Once a brother, always a brother…

Once a God, always a God…

It was time to say goodbye.

“Serving this club has been the greatest honor of my life.” Zander, the Vice President of the Gods of Chaos Motorcycle Club, stood at the head of the table, his eyes stinging with tears. He didn’t need to hold them back.

We’re all brothers.

A few tears between us meant nothing. Each of us would have died to protect any one of the others. A few had done just that.

Those of us left standing were standing strong.

Ryder, the President, whose position he’d inherited from his father, stared up at Zander with pride filling his somber eyes. He and Zander had been through hell and back together, and it showed.

Riot, Slade, Wreck, and my lumbering frame, filled the other chairs, the whole lot of us endlessly loyal and devoted to Ryder.

The Gods are a small club, as clubs go.

But its a club nothing like other outlaw clubs.

The God’s held their character and reputation in high regard, doing work that other clubs would never bother to dirty their hands with.

The dirt the Gods handled was the kind that didn’t wash off. It was the kind that woke them up at night, full of sad, haunted eyes and memories that lingered way past their welcome.

Fortunately, they were the kind of men who never gave up, and for the people they’d rescued over the years, that was the most important virtue of all.

If Ryder had given up, he’d never have fallen in love with Grace.

If Riot had given up, he wouldn’t have Lacey waiting for him in the next room.

If Slade had given up, he wouldn’t be happy as a fly in horse shit and itching to get back home to his wife and son in Portland.

If I’d given up, and Lord knows there were times I wanted to, I wouldn’t be a doctor now.

And, if Grace had given up, the lives of all of these men would have taken dramatically different turns. Grace wouldn’t have survived to create the priceless collaboration that provided each of them with a real purpose in life.

Solid Ground was still going strong, the organization headquartered from Grace and Ryder’s compound, which included the clubhouse we were in now. They’d installed gates at the entrance to the long driveway, keeping out any stray cars that might wander down to the compound. Just in case, there were cameras now, too, beaming the images back to Riot’s new state-of-the-art office.

With the kind of work they did, you could never be too safe.

Danger was just another part of the business and we’d each seen our fair share of it and no doubt we’d see it again.

Despite all that, here we all were.

Still together.

Still going strong.

Unfortunately, we were all saying goodbye to a man we’d each grown to love and admire greatly. Zander had announced his decision to retire and the time had come to announce the appointment of the new Vice President.

Ryder stood up, embracing Zander. The two men held each other tightly, years of memories flooding over them. When they parted, the love they held for each other shined in their eyes, putting a lump in my throat.

Zander nodded firmly, then stepped back, as Ryder pulled the VP patch from the pocket of his cut.

“Zander’s been the best right hand I ever could have asked for,” he said, his voice a low, emotional growl. “His boots will be damned near impossible to fill. That being said, if I have to pick someone else to run this club with me, I choose Riot.”

Riot’s face broke out into a huge smile.

We all started hootin’ and clappin’ and stompin’ as Riot stood up and faced Ryder. Riot’s smile faded as the two men stared into each other’s eyes.

“I promise to do you proud,” Riot said. “Thank you, brother.”

“I’m already proud of you,” Ryder said, placing the Vice President patch on his cut, before pulling him in for a hefty hug.

Cheers erupted around the table. Slade began banging on the table, the loudest and proudest of all of us to see his best friend getting patched in as VP of the club they both held so dear. They’d grown up together and Slade had already told me he was amazed at how far they’d come together.

“Settle down, settle down,” Ryder said, pulling out a box from under the table. “I have one more thing I want to do today.”

We quietened down immediately, lest we piss off Ryder. Ryder was like a quiet storm, lingering in the corner, ready to take your ass down at any time. None of us wanted to be in the path of that storm.

“We all love Jason,” Ryder said, looking over at me. “You’ve been hanging around for a while now, and I’m proud to call you brother.”

“Thank you, Ryder,” I said, my voice husky with emotion.

“Your father would be proud of all you’ve accomplished.”

I fought back tears as he brought up my old man. I missed him more than I ever knew I could miss anyone. “I can say now that insisting you finish medical school instead of becoming a God after Doc’s death was the best thing I ever did. I’m proud of you, too.”

“Thank you, brother,” I said, blinking away the tears.

“With Zander leaving,” Ryder continued. “It leaves us one man short. I’d like to invite you to prospect with the club, Jason. I think it’s time.”

He pulled open the box and pulled out what was once my old man’s worn out cut. Emblazoned with the club’s patches on the back and the front altered with the word ‘Prospect’ just above the pocket.

Smiles spread across the table like wildfire, the biggest of all spread across my ugly mug.

“Ryder, I wasn’t expecting this,” I said, my eyes wide as I gazed up at him as he handed me the old worn leather.

“I know,” he said. “But it’s only right. I told you I’d consider it after you finished your education. I know you’re busy at the hospital, but we’d still like you to join us in whatever capacity you have time for. You’re family. Just like Doc was. Everyone has to prospect first, but in about a year’s time, you should be patched in fully.”

“Ryder, brother, I don’t know what to say,” I said, standing up and walking over to him. Ryder slipped the cut over my shoulders and my heart pounded in my chest. I’d dreamed of this moment since I was a teenager, watching with envy as my old man enjoyed the camaraderie and brotherhood of the Gods. I’d given up on becoming an official God long ago, content to just be a part of the extended family.

But this? It just seemed right.

It was like finally coming home.

“Say yes, Bones!” Slade shouted, using his favorite nickname for me.

The Gods broke out in laughter and I nodded, looking around at my smiling brothers.

“Hell, yeah, man!” I shouted, joy bounding from my chest.

Suddenly, they were gathered around me, patting me on my back roughly and pulling me in for even rougher hugs. My eyes filled with tears as I thought of my old man. I’d grown up wanting to be just like him, knowing I’d never be able to fill the rugged boots he wore.

I’d given up on ever wearing leathers, instead pursuing medicine, hoping to make him proud in a white coat instead.

“Life comes full circle, Bones,” Ryder said.

“Welcome to the Gods of Chaos!” Riot shouted.

I shook my head in disbelief, proudly displaying my cut like a damned peacock.

“Time to celebrate!” Slade cried out, already half out the door with a bottle of Jack in his hand.

Before long, we gathered around a raging bonfire, the stars shining down on us all. The ladies of Solid Ground joined us — Cherry, Grace, Lacey and Frankie — the beauty glowing from each of them brighter than the stars above us.

Oliver and Olivia, the two bonded owls that had adopted our family long before I arrived, sat watching us celebrate with wide, wise eyes from a nearby tree.

I looked around at the gang of them, my heart swelling with pride. I took a deep smokey breath, relishing the heaviness of the cut on my shoulders as a huge smile spread across my face.

This was what life was about.

This was family.

This was love.