Maddox – Six Months Later

“He’s hanging it over the club like a fucking ax. We strike hard. That’s the only way. We go in there and take him the fuck out.”

E.Z. had been making the same case every single time in Church since Fitzie had defected to The Hawks.

“We’ve been over this and voted,” Bear said.

The two of them were fighting more and more. E.Z. had more than just a few members on his side, and more with every vote. And I was holding to my promise to Bear. I was voting no – no war.

Two wars were brewing, one against The Hawks and another right here at the table within The Saints.

I hadn’t missed a session of Church since we’d rescued Tracy from Fitzie. I knew part of the reason we were closer to war was me. My single-minded focus on pinning Olivia’s shooting on The Hawks had made a bad situation worse.

I couldn’t change that. But I could bring Sarge’s counsel to the table. And I would hold fast to my promise to Bear to keep Sarge out of this.

Thanks to Tracy, I’d become more open to listening to what Sarge wanted to say about this life. I heeded Sarge’s warning because he knew the path we were on.

“There’s a reason Bear and E.Z. don’t have many brothers in the club that came up when they did,” Sarge had said to me. Saints from their generation had paid the highest price in the last club war.

I’d been sharing the workings, the debates, the incursions of The Devil’s Hawks with him after each meeting. He shared with me the history, perspectives, and warnings of what had happened and what could happen again with one wrong word.

“Bear and E.Z. and a handful of others are the only ones in that generation. When I was Prez, we lost so many of them. It was more than I could take after it was over.”

I hadn’t really talked to Dad about why he’d left the head chair at the table when he did. It was so long ago. I’d been a kid. I was learning now.

“I’ll hold the line as long as I can.”

I promised Sarge that much. I would be against full out war, as long as I could. Or at least as long as Bear said so.

Everyone expected me to lead the charge against The Hawks. I had been so ready for blood after Olivia. But things were different now. I knew my rage, my need for vengeance had set me and the club down the wrong path. I wasn’t going to be responsible for that again.

Fitzie had gotten away; there was nothing I could do to change that.

And The Hawks kept getting bolder. How and when to stop that was the ongoing debate at Church.

We voted again, and the margin was smaller. The Saints were fighting over this every week but if we did something to strike back at The Hawks it would be with one mind, one fist.

We voted again, and the peace remained for another day. Until the next time The Hawks fucked with us. It was never-ending.

Church was over for the day and Bear put a hand on my shoulder as I filed out.

“Maddox, hang back?” Bear asked me.

“Yep.”

“I’m glad you’re back with us, truly back.”

Sarge had been right about that too: I needed the club and I was better in than out.

“Yeah, me too.”

“This vote is getting closer. It’s one thing for them to try to operate in Port Az. It’s another for them to give sanctuary to Fitzie. You’ve got the most reason to go after him, to want a full-on assault against The Hawks. I want to tell you, you’re doing the right thing for the club. I see that.”

“Sarge and I both know what war will bring. And I’ve got just as much reason to keep a war from happening.”

“Yeah, your own little nurse in training.”

“Ha, Josie inspired her to go for it.”

“My Old Lady never leaves well enough alone. That’s for damn sure.”

“And you love her for it.”

Bear snorted at that. Being back was good. Axle, Kade, Benz, the whole crew hadn’t blinked when I needed them. That’s what I’d forgotten in my self-imposed exile. That my family wasn’t just Sarge and Olivia: it was the club, and now it was Tracy.

I had a beer with my brothers after Church, and then I hit the road for home. Tracy was in class and I wanted to be back at The Castle by the time she was done.

She’d driven herself. At least I’d convinced her to give up public transportation for a while. At least she wasn’t walking to bus stops and waiting there. It was something.

I was still paranoid about her being out without me. It was an ongoing argument. Maybe it always would be.

The house, as usual these days, smelled like fresh paint. Tracy would be happy to see today’s progress in her ongoing rehab of this relic.

I walked through the house and out the back. I came here now, o the water, to think, instead of up to the third floor to fester.

It was progress.

There was a stone path, a bench, and a simple marker in the backyard.

One of Olivia’s binders had a sketch of how she’d planned to bring a flowerbed back to life along the west side of the house. It was overgrown and brown when Tracy started. It was colorful and green today. Tracy said weeding was all the therapy she needed.

Tracy was all the therapy I needed.

That and time here, with Olivia.

Olivia was laid to rest in this part of the garden. She was our Sunflower in the sunflowers.

She’d slipped away quickly, quietly, and peacefully three months ago now. Sarge’d sobbed, I’d sobbed, but then something unlocked in both of us. Almost in the house itself, too.

We’d been living in a place between light and dark. It wasn’t equal. The dark had a way of winning. It had encased the house. It had frozen our lives along with Olivia’s.

After Olivia left us, the darkness receded. She seemed to be shining down on the house now, instead of holding us all in sorrow, in sleep.

I read the marker: Olivia Maddox, Beloved Daughter, Beautiful Sister. Tracy had made this place for her. She’d followed Olivia’s sketches and brought them to life.

“You better get in here and help!” I heard Sarge bellowing from the dining room. He hadn’t had dinner in his room in months. Now the three of us ate together, at least once a day, and it had done Sarge a world of good.

It had done me a world of good.

“I’m coming!”

Bella was in the kitchen with Sarge. She’d become more Sarge’s dog than mine and he’d even gotten strong enough to take small walks with her.

“Tracy has the slow cooker going and all we have to do is set the damn table. I don’t want to be here when she gets home from class if we don’t have that done.” Sarge had lost about thirty-pounds thanks to Tracy’s food and exercise plan.

He was breathing easier.

I still saw him linger as he passed Olivia’s room. I didn’t expect that would ever change. She was his baby girl, and now she was with my Mom. Sarge’s eyes reflected loss and so did mine. There wasn’t anything either of us could do to change that. But most days, these days, were good.

“Neither do I, old man. Neither do I.”

The two of us put out the three plates. We were a strange little family, Sarge, Tracy, and me. But we were a family now, even if it wasn’t official.

I worried every single day that the club that Sarge had started would cause Tracy more pain and bring her danger. But she wouldn’t leave me. It was its own miracle.

“It wasn’t a club war that killed your sister, it was basic human frailty,” she reminded me when I tried to push her out of my life.

She’d made the choice to stay with me, no matter what I was, or who I was. We didn’t talk about Jonesy C.

And I made a deal to try to keep a war at bay, even though I still seethed with rage at Fitzie. And The Hawks.

My instinct was still to go after them and exact blood.

But I couldn’t let that darkness ruin the light that Olivia and now Tracy fought for every day.