Page 16 of Omega's Bears

“It’s not as if it was my first time,” I tell him. “My last clan were bikers. We rode around all the time just for fun.”

“But did you ever do a three-day stretch?” Luka asks.

I have to concede that we never did. And I understand what he’s getting at. My legs and back are sore from being astride the bike all the time, and I’ve had a mild headache since yesterday. But none of that compares to the shock and worry I’ve been feeling about the crime I saw committed. Could I have done anything to stop it? I can’t seem to stop playing it over in my mind, trying to understand why it was necessary, trying to reassure myself that I was only a bystander and not complicit.

“I have something for you,” Luka says, reaching into his pocket.

For a moment, I’m worried it will be a portion of the stolen money—I’m not sure I’ll be able to accept that gift—but instead, he pulls out a small, circular piece of leather. Carefully painted on it is the image of a bear’s paw print. The two center claws have been elongated and curved to resemble devil horns. It’s the same tattoo I saw on Ryan’s shoulder the night I arrived, the same tattoo I’ve seen on all three of them in the weeks since.

I accept Luka’s gift. “What is this?”

“The sign of the Hell’s Bears,” he says. “All clan members get this tattoo eventually, but first, you get your patch. Jack entrusted me with the responsibility of awarding it to you when I felt you’d earned it.”

“And you think I have?”

“Like I said,” he says, “that ride impressed me. The others might not say so—Jack’s far too stoic, and Ryan doesn’t like to admit he’s impressed by anyone—but they feel the same way. You didn’t complain or ask for rest stops. You kept up with us. You rode with us.” He reaches out and closes my hand around the patch. “You’re one of us, Cami.”

It’s almost enough to push all thoughts of the robbery out of my mind completely. I’m one of them.

That evening, after we’ve unpacked, after the men have hunted and we’ve eaten fresh meat for the first time in days, I sit by the fire in the middle of our new den and carefully sew the patch to the breast of my leather jacket. I still have my doubts about the Hell’s Bears. I still don’t feel completely comfortable or confident around them. And I still have my worries about the future. But looking at this badge, I feel an overwhelming sense of pride.

I did it, Berto, I think, wishing I could really tell him, wishing he could hear. I found my new clan.

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