Page 11 of Finish Line
A lot has changed in the ten years he’s been gone. He knows about most of it, but I haven’t had the heart to tell him about Thor and Trigger, nor have I let anyone else. Those two were uncles to my kids when they were growing up. Findin’ out about their deaths is goin’ to tear Shadow up.
“They’ll be excited to see you too, son,” I tell him. We make plans for how he’s gonna get home and say our goodbyes.
I climb on my bike, turn the ignition, and listen to her roar to life. Carefully, I navigate out of the gravel parking lot. As soon as my back tire hits the pavement, I gun it.
As I ride, it hits me that I’ll be turnin’ fifty in eight months. Some days, I’m surprised I’ve made it this long. The club life is startin’ to take its toll on me. Not to say I don’t love this life, because I do. There’s no doubt in my mind that without this club, without my brothers, I wouldn’t have been able to get through losing Cami. I don’t know how I would have raised four kids on my own. This club is and always will be my family.
I think maybe, just maybe, it might be comin’ time for me to step down as President. There’re only a few of us old fucks still left, and we’ve paved the way for these kids to take over. As far as who I’d pass the gavel down to, that’s somethin’ that’s been heavy on my mind for a long time.
My oldest son has been in jail for damn near a third of his life. He wouldn’t be able to handle takin’ the gavel. It would have gone to Jager, my second oldest son, but he and my youngest son, Hawk, have both passed away due to club-related shit.
That leaves Minx. She knows the life. Hell, she would probably be a better Prez than half the fuckers in the club. They all respect the hell outta her and still would with her in that position, but no enemy or supplier would.
There’s only one other person I could imagine passin’ the gavel to. I’ve considered him a son for the past five years. He’s proven to be one hell of a brother time and time again. Not only does he love this club, but he loves my daughter.
I wasn’t too happy when Raze pursued Minx. I didn’t want her endin’ up with a biker. With, well, someone like me. But that’s exactly what she did. I wouldn’t have been able to stop her even if I tried. Raze ended up bein’ the best thing to ever happen to Minx and vice versa. With Minx by his side, Raze would make one hell of a club president.
Maybe it’s time to talk with Ranger about this. I know we need to handle shit with the cartel before I decide to step down or not. Those pieces of shits will get what’s comin’ to them by my hand, one way or another.
Chapter Nine
Athena
The bar closed at ten, but like always, I stayed to help clean and close up. The last time I looked at the clock, it was eleven fifteen. Luckily, my apartment is a short, ten-minute drive from the bar.
I’ve thought about Bull all day, even while busy at work. I feel an odd pull toward him. Something I’ve never felt with anyone. I typed out a text to him multiple times today, only to delete each one. I’m sure he’s busy being a motorcycle club president and all.
I pull into the apartment parking lot, wondering when the next time I’ll be able to see Bull will be.
Being next to him earlier made me feel so tiny. He has to be at least a foot taller than me. I mean, I’m only five-foot-one, so it isn’t difficult for people to be taller than me, but hetowersover me. Not to mention, he’s so damn muscular.
I climb out of my car and lock it, then walk up the stairs to my apartment on the third floor.
I had to keep fighting back the urge to run my fingers through his beard. Maybe next time I’ll ask him if I can touch it. It has some white hairs peppered throughout it, as well as the hair on top of his head. I can’t help but wonder just how old he is. I should have studied his license some more.
I go through the motions of unlocking my front door. I walk in and kick the door closed behind me, then freeze. My door wasn’t locked.
I quickly scan my apartment, but don’t notice anything out of place. Turning, I lock the deadbolt and secure the chain lock before turning on the lights. Slowly walking into the living room, I smell them before I see them.
Blue roses. There’s a note next to the vase. I grab it and recognize the handwriting immediately. My heart drops to my stomach.
I hurry back to the front door, unlocking it as quickly as I can and fly out, barely even closing the door behind me. Rushing down the stairs to my car, I fumble the keys trying to unlock it. I finally get it unlocked, slide in, and lock it again before turning it on. Then drive like a bat out of hell. I don’t know where I’m going, but I can’t stay here.
It was only a matter of time before he found me. I’ve stayed here too long. I shouldn’t have taken the job at Rusty’s, but I was tired of running. Iamtired of running. But I won’t go back to that life, to him. Never again.
* * *
Kevin Burkley. We met when I was out for drinks with some friends. He was friends with one of my friends’ boyfriend. A well-established lawyer at one of the top law firms in the Chicago area. I was a nurse practitioner in the emergency room at Second City General Hospital. A very upscale hospital, one of the top ten best hospitals in the United States.
Everything happened so fast, I missed all the red flags that should have told me to run for the hills. We moved in together after only a month of dating. After about five months of us living together, he startedsuggestingoutfits I wear, things I should eat, activities I should do. My friends pointed out that he was trying to control me, but I just made excuses for him. It wasn’t until he started suggesting I not go out with my friends that I started getting suspicious of his intentions.
A few months later, the arguments started and it just got worse from there. Until the day he put his hands on me . . .
* * *
About an hour later, I’m pulling up to some compound-looking place. The gate looks brand new. Am I in the right place? I pull up to the gate and some guy with a vest, not nearly decorated like Bull’s, walks up to my car.Shit. Why did I come here? This was a bad idea.
The guy knocks on my window. I’m frozen in my seat, hands glued to the steering wheel, eyes locked on the gate in front of me.
