Brent
By the time Brent rolled up to his house, he was about ready to pass out, his whole body aching with exhaustion as he parked Kira’s car in his driveway. He was so tired that it took him several seconds to notice the seven or so motorcycles that were parked in his driveway, right next to his garage. What the hell was going on?
“Stay in the car, Dylan,” Brent said as he undid his seatbelt and got out of the car. “Just stay put.”
Brent squared and his shoulders and straightened his back as he walked up his front sidewalk. His heart pounded when he noticed several dark figures crowded on his front stoop.
“Yo, Brent!” a familiar voice yelled as he approached his front porch.
“Did you go by the clubhouse?” another voice said as he scaled the front steps, breathing hard as he approached the group of people gathered around his front door.
Brent finally looked up to inspect the faces of the various men on the front porch. “Yeah, I’m locked out,” he said to Howie, who was sitting on the front step, his face warped with overt worry.
“It’s Jethro,” one of the senior members, Oliver, said. He stepped up to wrap his arm around Brent’s shoulders. Brent felt stiff and uncomfortable, unsure of whether or not to trust the man hugging him, but he finally relaxed into his grasp, looking around to the other men crowded around him. “Jethro got all the young bucks fired up, and they took over. Ran us out.”
“It’s true,” Howie said. His eyes were full of sadness as he looked directly at Brent. “He came in with guns, right when all of us were playing cards in the main bar room. We didn’t have a chance.”
Brent didn’t know what to say. He stared blankly at each man as they took turns hugging him, pressing him close to their chests one by one by one. “Okay,” he murmured, feeling weirdly distant from all of the people crowded around him.
“We’re ready to go, Brent,” Howie said. “Just say the fucking word, and we’re on it.”
“On what?” Brent asked. What were they talking about? They’d already lost the war. Jethro and the younger members had taken over the MC, without even calling for a vote. It was apparently that easy to turn all of the older, more seasoned members away. What else was there to do? They couldn’t exactly go to the clubhouse and start a firefight, not without expecting to die themselves. What exactly could they even do?
“Taking the club back,” Oliver said, his eyes wild and full of some fiery emotion that Brent couldn’t access at the moment. “We’re ready to fight for you.”
Brent felt empty, numb, full of dull, formless matter that couldn’t be transmuted into anything living. He felt like all of his organs had been replaced with thick grey cloth. “For me?” he parroted blankly.
“Yeah!” Oliver said enthusiastically. “We’re going to take the Soul Catchers back.”
Brent was silent for a long time, staring at his own front door, imagining what Kira would look like if everything was normal and she was waiting for him right beyond that door, a disapproving look on her face like any other normal day. “What about Kira?” he murmured, thinking out loud.
“Kira?” Howie asked. “The girl you’ve got watching your kid?”
“Woman,” Brent said reflexively. “She’s a woman. Not a little girl.”
Howie nodded. “Yeah. Kira. What’s up with her?”
“She’s in jail,” Brent said. “In there on some trumped up child abuse charge.”
The men turned and looked at each other for several seconds before they all turned back to look at him. “What do you need from us?” Howie asked.
“I don’t know,” Brent said honestly. “I need to get her a real lawyer so she can stand a chance in court, but since Jethro and the other guys have knocked me out of the club, I can’t really help her.”
“Milton? I can call him and get him here in thirty seconds,” Oliver said. He dug his phone out of his pocket. “Just say the word.”
Brent was silent for a minute, looking towards the car where Dylan still waited for him. “Really?” he asked softly, a little afraid to speak louder than a whisper.
“Hell, yeah,” Oliver said without hesitation. “We’re ready to go, boss. Just say the word.”
Brent didn’t know what “the word” was, but he felt his heart pick up its pace inside his chest, pounding for what felt like the first time in years. “Okay,” he whispered. He reached out to take Oliver’s offered hand, shaking it firmly before letting his hand fall back to his side. “We’ve got to go to the jail as soon as possible.” Kira was waiting for him, probably thinking that she’d given up on him forever. He couldn’t wait any longer.