Page 109 of Bad Luck, Hard Love
“With her,” Raze says. Not a question.
“With her,” I confirm. “Somewhere quiet. Somewhere she can heal without looking over her shoulder. Somewhere we can build something that isn't marked with so much blood.”
Hero pushes off the table, his massive frame blocking the light overhead as he steps closer. “Think about what you're walking away from, brother. Vegas could be rebuilt in your image. Clean. Profitable. The kind of charter that makes a difference.”
“I know exactly what I'm walking away from, and I know what I'm walking toward.”
“At least sleep on it,” Hero persists. “This opportunity won't come around again. Charlotte might even want this—the security, the power. After everything she's been through, having an entire chapter at her back might be exactly what she needs.”
I shake my head, the decision already made. “My answer will be the same tomorrow as it is today.”
Raze watches our exchange before leaning forward, elbows on the table. “So, what then? You turning in your cut? Walking away completely?”
The question hits harder than I expected. My cut has been a second skin for so long that the thought of surrendering it sends a physical ache through my chest.
“No,” I say firmly. “I'd like to go nomad.”
Surprise flickers across Raze's weathered face. “Nomad? That's a hard road, Thor.”
“It's the right one.” I straighten my shoulders, conviction burning through any doubt. “There may come a day when Charlotte is ready and I can come fully back, but until that day happens, nomad makes the most sense.”
Raze stares at me for a long beat. Finally, he nods once.
“Nomad it is, then. You'll keep your patch, but no home charter. Free to move as needed.” He extends his hand across thetable. “The club will always have your back, brother. Wherever you land.”
I grip his hand firmly, the tension in my chest easing. “Thank you, Prez.”
“Don't thank me yet,” Raze warns. “Paperwork's a bitch. And you'll need to check in regularly. This isn't retirement—it's redeployment.”
“Understood.”
Hero claps a heavy hand on my shoulder. “For what it's worth, I think you're making the right call. Women like that doesn't come along twice in a lifetime.”
“I know.”
“I owe you both more than I can ever repay. What you did for Charlotte, for me...coming in guns blazing when you had every reason to write us off—that's brotherhood in its purest form.”
Raze waves off my gratitude with a gruff noise. “Family takes care of family. Nothing more to it.”
“Still,” I insist, “you saved her life. Saved mine too. That's a debt I'll carry proudly.”
Hero's massive hand squeezes my shoulder. “Just be happy, brother. That's payment enough.”
A lump forms in my throat as I glance toward the door, thinking of Charlotte waiting beyond it. “I'll miss the day-to-day. The bullshit runs, the all-night parties, even the prospect hazing.” I manage a smile despite the heaviness in my chest. “Upland and the Heaven's Rejects will always be my family, no matter where we land.”
“And we'll always have a place for you. Both of you. Whenever you're ready,” Raze offers with a rare smile. “Visit when you can, huh?”
“I still need to clear out my shit from the clubhouse. And figure out what to do with my truck since my bike's currentlya pile of twisted metal in some Vegas junkyard. You guys don't have to start missing me just yet.”
Raze chuckles, shaking his head. “That truck of yours is probably the ugliest thing on four wheels I've ever seen. It would be doing you a favor if we torch it.”
“Hey, that '87 Ford has gotten me through some serious shit.” I defend my rust-bucket with mock indignation. “Besides, it's all I've got until insurance pays out for the Harley.”
“Club is already handling that,” Hero interjects. “New bike is being built as we speak. Consider it a going-away present.”
The generosity catches me off guard. “You serious?”
“Dead serious. Custom Road King. Black with silver detailing. Should be ready in about three weeks.”
