Chapter 34

Dart

When we reconvene, Road escorts Heart into the room. I stare at the man who’d I’d last seen lying in his hospital bed. There’s no sign of repentance as he loosens his shoulders like he’s physically shaking off the touch of the man who’d brought him here. He doesn’t attempt to take his seat, but stands at the end of the table, looking defiantly at Drummer.

“You’ve put hands on an employee.” Drum states. Heart simply shrugs. “And were stopped from raping an unwillin’ woman.”

“I wasn’t going to rape her. She’s a whore. Just like the others who work at the club.”

That makes me see red. If Alex hadn’t been injured she’d still be there dancing. Is that what he thinks my old lady is?

“Dart.” Drummer notices me tensing and stops me as he growls my name. Then his attention falls on the man standing at the end of the table again. “Even whores are entitled to say no.”

Heart’s changed. He says nothing to defend himself, just stands, back ramrod straight. He looks more hardened now, his features seem to be fixed in a scowl. He looks nothing at all like the man I’d prospected with. He’s kept his hair long on the side that hasn’t been shaved, the hair on the other side starting to grow back. It’s adds to his demeanour of imbalance.

Drummer seems to have had enough. He’s texting again, and now Hyde and Jekyll appear. “Take Heart outside and wait in the clubroom. Make sure he doesn’t go anywhere. And,” Drum’s eyes flick to me, “keep him away from the women. Especially Alex.”

“What don’t I know, Prez.” I say through gritted teeth as Heart is led away.

Drum strokes his beard before letting me in on some other facts. “Heart’s been sayin’ some hurtful shit to your woman. She said nothin’, but Road told me what he heard.”

“Her ethnicity?”

“Yeah, other personal comments too. And the fact you wouldn’t be faithful.”

Heart should have minded his own fuckin’ business. “Thanks for the heads up.”

Drum bangs the gavel. “I’d ask if you’re all ready for this, but I know you won’t be, ‘cause I’m not. Can’t put this off. We’ve got to discuss Heart’s fate. What he’s done can’t go unpunished.”

“He gonna lose his patch?” Fuck. I might be mad at him for insulting my old lady, but would I really want to see that happen? And where would we go from there? Out bad, like the men at San Diego, or worse, put down like rabid dog as we’d disposed of Snake and Poke? Christ, now I know why I was called back. I need to be part of this decision. I’m closer to Heart, or was, than any of my other brothers. Like Road, Jekyll, and Hyde, we’d prospected alongside each other. Doing the type of unsavoury stuff together which forms a strong bond.

The VP raises his hand. “Heart’s been through some shit, and it’s changed him. His brain injury might account for his behaviour. Whether it’s temporary or permanent, there’s no way of knowing. But that man who was just standin’ there without any remorse? I barely recognise him.” As he finishes, Wraith shakes his head.

“PTSD?” Marvel makes the suggestion.

“Or survivor’s guilt. And now he’s trying to get hurt. Or givin’ us an excuse to finish what the accident didn’t.” Mouse looks concerned.

“So there’s mitigatin’ circumstances.” Drum’s listening to the comments.

“Or he could just be being an ass,” Beef grumbles.

“And there’s that.” A few chuckles, but they’re half-hearted. Drum waits for quiet again. “I’ll remind you. We can take his patch, put him out in bad standin’, or we send him to meet Satan. Ain’t no other option I can think of.”

“I know, knew, him best, Prez.” When Drum lifts his chin, I continue, “The man that he was lived for two things, his family—his wife and child—and for the club. He’s already lost one part of that. If we take the other away I don’t think he’ll survive.”

“He wants nothin’ to do with the kid. Poor child can’t understand why her daddy’s ignorin’ her.” Fuck, I didn’t know that was still the way of it. My eyes go to Wraith’s, and he nods as if to confirm his words are the truth of it.

Fuck, I need a cigarette. Getting out my pack, I pass it around, then flick my lighter and inhale deeply.

Prez gives those of us with a nicotine addiction time to fill our lungs. “I agree with Dart. Heart might not thank us now, but I don’t think he wants to lose his patch. I’ve had several conversations with him before he came back. I wanted him here for Amy, and perhaps I pressed him too hard and he returned too soon. Should have left him where he was for a bit longer.”

“This ain’t on you, Prez.” The VP’s quick to admonish him. “This is all on him, and the choices he made.”

“He knows the rules.” Slick appears to be thinking aloud. “And he went against them. He wants to force our hand and get him out of the club.”

“Or dead,” Mouse emphasises again. “Crystal was more than his ol’ lady, more than his wife. She was his soulmate. He probably can’t see a way to move on.”

“And buryin’ her while he was unconscious couldn’t have helped. He didn’t have a chance to say a final goodbye.”

“His head’s all fucked up. Can’t make final decisions on a man who’s not in his right mind.”

Drum puts his elbows on the table and lowers his head into his hands. Apart from a couple of softly murmured conversations, the rest of us are quiet, giving the prez a chance to think things through. I’m almost holding my breath as I wait for him to pronounce my brother’s fate. If there’s a chance that the real Heart will come back in time, I don’t want to have to vote on a permanent solution. If Mouse is right, and he’s trying to provoke us into killing him, well, I don’t think I could give my assent to that. Christ, what a fuck-up to come home to. Heart, how could you have been so stupid? You must have known the club couldn’t accept your behaviour.

Time ticks by. My leg’s bouncing under the table, and my hands are clenching. Memories of Heart and I at everyone’s beck and call flood through me. Heart was the one who boosted my spirits when I’d thought I’d had enough and couldn’t take it anymore. Heart had been there for me through every one of those hard days prospecting, and every day since, until that fatal day he was deliberately knocked off his bike. His actions over the last few days can’t wipe all of that out. I’m not going to vote on something that’s final. I simply can’t.

At last Drummer raises his head, and his steely grey eyes roam around the table. He looks tired, worn. My heart sinks, almost afraid to hear what he’s going to say.

“I’ve got a proposal,” he starts, and all faces turn to him, and all other conversations cease. “I can’t have Heart at this club, that’s for sure. And he doesn’t want to be here, we’ve already discussed that.” He pauses and takes a breath. Looking at my hands, I see they are trembling, anticipating the worst. “Man needs time to recover from a loss such as Heart’s, and on top of that, fuck knows what effects his brain injury might be havin’. Yes, he went against our rules, and our moralities. Or that’s how it appeared. You say he was stopped in time, Dollar, he didn’t actually rape the woman. Was he bankin’ on someone steppin’ in? We can’t know that answer. But I’m not proposin’ we dispatch him to Satan on an intention we can’t prove.”

My sigh of relief is echoed around the table.

The prez hasn’t finished. “If we send him out in bad standin’, he’s finished. He can never return to the club. Which brings me to Amy. I can’t take away the chance that one day she’ll have her father back.”

Wraith taps his fingers against the table. “If he’s out bad, he might take her with him.”

“I don’t know that he would, Wraith. And if he does, what kind of life could he make for a kid, with no home and no job?” Drummer shakes his head. “At the moment, Amy is better off with us. At least Sam and I can give her some kind of normality. But one day, I hope, Heart will wake up and remember what a great kid he has.” Suddenly a look of determination appears on his face. “My suggestion is he becomes a Ronin. For six months. Then he returns and we re-evaluate at that time.”

I sit up straight, and my eyes meet Slick’s, who’s raising his eyebrow. Ronins, so named after the Japanese Samurai warriors who no longer served a particular lord, travel alone. They have no affiliation with any club, but often carry a token which means they are given a level of respect by dominant clubs in the areas they travel through.

“He’d have to follow protocol, Prez. He can’t expect respect in return if he doesn’t abide by the universal rules that govern a biker’s life. Could he do that? In the state he’s in?”

“The old Heart would,” I reply to Blade.

Drummer nods at me. “He’s got a choice. Become a Ronin, or out bad.”

“Why not just transfer him to another chapter?” Marvel asks, frowning. The idea of sending Heart out as a lone biker not settling well with him. “If he’s havin’ difficulty copin’, don’t like the idea of him being on his own.”

Neither do I. But I don’t see any other option. For now, at least, he’s burned his boats here.

Drum is quiet for a second, giving the suggestion his careful consideration, and then responds. “Don’t like the thought of transferrin’. Can be a problem.” He looks pointedly at Wraith, who’s nodding his head, and I reckon what happened with Buster is top on his mind. “I can’t take responsibility for him, not how he is right now.”

Our faces are all sombre, but we’re all nodding.

“Okay. I don’t see there’s much more to discuss. Ready to vote? Heart is given the chance to become a Ronin?”

Sending my brother out on the road with no back-up or base, and no one to call on? Leaving him to the mercy of any wolves that might find him? That doesn’t sit well with me, but neither do the alternatives. As I sit pondering, I realise the votes started. As each man says aye, I find I’m joining them. Beef, who appears to have taken over the secretary role in my absence, records it.

“Shall I get him back in?” Wraith asks.

“No. We can’t overlook the important point. Whatever the outcome would have been if Heart hadn’t been stopped last night, we’ve got a stripper who thought she was gonna be raped. If Tinker can’t put this behind her, we’ll have lost a fuckin’ good employee and some of our income from what he’s done. Club rules are there for a reason, and Heart knowingly broke them. I can’t allow him to get away scot free.”

My eyes narrow as I contemplate what he’s thinking, but he doesn’t keep us waiting long.

“Hate to say this, brothers, but the man we just seen deserves a beat down. I know how much the man we knew and loved meant to ya all, but that’s not the man that was just standin’ in front of us.”

“He’s only just recovered, Prez. Don’t you think that’s too harsh?”

I’m surprised when Drummer grins. “While I’m thinkin’ another blow to the head might help put him right, we’ll avoid hittin’ him there, just in case.”

“You’re suggestin’ we take it easy on him?” Blade, as enforcer, looks like he disagrees. I toss him a glare.

“Not that easy, but yeah, hold your punches some, and don’t muddle his brain worse than it is.” The prez grins wider. “Anyone here who’s taken a beat down knows anticipation is half of the game. He probably won’t even suss we’re just givin’ him bruises to remember us by.”

Half an hour later we assemble in the gym at the back of the clubhouse, this isn’t something old ladies should witness. Heart is brought in, Jekyll and Hyde each have hold of one of his arms, and Road’s following behind.

As we circle around, Heart stands in the middle. Once again, he stands stoically, his shoulders drawn back, his feet apart and his hands held by his sides. He stares at the prez impassively, but I can see the glimmer of fear in his eyes.

He thinks this is the end, and he doesn’t want to die. In that moment, I get my first inkling that he might eventually recover.

“Vote’s taken,” Drummer informs him without preamble. “Take off your cut.”

A brief flash of regret, then he shrugs off his cut, letting it fall on the floor before kicking it towards his prez. Drum’s eyes blaze at the disrespect, and he bends, picks it up, folds it, and passes it to Wraith, who puts it safely on a piece of equipment.

“Club voted. Want you away for six months.”

Heart starts, as though that was the last thing he expected. But I can’t tell from his expression whether he’s happy or not. “Prez?”

Drummer continues, ignoring him. “You’re to become a Ronin. If you agree, you leave here in the mornin’. No fanfare or fuckin’ send off.

After a moment, Heart takes in a deep breath. When he lets it out, he asks, “Six months?”

“Far as I’m concerned, until your time’s up you don’t call the members of this chapter ‘Brother’. You hear me? You’re out on the road on your own. You fucked up good, Heart. And left us with a mess to clean up.”

That gets to him. And to me. He’s been my brother for six years. I swallow down my sadness and try to keep it from my face.

Taking a step toward him, Drummer continues, “You promise me now, that if you do this, you don’t bring disrespect on this club, or any other. If I hear, and I will fuckin’ hear, you’ve been causing problems elsewhere, then you won’t even be out bad. You’ll be dead.”

After swallowing a couple of times, Heart nods. Then follows it up with words. “I hear ya, Prez.”

“That’s yer fuckin’ choice, Heart. Out in bad standin’, or Ronin.”

He brings his hands up to his head and links his fingers behind his neck and stands with his head bowed. After a moment, he brings his arms back to his sides and pulls his shoulders up straight. “I’ll become a Ronin.” It’s said with determination.

Prez nods. That’s done. Decided. But for Heart, it doesn’t end there. “Can’t let you go without lettin’ your brothers show how fuckin’ disappointed they are in you, Heart. You fucked up. Can’t let you walk away unmarked.”

His body stiffens as it dawns on him what’s about to happen.

“Now you going to take it like the Heart we used to know, or do I have to get the prospects to hold ya?”

That’s an insult, and Heart knows it. He’s never been a coward.

“Give me what you got, Prez.”

“I ain’t your prez. Not until six months have passed. And then we’ll see where yer head’s at then.” As Drummer’s speaking he steps up. I can tell he’s not put his usual strength behind it, but it still causes Heart to involuntarily double up.

When he straightens, it’s Wraith’s turn, then Peg, then Blade. Dollar follows after. One by one the men step up, each eyeing him up carefully before placing the blows, and all of them avoiding his head and the left side of his body. Although they’re pulling their punches, Heart’s gasping for breath and on his knees by the time I take my turn.

As I step forward, his eyes meet mine, and for a second I’m unable to pull back my arm, certain I see the remorse in his eyes, and memory of our special relationship. Then the corners of his mouth turn up and he gives a twisted grin. “Heard you’ve got a taste for that black bitch’s ass. By the time I’m back you’ll have got tired of her and I’ll have me a piece of that.”

Even as my arm swings I know he’s done it on purpose, riled me up so I’d play my part, but that doesn’t stop my rage getting behind the blow. My fist connects with his chin knocking his head back.

“For fuck’s sake!” Drummer roars.

Shit. I shouldn’t have done that.

“Just finish it up.” At least prez sounds more weary than angry now as he looks at the man I’ve laid out cold.

The rest of the brothers give a few half-hearted kicks, and then it’s done, and Heart is still flat out on the ground.

“Jekyll, Hyde. Get him to one of the crash rooms. And get Doc here to give him a look-over. Road. Take all the patches off his cut. I think we’ve got a Ronin one around here somewhere.”

He waits until the prospects all nod, then as Prez goes to leave the room he belts me around the head. Well, I deserved it. As I straighten again he shakes his head sadly. “He knew. I knew. You weren’t gonna be able to bring yourself to touch him. He gave you a reason, Brother. There’s enough of him left inside to give you that.”

I stare at Heart, who’s starting to come round with a groan. “Know that, Drum. Know that.”