Necessity
There are times when we make a choice because we want to, but often we make them out of necessity. Circumstances beyond our control guide our decisions. They are not easy. They are painful. But we believe they are for the best.
BREEZE
I COULDN’T STAND the tortured expression before me.
“You can tell me anything,” I prompted Shame.
His hand hovered above my elbow. I felt the heat from his skin. The tightness of his expression seemed angry as he spoke. “I’m done denying how I feel. Fuck if it’s illegal and immoral.”
“Are you saying you want to be with me?” I asked. My body filled with warmth, with hope.
“More than anything,” he choked out.
“Shame, I . . .” I didn’t know exactly what to say, so I slid my hand up under his jaw, and closed my eyes. The much-desired kiss never came. Shame took two steps back.
“Wait. What I want and what’s right . . . they ain’t ever gonna blend. How I feel . . . it doesn’t change anything. Don’t you understand? You deserve to know you mean everything to me, but this life . . . it ain’t ever gonna allow us to be together. It’s too dangerous. Let it go.”
“I don’t want to.”
“You have to. I couldn’t stand it if something happened to you because of me. You have this chance at life . . . A good life. Trust me. I’m stuck here and I won’t let you stay for me. Worse, I won’t let Dixon use you to get to me. Get out. Graduate college, marry a guy who wears a suit to work and raise babies in a place where you don’t have worry some gang banger is going to swipe them off the street and—”
“I love you,” I interrupted, because I didn’t want to get married or have babies with anyone but Shame.
“Ah, Jesus.” He glanced away. “Dixon will kill you. I’ll never let that happen. I’ll never be with you. Not even when the law allows it.” His gaze fell to the carpet. “I’m jealous of the guy you’ll build a life with, but you have to understand why it can’t be me.”
I considered his words again, focusing on what it would be like to raise a family in the turmoil constantly surrounding the club. While I hated admitting it, the club wasn’t the life I wanted for my future children, and sadly Shame would never leave the club, not for me or anyone else. I had reached a crossroad and I knew which direction I need to go.
“I understand,” I whispered.
My heart was broken, but for the first time since meeting Shame, I did truly understand. The last twenty-four hours had convinced me. Shame had convinced me. Or I was simply accepting the necessity to live a lie.
Protecting those we love can become a necessity. It can mean losing something you want more than anything, or someone. We believe there is no other alternative. Our decision becomes final. Sticking to that decision becomes as essential as breathing.
SHAME
After my chat with Breeze, I went for a drive through Blue Hills. I pulled over to a lookout spot above my city. I could see all of her, a city of tradition, pride and foundation. I vowed to protect her, and I would start with The Villains before they perverted her any further.
I answered my ringing phone as I watched the sun lower in the clouds. “Maddie?”
“Dixon wasn’t there, The Kings either.” Her voice rose with excitement, which confused me, until she added. “But we got the girls.”
“Fuck.” I was happy she saved the girls, but the end result should have been Dixon in handcuffs.
“We rescued thirty-two girls, Shame. You did a good thing.”
I scratched my beard, thinking thirty-two girls wasn’t enough. “Breeze’s friend?”
“She was there. She’s with her parents now.”
I looked back over my city and saw chaos. “So Dixon gets away with it?”
“No. He’s not going to quit running girls. He’ll slip up.”
I assumed Maddie would be moving on. “Aren’t you leaving now?”
“No. I’m not going anywhere until Dixon is behind bars.”
Worry settled in my gut. I finally got my sister back and I didn’t want to lose her, but I wanted her safe. “You have to go. Dixon will figure this out. He’ll know it was Michael.”
“Cole and Michael are too close. They won’t suspect him.”
With that she reminded me the club still had a rat. Maddie was in danger. “They might already know. You have to get outta Southie. They knew you were coming. That’s why they were gone.”
“That’s not possible.”
“Maddie!” I shouted. “I never found the rat.”
“Who did you tell?” she asked rushed.
“Only Tank and Dozer and Kegger mighta been there.”
“No way they know then. None of them would—”
“Dusty . . . Mother fucker,” I said at the same time realization hit me. “Dusty was there before we left for the warehouse. He must have heard.”
“Are you sure?” she asked.
“Has to be. It was always small shit Dixon’s crew found out about. Dusty isn’t privy to much. It makes sense.”
“Damn it, Shame,” she bellowed. “He blew a five-year investigation. I’m going to eat shit for this.”
“I’m sorry, Mad.”
The line was dead before I said another word. I sent a quick text to Tank.
Me: Dusty’s the rat. Call a meeting. I’ll be there in thirty.
A thick cloud settled in my mind as I drove to the clubhouse. The only thought not muffled was ending Dusty. I took that little fuck in when he had nowhere else to go because my pop knew his old man. He ran with the Aryans, preaching the white-only gospel of the past. He thought hate crimes with his bothers made him a man. He moved up the chain quickly until his brothers discovered his ma was a mestizo. When his gang of psychos put him in the hospital, he called me for help. I made him one of us.
He earned the nickname Dusty because he never hesitated to dust anyone who betrayed the club. How ironic he would be dusted next.
Rage shot to the surface when I spotted his truck in front of the clubhouse. My heavy footsteps echoed in my ears as I made my way up the walk. An example would be made. Don’t fuck with my club. Don’t fuck with me. And don’t fuck with my family.
My brothers all looked at me as I walked through the front door. I immediately found Dusty. Guilt was written all over his expression. In three steps, Tank had time to pull a gun from his waistband and fire at Dusty’s chest until the clip emptied. The guys shot to their feet but didn’t speak a single word. His fate had been decided. Dusty had to go, but this was a mess. I dragged the back of my hand across my lips to wipe away the sweat that had formed. “Take this rat to the line and toss him over,” I spoke directly to Dozer.
He nodded. “You heard him. Tex, you come with me,” Dozer ordered. “The rest of you, clean this up.”
I went to the office and sat in the chair that still smelled like my old man’s cigars. It was my chair now, only it came with heavy responsibilities.
Tank entered the office and sat in the chair next to mine.
“You should’ve waited.” I growled at my best friend.
“For what?” he hissed. “Your conscience?”
I wasn’t in the mood for his righteousness, or a lecture on why being ruthless was necessary.
“This ain’t about how I feel.” I looked right at him. “I would’ve done what needed to be done, but he knew things. Things that could help us.”
Tank leaned forward. “He wasn’t gonna tell us shit.”
“We should’ve tried.”
“That’s why your old man never wanted you in that chair. You think too much.”
I stared at my friend, wondering if he had always been so hard.
“Leaders make tough decisions,” Pop told me the night before he died. “That’s not who you are. Now, Liam, he’s got that ruthlessness built into him. He’ll make a great leader, and some day he’ll sit in this chair. Much as I wish you were like me, you’re too smart for this life. That doesn’t mean I’m not proud of you, college boy. I am.”
Would he still be proud of me and of his legacy?
The club had killed a husband and a father without affording the opportunity to defend himself.
“What my old man would’ve done is irrelevant.” I tapped my finger into the hard wood. “You should’ve waited for my word.”
“I did you a favor. We’re a team. You might have brains, but I take care of the hard shit.”
I pounded my fist on the wood in front of him. “Don’t mistake our friendship for a partnership. This is my fucking club! You got that? Dusty would’ve caved and thanks to you, we lost our only chance to learn what Dixon knows about the club. You take care of the hard shit only when I tell you to. Right?”
“Fuck you, Shame.”
Tank stormed out of the room and I punched the desk again. I was losing it and I didn’t know why. I assumed the feelings I had developed for Breeze were turning me into a pussy. Whatever was going on, I had to man up for the club.
Breeze marched into the room without knocking. “What did you do?”
I didn’t lift my head because I knew how she felt about Dusty. “I did what I had to.”
“I saw them take Dusty outside.”
“So.”
“Look at me, goddamit!” With a firm jaw, I lifted my head and met her tear-filled eyes. “Is he dead?”
“Yes.”
“He was your friend,” she said, backing away.
I wanted to reach for her, console her, or maybe it was me who needed consoling. My trust had been broken, but I allowed it to happen. I screwed up with Dusty.
“He was a rat,” I snarled.
“So you kill him?”
She would never understand our world, or truly fit in. She was a cop’s daughter, born on a side with a different set of laws than the clubs. “He knew the consequences.”
“It’s not right. He has a kid, Shame. A little boy who’s going to want to know where his father is.”
I rubbed my forehead before I stood up and went to her. She slid her hands around my waist. I held her close to my chest, but didn’t know what to say. Dusty had made a choice when he crossed the club. His son would suffer for that betrayal. It wasn’t right. It was just how things were done. It was just. “I’m sorry,” I whispered into her hair. “We’ll take care of his family. I promise.”
There was nothing more to say. She would understand or she wouldn’t. The club would never change. And Breeze would never truly fit in. Soon, she would be able to start her own life, because she had too big of a heart for mine.
Making decisions out of necessity hurts. It guts us. It makes our chest ache and our stomach hurt. It makes us wretched and intolerable. We hold steadfast because looking at any other possibly means we were wrong.