Micah

 

“Don't you think you should slow down a little?” Gov asked as I slugged down the last of my beer. I wasn't sure what number I was up to, but I knew I was up there.

 

This was killing me, having to cut myself out of the club. It was better than the alternative, I supposed. But, still, it stung. I grumbled and just grabbed another cold one and cracked it open.

 

It used to be that I loved the rally. Every year my dad would bring me down here and show me around to his buddies for a few hours, before bustling me off to a sitter or my grandpa's. Live music, people hawking their wares, drinking competitions.

 

Sure, it wasn't Sturgis, or anything, with thousands upon thousands of bikers coming from all over the country. But it was ours, without any weekend warrior types coming in to dilute our fun, or trucking their bikes in from all over the country just so they could stop a mile outside city limits and ride them in.

 

And, because it was ours, we could hold court the way we were meant to. The only preening and posing we had to do was for ourselves, for our benefit. Not because of rivalries between us and other gangs.

 

Of course, there was always some guys from rival clubs who would slip in. It was likely some of the remaining Storm’s Bloods were here, on the outskirts of the rally, moving within their own circles. That was to be expected. They wouldn't make trouble or anything, not with the F&B MC out in full force and them being so weak from Avery's buddy's recent bust, but they were definitely here with at least a minor presence. It was, after all, a public place. Not much you could do, except for cutting a man's feet off, to stop a man from walking down the street, no matter what his colors were.

 

All our support clubs, all wearing red and black, with our patch on their vests, swirled around the area. These were the guys who rode with us on charity events, who gave us a good name in the press. They weren't into any of the illegal stuff, they were just guys who liked getting together with their ol' ladies and buddies on the weekends so they could ride bikes and drink some brew.

 

They were just guys being guys, sure, but they'd shut any kind of Storm’s Bloods action down in a heartbeat. Especially with how weak the TR had recently become.

 

But, like I said, I used to love the rally. It was a weekend of fun, loud music, girls hopping into your bed, beer, and loud bikes. What wasn't to love?

 

This year, though, it meant more to me. It meant more because I knew it would be my last. Simultaneously, I was trying to both savor every moment of it, but also dreading each one as we approach the appointed time.

 

“You're drunk,” Gov said.

 

“No, I ain't,” I said, checking the time on my phone. One o'clock, high point of the festivities. Time was riding on, and we were all stuck in its sidecar. I glanced around, half-expecting to see Grin's fist come flying out of the corner of my vision.

 

“Just don't get so boozed up you can't pull it off,” Gov said.

 

“Come on, Gov,” I replied, a hint of a slur to my voice, “you know Grin couldn't take me sober. If anything, I should start doing shots to make this shit even more believable.”

 

Gov cracked a little bit of a smile on that stony face of his. “Yeah, well, you got me there.”

 

I grinned, looking around at the rally one last time. “Way past high noon,” I said to Gov. “We should get back to the club so we can make this break official.”

 

“You sure?” Gov asked. “We could give it another minute.”

 

“Nah,” I said, shaking my head, a sense of inevitability settling on my chest like an elephant. “We put it off any longer, I might change my mind.”

 

Deep down, though, I knew I wouldn't. This was the path I'd chosen for myself, and to slink away from my responsibility so I could just wait to have my presidency taken from me by the FBI or Efraim Petrov wasn't the way I did things. This was a “nut up or shut up” situation if I'd ever been in one.

 

“Meet you there,” I told Gov as I slipped off into the crowd and found Kaci. She was talking to one of the guys' ol' ladies, just laughing with the slightly older woman and drinking beers as they looked around at the assortment of men and women around them.

 

I grabbed Kaci by the elbow. “It's time,” I grunted.

 

“Already?” she pouted. She turned back to her new friend and said her good-byes. Together, we headed off into the crowd and headed back to Club Hades, giving my drunken nod to everyone we passed that nodded first.

 

“You still sure about this?” she asked.

 

“Think I got this courageous for nothing?”

 

“Courageous?” she asked, laughing as I stumbled on a crack in the concrete and she put an arm around my waist for support. “You mean drunk, right?”

 

“All part of the act,” I said as I pulled into her an embrace and kissed her.

 

She grinned up at me. “Alright, Mr. President,” she said slapping my chest. “Let's go.”

 

We threaded our way through the crowd of bikers and soon ended up at the front doors of Club Hades. The place was packed, a complete circus of debauchery. Hoots and hollers filled the air, classic rock so loud it could have been either Buddy Holly or Zeppelin blared over the speakers. I shoved my way through the revelers, dragging Kaci right along with me. We were headed for the upstairs, to the little railed-in balcony that circled around the top of the club like an old saloon. Grin and I were going to do it there.

 

I mounted the steps with Kaci, one hand on the railing for support. I realized I was nervous, even with the liberal amounts of libations flowing through my system. I realized, too, that was I was marching to my future, to the ending of my old life. After this, there'd be just one more step: getting Efraim on tape. Then, I could start my new life with my woman by my side.

 

My hand shook a little as I ran it over the rail and walked stiff-legged to my appointed spot where I would perform my downfall for the assembled crowd below. Up ahead, I could see Grin talking with some of the guys. Sydney was with him and the others, laughing and carousing. I glanced back behind me, saw that Gov was coming along.

 

I stopped at the spot we'd picked out. All the bikers below us would be able to see everything we wanted them to see, ever stumble from grace that we'd planned.

 

This was heavy shit, I realized. Real heavy. Like if Julius Caesar had been in on the joke, just not as deadly. As Gov walked up, I glanced over at Grin, my Brutus. We exchanged a little nod.

 

It was time.

 

Grin broke from the crowd and headed our way. His group followed along behind him, their eyes a mix of surprise and trepidation as my third–in-command approached ahead of them. “You drunk already, Baby Jaws?” Grin yelled when he got within ten feet of me.

 

“What, Grin?” I hollered back. “Fuck you!”

 

“Fuck me?” he said, looking back over his shoulder as if to say, “See this asshole here?”

 

“Yeah,” I yelled back, taking a step towards him. “I'm the fucking boss here, and I say go fucking yourself.”

 

Grin barked a laugh that was anything but his namesake. He took a step closer. “You know what, Don? I've been thinking. I signed up to follow Jaws, not his little fucking runt. Best part of you got left behind on your momma's asshole, you know that?”

 

“Yeah, well, best part of you ended up in your momma's throat,” I screamed back, pitching my vocal range up so I sounded like a whining little prepubescent boy. I purposely balled my fists up in rage, having to fight even in my drunken stupor to keep them at my side and not catch Grin's sucker punch. “Fuck you!”

 

I saw the fist flying at my head, and I didn't do anything. I knew it was going to hurt, even if it was coming from a smaller guy like Grin. He had meat on his bones, even if he didn't look it, and he knew how to punch from his legs. I barely had time to register that it was coming, though.

 

I saw it. Then, the pain exploded through my nose and face as my head violently snapped back. I stumbled back, my hand coming up to my face. “Mother-” I screamed, but was cut off as Grin rabbit punched me again and again.

 

On cue, from behind me I heard a piercing scream from Kaci that was guaranteed to get everyone's attention.

 

Jesus fucking Christ, I thought as I fell back under the onslaught. I threw a hand up, my fight or flight taking over for a second there, but my brain soon took over and made sure the block was weak enough to not stop Grin's next punch that clipped my jaw and stumbled me to my knees. I lunged at him, throwing a flailing fist at his head in a clumsy haymaker, but Grin just blocked it and slashed me to the ground.

 

“Hey!” Gov yelled as he stepped in between me and Grin, then, as my vision blurred out for a moment. He grabbed Grin up and flung him back a step, but the guys behind Grin had crowded in and kept Gov from throwing him too far. “What the fuck, Grin?”

 

“Done with this piece of shit,” Grin yelled at Gov as Kaci slipped an arm around me and helped me to stand. He glanced around, trying to garner support. He pointed past Gov, straight at me. “Micah ain't done shit for this club, all he's done is pull us down since Jaws died. Right guys?”

 

There were mumbles of agreement, mainly because Grin was the last one that had spoken. People were funny like that, always picking the guy who got in the last word. Besides, he was a good actor. He even had me believing for a moment that this was a real mutiny.

 

I glanced down at Club Hades's floor, at all the sets of eyes staring back up at our little theatrical performance. “Know what?” I asked, loud enough for everyone to hear me over even the Buddy Zepellin blaring from the sound system. “I'm done with you pieces of shit! Fuck all y'all bitches, I'm out of here!”

 

“Good!” Grin declared as Gov took a step back.

 

I shakily stood up, stripped out of my vest, with its patches and runners and the colors I'd been swaddled in as a boy. I could feel my tears welling up, even, as I realized I was basically killing my old self, that I was shedding my old skin. I looked Grin right in the eye. “Take this shit,” I yelled, throwing my vest at him, “and shove it up your ass, traitor.”

 

I was careful not to throw it on the ground. I couldn't dishonor the colors for anything, not even for our little play. Besides, that kind of disrespect would get my ass stomped by every man in the MC before I even hit the door, ex-president or not.

 

Gov glanced back at me then, with a fake grimace twisting his face, he began to strip out of his vest. He shoved it into Grin's hands along with mine. He nodded to me, resolute to stand by my side.

 

“Traitor?” Grin asked as I turned to walk away, Kaci under one arm giving me fake support. “Fuck you, Baby Jaws! You're the only goddamn traitor in this club. We're true F&B!”

 

I just held up my hand over my shoulder, giving him the finger as Kaci and Gov helped me to walk away. “Think everyone bought it?” I asked Kaci under my breath as we headed for the stairs.

 

“Oh yeah,” she said, her voice a little excited despite the tense and somber situation. “If we weren't going into witness protection, I'd say you should move to Hollywood.”

 

“Yeah,” I agreed. “Hollywood.” Forgetting how badly Grin had just banged up my face, I tried to give her a weak smile, but instead just ended up wincing in pain.

 

The alcohol might have given me plenty of courage, but it wasn't doing much to numb the pain. The adrenaline was still kicking high, slicing through the fogginess of all the beers I'd been drinking, and I could sense the tense undercurrent running through the crowd below.

 

“You did good,” Gov assured me, his face as downcast as I felt right then. “Real good, brother.”

 

“Thanks,” I replied, nodding. Kaci and I headed down the stairs ahead of him, the old wooden structure wobbling a little as we descended to the crowd of bikers below, who were already parting like the Red Sea for Moses.

 

We made our graceless exit from Club Hades, leaving our whole world behind as we headed for the back lot. Stripped of our vests, of our protection, just more meat for the machine. Eyes followed us as we trudged through the center of the club, but just as many averted away from us. I glanced up one last time, my eyes settling on Sydney and Grin.

 

Sydney nodded, her lips drawn down in a tight frown. I watched her sigh.

 

We were on our own, now, I realized. Completely on our own, and out in the cold.

 

# # #

Kaci

 

Gov and I helped Micah to the back door, his weight pressing down on me like a ton of drunken, dead bricks. All eyes were on us as we shuffled through the silent, staring crowd, their eyes all big and saucer-like as they just watched us go.

 

We parted ways with the crowd and entered the back hallway. There were still a couple of people back there, mostly bikers from the support clubs for the F&BMC, or just weekend warrior types.

 

Micah looked bad, real bad, with blood streaming down his face from a cut just above his eye. We needed to get him out of here as fast as possible. I had myself wedged up underneath Micah's armpit, and I had to really struggle to carry some of his weight. The way he was limping, I thought he might have twisted his ankle when he went down from Grin's last punch, but I just knew I didn't want him to put any more weight on it than he had to.

 

“Christ, you're heavy,” I groaned as we approached the back door.

 

“Ain't my fault you guys wanted me to do a good job,” he said, his voice morose sounding.

 

This was hitting him hard, I knew. This was his family, and he was giving it all up to try and save them, to protect them from the mistake he'd made when he'd picked Petrov for them. He was the one shouldering all their responsibility, even if most of the MC, or the support clubs associated with them, didn't know it.

 

“Hey, sugar,” some guy said just as I felt a hand grab my ass, “what're you doing with a loser like this shitbird?”

 

We stopped and I disengaged myself from Micah and went to turn around. “Excuse me?” I said, my voice arching as I focused on the bastard who'd just grabbed my ass.

 

He was big, well over six feet tall, and looked like he spent most nights at the gym. Tattoos covered his toned, bulging arms, and both legs looked like goddamn tree trunks.

 

I started to tell this fucker exactly what he could do. “Why don't you go-”

 

Micah, though, was moving before I could even finish my sentence. I'd never seen a man move like that, never before in my life. He was off of me, and springing onto the asshole. He slammed his forehead into Butt Grabber McGee's face, shattering his nose in a bloody spray, and sending him sprawling up against the wall.

 

Before you could say “ass beating,” the guy was pinned up against the wall, desperately protecting his vitals as Micah wailed on him. He threw fists faster than I could see, easily slamming into the beefy Butt Grabber's body half a dozen times before Gov finally realized what was going on.

 

Gov tried to pull him off the guy, but he'd dropped to his knees and Micah moved in for the kill with a cold fury I'd never seen before. “Micah! Come on, dude! Stop!”

 

“Never. Ever. Touch. My. Woman,” he said, his voice low and intense, with every word punctuated by a fist to the face.

 

Gov finally managed to grab hold of Micah, to yank him off the guy and soothe him a little. “Dude,” Gov said to his best friend, “you're ruining the act.”

 

Micah just grunted in return, and we headed on our way.

 

I should have been terrified that a man I'd slept with could do something like that, just leave a man in a puddle of blood and spittle in a back hallway without a second thought. I loved this guy, and he'd just demolished a man right before my eyes without even blinking.

 

Maybe it was the way he'd stood up for me against this guy, protected me. Or, maybe it was the way he'd done it so efficiently. Or it was maybe even the way he'd called me his woman while he was doing it. Whatever the reason was, I just let him slump back down over me, his knuckles now bloody and bruised, the smell of fight-sweat filling my nose, exciting me.

 

And that was when I realized just how much I cared for this man.

 

“Gonna be able to ride?” Gov asked as we pushed out into the back parking lot, the bright light of day shining down on our faces like a flare. We blinked at the sudden brightness and looked around the lot, but it was more or less empty of people.

 

Micah righted himself, as if on cue. He put all his weight on both feet like nothing had happened, and his eyes somehow refocused like he hadn't had any beer that day. “I'm fine,” he assured his buddy. “Meet you at the crib later?”

 

“Absolutely, man,” Gov said with a nod.

 

It was actually kind of astonishing, to be honest. This whole time he'd just been playing opossum, letting Grin look like the complete victor. I should've known something was up with the way he moved on that guy, but he'd slipped back into character so fast I thought it had just been his instincts kicking in for a moment.

 

Together, we walked over to his bike. “You sure you're okay?” I asked. “We can call a cab, you know.”

 

“Am I okay?” he asked, then laughed and spit some blood off to the side. “Nothing but a flesh wound. Grin went easy on me, like we planned. He was damn good in there though, wasn't he?” he said with a hint of admiration in his voice as he climbed on his bike.

 

“He was good?” I asked, laughing as I climbed up behind him. “You deserve a damn Emmy.”

 

“Was thinking more Oscar,” Micah said. “But, I guess everyone's a critic these days.”

 

He kicked the bike alive, and its engine rumbled and vibrated its way through my body. We tore off, out of the parking lot, and headed for chez Micah's.

 

The ride was short and uneventful. No one had followed us, no one was waiting for us. It seemed that Micah's exit had been performed well enough, and Grin was keeping everyone in line.

 

We headed inside from the garage and he slumped back into one his customary chair at the dining room table. I slapped a bag of frozen peas I'd grabbed from the freezer down in front of him, along with a beer for the pain.

 

“Thanks,” he mumbled.

 

“Welcome,” I said and slumped down with my own beer next to him. “Well, looks like we're in it, now.”

 

“Yep,” he agreed, closing his eyes.

 

We stayed like that for a while, just quiet. After the ruckus of the day, and all the pounding music and beer-drunk bikers, the silence was nice. Nice enough to the point that neither of us wanted to be the one responsible for breaking it.

 

A short while later, a yellow cab pulled up in front of the house. Soon after, Sydney was knocking at the front door.

 

“Hey girl,” she squeaked as I let her in and led her to the dining room. “Micah doing okay?”

 

I gave a snort of laughter. “Oh, he's doing fine,” I said. “He was just putting on a show for all of us, apparently.”

 

“Thought we weren't supposed to contact each other for a while?” Micah asked as we entered the dining room.

 

“I know, I know. But, there's been a change of plans, or situation, I guess. Grin heard that some of the Storm’s Bloods are taking over security for Efraim when he comes into town, something about him wanting to keep his hands clean.”

 

Shit.

 

I'd figured there'd be security when we met him, but just one or two guys. Not a whole gang of ornery, unemployed bikers who were gunning for Micah. This could upset my plans, maybe, make it more difficult for me to make my move on Efraim.

 

“Security, huh?” Micah asked, taking a drink off his beer. He and I exchanged a glance. “Thanks. That's good to know.”

 

“What're they doing that for anyways?” Sydney asked. “I mean, they're just bikers like you guys, right? They ain't security or nothing.”

 

“Nah,” Micah agreed. “But, I might've informed on them a little while ago. Most of their upper officers are sitting in Orleans Parish Prison right now because of me.” He grinned and set his empty beer down.

 

“We should probably let Avery know about the change,” I said.

 

“Yeah,” Micah agreed with a groan, shifting the bag of nearly thawed peas on his head. “Lemme grab another ice pack, and I'll give her a call.”

 

He heaved himself up from the dining room table and stalked into the kitchen, bag of half-frozen vegetables dangling from one hand and an empty beer bottle from the other. “You doing alright?” Sydney asked, raising an eyebrow at me.

 

“Fine,” I said. “Why wouldn't I be?”

 

“Well, Gov told me you were going to the meeting with Micah, and that it was your idea.”

 

“Yeah,” I said carefully, suddenly very aware of where my eyes were and what my hands were doing.

 

“Why?” she asked simply, her voice low enough that Micah wouldn't hear in the kitchen while he was on the phone with Agent Brumfield. “And don't fucking lie to me, girl.”

 

I sighed. I didn't want to tell her the truth. She'd pitch a fit louder than the whole biker rally earlier today. But, I couldn't outright lie to her, either. Sydney knew me too damned well for that to fly. “Look,” I finally said. “I just want to look that fucker in the eyes. Just once, okay?”

 

Sydney watched me carefully as I spoke, her unflinching gaze taking everything in.

 

I nearly held my breath as she scanned my face for any sign of a fib.

 

Finally, she nodded, accepting my answer as honest. “Sorry I doubted you,” she said. “I just, after all this shit that's been going on, I want you to be done with all this shit. You and Micah seem like you could be happy together, you know? You make a cute couple, at least.”

 

She was right. We could be. And we did. I hated to admit it, especially with what I was going to do with him. I smiled a little, trying to mask the pain I was feeling, and turned away from her. “Alright,” I said, waving her off. “Tell me what's going on with you since I haven't been around as much.”

 

We spent the next few minutes just chatting about how her life had changed, how much she was enjoying working at Club Hades. Grin had given her the day off for the rally, even though he shouldn't have. But, he knew they might need a go-between no one would suspect.

 

But, overall, Sydney liked her new life. She was even thriving for the first time in all these years. Which was a damned good thing. I was happy for her, that she could move on from our shit past so easily. I wished with all my heart that I could, too, even though I knew it was impossible for someone like me who had gone through what I'd gone through.

 

Micah came back into the room a little while later, while we were in the middle of Sydney talking about a cute biker she'd just met. Her eyes were lit up for the first time in years, and I hated to have to turn back to this shitty business.

 

“Alright,” Micah said as he turned his phone off. “Avery's dropping some files here in a little bit, pictures of all the surveillance they've got on the Storm’s Bloods. We can look them over and be able to spot them in a crowd.”

 

“Sounds good,” I said, nodding.

 

And, it was good news. Damn good, even. This way I'd know where the first bullet was coming from before I pulled the trigger on Efraim.