INDIGO

The holiday season is the best time of my life. Two weeks after Natasha’s baby shower, I help Siobhan decorate the house for the kids. The inflatable snowman lasts a week before Grumpy feels under attack by the massive smiling object. Sleepy quickly joins in the massacre while the kids stare in horror. Eventually, the dogs get tangled up in the material, and I’m forced to save them.

As Deirdre tears up over the lost snowman, Siobhan calmly explains to the children, “Dogs are stupid. You can’t judge them like you would a person. Like, if Uncle Zoot attacked the snowman, we’d need to kick his ass. But the dogs require our patience.”

The kids turn to the triumphant dogs now sitting on top of their vanquished foe. We all wait for Grumpy to go homicidal on the Santa inflatable, but he seems cool with Saint Nick. Meanwhile, Bubbles watches us from the window, wearing the “I told you so” look he gets whenever the dogs become rowdy.

The rest of the holiday season is relaxing. Vanilla and Chef visit their mom and dad before leaving the hills and spending winter break with us. Having a house filled with kids reminds me of when I lived on the farm as a boy.

A week before winter break, Bear and Natasha welcome their daughter Olívie. The baby’s bigger than any I’ve ever seen. Her head fits her size, and she’s really pretty. When I see her in Bear’s arms, I realize I was dumb to think people wouldn’t love Olívie like they do Jacinda and Hector. I’m now far less afraid of my baby falling short compared to the twins.

Christmas is just like I always dreamed. Siobhan and I wake up with the kids and open presents. After breakfast, we pack into the SUV and drive out to the farm. The twins hang out with Sync while the dogs run around the woods. Vanilla and Chef keep close to Siobhan and me. They’re still nervous about new situations, but they get charmed by Aunt Fred and Elvis just like all kids do.

As the new year arrives, Banta City prepares for the trial of Hunter’s stalker, Matt Parker. The rich nerd has done everything he can to push back the start date. I think he hopes the club and our allies will want the situation dealt with quietly if he drags out the publicity for long enough .

Matt Parker might know a lot about technology, but he doesn’t understand people. There is no way Suzanne Knutsen will allow him to get a sweetheart deal. A lot of powerful people want the man to suffer, and he’s only prolonging the inevitable.

Of course, the trial will put a huge spotlight on the club. I’m expected to testify. I don’t look forward to being on display, but good people died that day.

As the trial approaches, Tack and Hunter are basically in hiding. The stress seems to grow every day. Siobhan often expresses how worried she is over Hunter’s pregnancy.

“She isn’t gaining enough weight. I worry the stress will make her sick. I wish that fucking nerd would die, so Hunter can be free.”

My woman gets her wish when one of Parker’s still-living hired guns decides to take out the guy who brought heat down on him. The sniper’s shot blows off the asshole’s face as he walks into court. I must have watched the unedited video online a dozen times. The fucker looked so smug before his face exploded.

A few days after Parker dies, the club celebrates at Above Snakes Bar & Grill. The Hills Chapter shows up. The place is stuffed with bikers and wild girls taking advantage of our good mood.

The only guys in my usual crew to enjoy the club sluts’ interest are Sync and Golden. The rest of us play pool and drink too much.

“I wish I could have killed Parker,” Tack announces after making his pool shot. “But I couldn’t risk getting caught and leaving Hunter to raise Lotus alone.”

“With him dead,” Bear replies, “I hope life settles down in Banta City. I’m sick of drama.”

Tack and I share a grin at how Bear yawns. He notices us smiling at his fatigue and shrugs. “I like feeding Olívie at night. She’s started responding to our faces. I don’t want her to like the nanny the best.”

“No worries, man,” Pork Chop says, patting his back as he moves around the pool table. “When my kids were babies, they acted like the womenfolk were the only cool ones. Hudson would even cry when I held him. Made me feel like an asshole. But that’s just baby stuff. When they get older, oh, boy, that’s when I got to shine.”

The men chuckle while the rest of the club parties nearby. Noble makes the rounds, keeping an eye on everyone. Golden takes a virgin into a back bedroom. Sync charms a redhead. The place feels electric as the pressure eases off the club .

As much as I like being here, I’m anxious to get home to Siobhan. Earlier today, we had another sonogram. For the first time, the blob on the screen looked like a person. The technician also thought the baby was a boy.

“What do you think of the name Lorcan for my son?” I ask the guys when we start another pool game. “It’s a name Siobhan likes.”

“Is that Irish?” Pork Chop asks. “Like the twins’ names?”

“Yeah. Siobhan says it means fierce.” I explain, keeping to myself how the name is also meant to honor Lorrie. “Do you think kids will make fun of the name?”

“Fuck ‘em,” Pork Chop insists. “When Carys wanted the name Hicks for our first boy, I felt like you. My head instantly went to how kids would tease him. But Carys insisted asshole kids would make fun of someone even if they had the most normal name. It was better to teach our boy confidence than to teach him to fear standing out.”

Bear sidles up next to me and suggests, “If he doesn’t like his name, you can give him a nickname like Caveman did with those blond kids always at your place.”

“Siobhan changed their names. She calls the boy Glen and the girl Nora.”

“Isn’t the boy’s name already Glen?”

“Glenjamin.”

“Why?” Bear asks as if I named the kid. “What was the girl’s name?”

“Norleen,” I explain, imagining the kids sitting around the kitchen table this morning. The dogs rested nearby, watching birds through the glass door. “Nora is an Irish name, so she matches the twins.”

“Do the kids care about getting another set of names?”

“No. They’re crazy about Siobhan. She could call them Bert and Ernie, and they’d eat it up.”

Bear studies me. “I like your kid’s name.”

Nodding, I grin. “Any name I’d pick would be boring.”

Nearby, a bell rings signifying a virgin has lost her cherry.

Tack joins us as Pork Chop wins another game. “You get in your way. Siobhan can be too impulsive. I think the two of you will smooth out each other’s flaws.”

“What are we doing over here?” Golden asks as he leaves his latest deflowered woman and joins us.

“Talking about kids,” Bear says .

“Enough with the kids,” he mutters and rolls his eyes. “They’re just tiny adults. Not interesting.”

“What do you want to talk about?”

“How about the video of that asshole’s face flying off his skull?” Golden asks.

As we share a hearty laugh at the dead asshole’s expense, I again fight the urge to head out early. If I was at home, Siobhan and I could watch “Survivor.” She gets so riled up about the people she doesn’t like. I enjoy listening to her bitch more than I care about the show.

My thoughts wander as the men continue playing pool. The noise level drops around us as guys either end up in the back bedrooms to fuck or sleep off the booze. I count fewer Hills members visible in the crowd of bodies. Caveman would tell me goodbye if he had left, so I assume he’s getting rowdy in a bedroom.

Zoot appears from the back hallway and begins making the rounds. He ends up where we play pool. His gaze lingers on Tack and me. The day on the road when the mercenaries got close to stealing away Hunter, Tack and I used our bodies to keep her safe. Since then, Zoot’s been especially “concerned” about Tack and me. He shows it by frowning at us a little longer than he does other people.

“Who here is wasted?” Zoot asks as he looks over our group.

Golden raises his hand while the rest of us shake our heads.

“Look at all these responsible family men,” Zoot sneers at a smiling Noble strolling over. “They’re turning into duds.”

“When I joined this club,” Bear announces, “I did it with the understanding that I could punch people and play a lot of pool. No one said anything about being drunk all the time.”

“I’m not drunk all the time,” Golden mutters. “I’m barely drunk now.”

“Parker dying was a good thing,” Noble says while Zoot frowns extra hard at me. “But let’s not pretend our lives just got simple. We still have plenty of enemies.”

“With the press losing interest in Banta City,” Zoot mutters, “every fucking asshole with a grudge against us will crawl out of their hiding place to start trouble.”

“Or,” Tack says immediately, “they might see how we survived the attack on the Kovak Syndicate’s convoy. No way would all the Kovak family have gotten out of that alive without our help. ”

I glance at Bear who is definitely remembering the night he thought he lost Natasha forever.

“Then, when Parker sent those mercenaries,” Tack continues, “we kicked their asses. Didn’t lose a single person, either. Hell, we even played nice with the feds. They say Viktor Kovak is unkillable, but I figure the club looks damn indestructible right now, too.”

Zoot focuses his dark gaze on Tack and shakes his head as if the man is an idiot. “Never be optimistic about anything in life. You’re just setting yourself up for disaster.”

Pork Chop rolls his eyes and readies another game of pool. “You always say that, but Elvis is optimistic, and he has a good life.”

“And where is Elvis right now?”

“In the corner booth, weaving fantastical stories about his dick to the prospects,” Sync says as he joins us. “The thing can apparently part the Red Sea. It’s a damn marvel of science.”

“What happened to the redhead?” Bear asks.

“I blew her mind. Then, I explained how the place might get rowdy soon, so she best head home,” Sync explains and takes a pool stick. “I’m a gentleman that way.”

Golden looks at me to see if I’ll complain about how sex is sacred. When I don’t react in any way, Golden smiles.

“What’s happening here?” Zoot asks, pointing between Golden and me.

“I’m not hassling him about his sluttiness anymore,” I reply. “So, he no longer mentions my mom.”

“Why the fuck were you mentioning his mom?” Zoot barks at Golden.

“I don’t have good manners.”

Noble chuckles at Golden’s whiny voice before patting Zoot’s shoulder.

“We’re heading out.”

“Already?” Sync asks. “Seems early even for men your age.”

“Does Caveman know you’re tired already?” Golden adds, and I suspect he feels special when Zoot yells at him.

Noble pats his brother’s shoulder before Zoot can lash out. “We have a meeting in the morning. Our bellies are full, our dicks got wet, and our livers were doused with enough booze to bring us closer to death. It’s time to go.”

Zoot scans our group and asks, “Which one of you fucks wants to stay overnight to make sure everyone gets home in one piece? ”

“I can’t sleep here,” Bear says when Zoot eyes him. “I feed the baby at night.”

“That seems like a bullshit answer, but I’ll allow it just to avoid hearing more about your kid. Who else has to run home to his ball and chain?” Zoot asks before gesturing at Pork Chop and me. “I already know you two fucks need to get home to my nieces. I can see your leashes from here.”

“Hunter was feeling sick earlier,” Tack lies. “I can’t stay overnight when she might need to see a doctor.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Zoot sneers at Tack. “But just in case you aren’t, let’s move on.”

“Make Sync do it,” Golden insists. “He’s got no reason to leave. His girls are with their mom.”

“Good point. You can stay here with him.”

“Why?”

“Where were you going to go anyway, shit for brains?”

Golden shrugs. “Nowhere, but I don’t want to be in charge of peeling guys off the ground in the morning.”

“Life is difficult,” Zoot mutters before offering a nasty smirk. “And to make it worse, you can take a bunch of prospects with you tomorrow and ride around town to show off our numbers.”

Golden frowns at Sync who shrugs. I stay very still to avoid gaining anyone’s attention. Noble and Zoot leave us and stop at where Elvis still entertains the younger guys.

“It gets easier,” Bear tells me after the guys start playing pool. “I didn’t want to be away from Natasha at all when we first got together. I would get pissed when I had other stuff to do. That’s the stage you’re at right now. But it’ll get easier.”

Pulling out my phone, I look at my photos of Siobhan. I like the goofy pictures the best. Last weekend, when I was riding around town, she sent a photo of the four kids making funny faces. When I was out late a few weeks ago, I received a picture of the dogs trying to smell each other’s butts.

Right now, I flip through those photos and decide I’ll only stick around until closing time at two. I survive the next hour without showing my restlessness. Golden disappears with another woman. The guys and I switch from pool to cards.

My mind wanders to Siobhan curled up in bed. I picture myself wrapped around the back of her. My hand is on her belly. I just started feeling the baby a week ago. The twins ran to me to announce they felt their brother.

Resting my hand on her bare stomach, I felt the lightest tap. Siobhan smiled at me, and the twins hugged me on both sides. I don’t think I’d ever been happier than that moment.

So, as much as I love hanging out with my friends and the club, I need to get my ass home. Instead, just after midnight, I’m startled from my thoughts by activity at the front door.

“Everyone line up against the back wall!” yells a detective as a dozen uniformed cops enter the bar. “We’re here to serve a warrant! Keep your hands where we can see them!”

I shove my phone into my back pocket and glance at Bear. He signals for us to be compliant. We walk to the back wall and rest our hands on the wall. If these cops are looking for a reason to open fire, we won’t give them one.

Nearby, Elvis has his hands up high in the air as if he’s trying to reach the ceiling. He smiles at the cops and asks for the name on the warrant.

“We can let you know if he’s in the back rooms before he can run off.”

The two detectives glance in the direction of the clubhouse’s bedrooms and kitchen. I know instantly how the warrant is bogus, and they’re here to cause trouble. If they cared about catching someone, they’d move to that location quickly. Instead, they seem wary as if they underestimated our numbers.

“If anyone gets pinched,” Elvis says as he rests his hands on the wall next to us, “call the lawyers and let them weave their magic. No worries. Don’t give the cops any reason to fear for their safety.”

The uniformed officers start patting us down while the detectives try to figure out their plan for the bedrooms.

“Where’s your president?” a uniformed cop yells at Tack standing next to me.

“Zoot left,” Tack answers calmly.

“And the other one?” the cop demands, shoving me against the wall.

“What other one?”

“His brother.”

“I’m his brother,” Elvis says, wanting to fuck with the cop who is likely going off a script.

“The other brother! ”

“He left,” Tack mutters when the cop shoves me against the wall again.

The pool table is soon filled with our IDs and weapons as the uniformed cops pat each of us down.

“If you want,” Elvis says when the detectives seem scared to clear the back bedrooms and start talking about bringing in SWAT, “I can get everyone out here for you. I can even help you find the person you’re looking for.”

The detectives seem out of sorts. However, the uniformed cops are dying to start shit. They’re the ones running the show, which makes sense. A few of them are members of the Brennan family.

Dirty cops are a dime a dozen in any big city, but the Brennan family took control of the Banta City police department. They have family members in important roles. Anyone who wants to be safe on the streets needs to bend a knee to Alec Brennan. He carries a badge while also running various criminal organizations on the side.

Last year, he tried to make a deal with the Backcountry Kings to dethrone the Kovak Syndicate. This idea always seemed nuts to me. A war in Banta City would cost each side a lot of money. The club responded to the offer by having Bear marry Natasha.

Since then, the cops have been slow to aid us when things went sour. If the local cops were in charge of finding Hunter’s stalker, Matt Parker would still be living it up in France. Having the feds roll in and take over was another kick in the balls for the Brennan family.

I assume tonight is their way to feel powerful. The problem is they miscounted how many members were still around. Despite all the yelling about Zoot, I sense they waited until our president and VP were gone before rolling in with their warrant bullshit.

“What is all this, boyo?” Caveman asks, strolling out of the back hall.

“Hands up!” the cops scream and point their guns.

“Be cool, Caveman,” Elvis warns. “These boys are on edge since they can’t find the guy from their warrant.”

“Let’s just be grownups here,” Caveman says, standing in only his Santa-themed boxers. “We all know there isn’t any warrant.”

A uniformed cop barks, “You need to stand with your hands against the wall.”

“So, you can pat me down for weapons?” Caveman asks and lifts his arms. “The only weapon I’m packing can’t be tossed on the pool table. ”

“With enough effort, I could take it off you,” the cop growls at Caveman.

“This won’t end the way you want. A year from now, you’re bound to wish you grabbed a beer with your bros rather than walking into this bar.”

“Are you threatening me?”

“I think you know I am.”

When the uniformed cop moves to hit Caveman, the detectives quickly act as buffers to prevent violence from breaking out. I glance at the man who saved Lorrie, Bubby, and me so long ago. Caveman absolutely wants to get his ass kicked. Any pain will give him permission to stomp down on the Brennan family.

That’s why the detectives don’t let the uniformed cops start something bigger than what was planned. Tonight was likely meant to be an annoyance. The cops want to prove they can walk into our territory and make us temporarily obey. If Zoot or Noble were here, the men would call in the lawyers. Shit would get real in a way the Brennan family doesn’t want. Unfortunately, they forgot about Elvis and Caveman.

Other members of the Hills Chapter exit the bedrooms. The mood in the bar changes. Bear exhales deeply like he’s wondering how bad shit is about to get.

Zoot is a beast, but he lives in the city and knows how this place works. Publicly fighting with the police is a no-no for even him.

Caveman and his men live in the backwoods, where no one is above reproach. Years ago, when I was a boy, the hills had a goofy sheriff and a single deputy. They weren’t in charge of anything, but they wore the uniforms and made people think the law mattered. One day, the men’s egos convinced them to push back against Caveman. The hills don’t do stealth. Caveman beat the shit out of both men in the middle of Main Street with an audience clapping along.

Right now, he wants to make another mess. Elvis smells blood in the air and proves he’s more than the goofball brother.

“Let’s remember how the O’Malleys, Brennans, and Callaghans go way back,” Elvis tells two uniformed cops with Brennan blood in their veins. “Our families used to run bootleg booze together. Caveman’s pappy and your granddad did the bank job in Tempe Falls together. ”

Elvis channels Aunt Fred’s calm tone. He mentions things Alec Brennan said to her and Noble back when the cops wanted to take down the Kovak Syndicate.

The cops might not care about Elvis’s tone, but his words remind them of the bigger picture. They start thinking about what happens if violence breaks out. Someone might get killed. No way did Alec Brennan authorize anyone ending up in the morgue.

As the cops back off, Caveman frowns at his brother-in-law’s successful efforts. Though I admire the man in a million ways, Caveman’s love of drama can be annoying at times. Right now, I just want to go home to Siobhan. I see myself curled around her body. I can already feel my son kicking my hand. None of that will happen if Caveman starts a brawl.

“The person we’re looking for isn’t here,” Tommy Brennan announces, having held back until this moment. “We’ll be back if the situation changes.”

The other cops file out of the clubhouse while Tommy just stares at us with those dead blue eyes all the Brennan men own. He flashes a dismissive look at Caveman before giving Elvis a little head nod. Then, Tommy follows the others outside.

Once the door closes, Elvis announces, “Tommy likes me!”

Caveman mutters, “Chump.”

“Nice boxers,” Elvis taunts.

“Your wife gave them to me last Christmas.”

“I know. I was with her when she bought them,” Elvis replies and smirks. “We laughed about it.”

Caveman doesn’t take the bait, instead turning around to show off the festive boxers. He even shakes his ass for our benefit.

“Let’s hope he doesn’t fall out of them,” Bear mutters. “I want to go home to Natasha without that image in my head.”

I snicker at his words, gaining the attention of Caveman. He sizes me up and then juts his jaw at the door.

“You should head home to take care of my niece and the boy cooking in her oven.”

Elvis nods. “Everyone who lives in the Willow Brook neighborhood should ride together. Let’s stick to riding in pairs for the time being especially at night. I don’t know what the pigs thought would happen tonight, but they seem disappointed by the lack of violence. Let’s assume they’ll aim for easy targets. ”

“You heard him,” Caveman says, walking to the bar and retrieving a bottle of whiskey. “Get home boys and snuggle with your ladies.”

“I don’t have a lady,” Sync says, frowning at Caveman who heads back to the bedrooms.

“Well, you can’t have the little lass I left in bed.”

Elvis notices how the other Hills Chapter members linger as if waiting for something. He gestures for them to return to the bedrooms before telling the rest of us to grab our weapons and IDs.

I slide my gun into my holster and check my phone. A picture of the twins is my wallpaper. Their little faces are pressed together. Their smiles remind me of the new family I’m building with Siobhan. That’s why I can’t help grinning whenever I turn on my phone.

“Look at my grandbabies,” Elvis says and leans in to take a selfie with me. “You best get home and check on Siobhan and the kids.”

When he texts the picture to his daughter, I wonder if she’s up. Siobhan’s been dragging more lately. Her bump is small and tight like she ate a kid-sized basketball. Though she dodged most pregnancy symptoms, fatigue started kicking her ass a few weeks ago.

After riding to Willow Brook, Sync and I split off from Tack and Bear. I expect him to keep going after we reach Siobhan’s house. Instead, he sits on his idling motorcycle at the curb, even after I park in the garage.

“What’s wrong?”

Sync looks around. “Those cops could make our lives risky.”

“Yeah, but then they’ll die. I think maybe they want to avoid that.”

Sync nods and looks at the house. “I feel uneasy.”

“Want to come inside and see your girls?” I offer when he stares at the quiet front door. “You can sleep over if you want, but the guest bedroom is taken. You’ll have to bunk on the couch.”

“Maybe I’ll stay over for a little bit,” he says and rides up the driveway. Climbing off his motorcycle, Sync studies me and sighs. “There are times when I get a bad feeling like I need to walk away from the dangerous shit and live a quiet life. I want to be able to watch my girls grow up. But I have no idea what I’d do if I wasn’t a Backcountry King, so I shove aside that bad feeling. Tonight, though, when those cops were itching for a fight, I saw myself dead and my babies forgetting me. ”

After a moment, I admit, “I don’t know why I didn’t get nervous tonight about the cops flipping out and killing me.”

“Staying sharp is better than worrying. I don’t know why I got rattled. Maybe I drank more than I realized and the buzz kept me wired.”

“Well, I’ve got no issue with you sleeping over, but if you’re wired, keep it quiet.”

Sync gives me a “duh” look before we enter through the garage and shut the doors behind us. The house is quiet and smells of the garlic chicken Siobhan and I made for dinner. We’ve been taking a cooking class together on the weeks when the girls are with Sync. I smile at the memory of the kids helping us in the kitchen last night. We felt like a real family living a normal life.

Leaving my boots at the front door, I walk soundlessly through the house. I let the dogs outside while Sync peeks in on the twins. He’s still watching them when I get back. I check on Glen and Nora in the guest room.

After a quick shower in the dark, I climb into bed. Siobhan wakes enough to offer me a kiss and say those magic words. Just like I’ve been dying to do for hours, I curl around the back of her and rest my hand on her belly.

Though the house is peaceful, Sync’s earlier worries have infected me. My mind zeroes in on how the cops shoved me around more than the other guys. Why was I singled out? Do they know I’m with Siobhan? Yeah, probably. Were they trying to piss off Elvis?

I consider leaving the bed and finding Sync. We can sit out back and worry together. Before I give up the warmth of Siobhan’s body, my son kicks my hand. I instantly smile at the idea of him moving around inside his mom.

My earlier fears drop away, and fatigue quickly tugs at me. My brain might want to obsess over tonight’s run-in with the cops, but my heart is happy right where I am.