreed.

As I started towards the side of the warehouse, I turned to him and called out, “Quit your bitchin’, and help me get these horses back on the trailer so we can get the hell out of here.”

Before we headed out, Murph went over to Ronin and shook his hand, “You know the routine. Keep Gus posted on the load.”

From the dock, the barge would carry everything down the Mississippi River, and once it reached the final port down by the Gulf, it was up to Ronin to see that everything was delivered to our buyers. The club had been working with him for as long as I’d been a member, and time after time, he’d proven himself loyal to the brothers. Ronin nodded and said, “You know I will.”

“Thanks, brother.”

We’d been lucky today. We hadn’t run into any cops or had to deal with any assholes who thought they had what it took to steal our load. Those made for long, drawn-out days that often ended with several guys having bullets in their heads. I’d say it was a pretty good day. After Murphy jumped in his truck, he put in a call to Gus, letting him know that we’d secured the load. Once he was done, we followed him back out on the road and started towards home, only stopping once to fuel up and to get a bite to eat. By the time we finally pulled through the gate at the clubhouse, it was well after dark, and we were all exhausted. After being cooped up in a cage for over twelve hours, we were all ready to stretch our legs and grab a beer.

As soon as we stepped into the clubhouse, I could feel myself start to relax. Something about that building just did it for me. I’d always liked the fact that it was once an old train depot that the club had bought and renovated. It took some work, but they created over thirty rooms, which included a full kitchen, a bar, and our conference room. It was pretty quiet when we got to the bar. Most of the guys had already gone home for the night or were off in their rooms having a run with one of the hang-arounds, which suited me fine. All I wanted was to suck down a cold one and get home to a hot shower and my bed. Riggs and I had just sat down when Murphy came over to us. He grabbed a beer and blew out a breath, “Damn. It’s been a long one.”

He’d just gotten the words out of his mouth when, Sadie, one of the hang-arounds, slipped up behind him. “Hey there, handsome. Did you have a good trip?”

“Um-hmm,” he mumbled, obviously uninterested in pursuing anything with her.

She didn’t take the hint and plopped herself down on the stool across from him. “It’s been pretty slow here tonight.”

With his dark, shaggy hair and blue eyes, he had that James Dean look going for him, and the girls couldn’t get enough of it. They all wanted to get their claws into him, but Murphy wasn’t having it. He had his rules, and he wasn’t breaking ‘em—not for any chick. Ignoring Sadie altogether, he took a slug off his beer and turned to me. “You working at the garage tomorrow?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“I was thinking I’d bring the truck in for a tune up. It was riding a little rough today.”

“Bring it on in. I’ll take care of it.”

“Thanks, brother.” He stood up and took his beer off the counter. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

When she realized he was leaving, Sadie looked up at him with a pout. “You’re leaving?”

“It’s been a long day, doll.”

Her lips curled into a seductive smile as she purred, “I could help you end it on a good note.”

I could see the wheels turning in his head as he considered her offer, and seconds later he responded, “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

With that, she followed him down the hall. “That chick’s never gonna learn,” Riggs said while he shook his head.

“Nope.” It was gonna take one hell of a woman to make him want more than a quick lay. After I finished off my beer, I stood up and said, “I better get to the house. If I know Kevin, he’s up waiting for me.”

“I’m sure he is.” Riggs chuckled. “Tell him I said hello.”

“Will do.”

As I headed for the door, Riggs called out, “I’ll see you at the garage in the morning.”

The sun had gone down hours ago when I walked out to the parking lot and hopped on my Harley. As soon as I turned the key and the engine roared to life, the sound alone made the tension of the day start to subside. It was just me, my bike, and the road winding out before me in the night air as I pulled out onto the highway. Memphis was always a beautiful city, especially after dark when she was all lit up. I loved passing by the Arkansas Bridge and the Pyramid. As I pushed the throttle forward, it was as if I was the only man on earth; with the wind whipping around me, I couldn’t think of any better therapy. By the time I made it home, my mind was cleared, and I was ready to say goodnight to my son and call it a day.