20. Vex

20

VEX

G etting into the truck makes me edgy.

I wish I could ride my bike, but it's that rare time of year when there is so much snow kicking around that not even the most committed biker would be tempted to ride.

Niro, Bates, and Cat are in the truck in front of us.

Switch is sitting next to me in mine. Sophia had other business with Alessio and stayed on, with the commitment that Alessio would make sure she got back to Asbury Park safely.

Which is why my best friend is biting down the side of his nail as he stares mindlessly out of the window.

And as I watch the road unfurl ahead of us, I understand his vibe.

I didn't like the way Calista slipped out this morning.

Kinda cheapened what happened between us. And it was also fucking unsafe.

I went back and watched the camera footage from Mom's and saw her walk up her driveway, hands wrapped around herself. And I'm guessing it's because I drove her to my house, so she didn't have a hat, mitts, or a scarf to keep her warm.

"You headed to the clubhouse?" Switch asks.

"I can drop you there, but I'm not going in."

"Why not?"

I glance over at my friend and decide I'm going to trust my gut and tell him everything, like I always used to. "Calista told me some shit about the club, tied to why I ended up joining. It's making me rethink some stuff."

"Shit. Tell me."

Switch shifts so he's facing me, and even though I have to keep my eyes on the road, I know my friend is listening. So, I tell him everything, including how Calista stayed last night and that I had the best fucking sex of my life before she left without a word.

The only part I leave out is that I'm worried Calista hacked Switch's brother-in-law.

"That's a lot of information to process," Switch says. "I mean, if Calista wasn't who she is to you, the club would likely do the same thing again, minus the whole assault part, if a vote was put forward about her hacking us. Club values haven't changed. You fuck with one of us, you fuck with all of us. Fuck with the club, you meet the maker."

"I know you're right. But in all honesty, Calista hadn't done anything wrong…yet. I know that feels like semantics, but she hadn't. So, in context, the penalty she paid was too high. They could have given her a warning. And I know I was fucking naive, but I didn't grow up around the club like you, Clutch, Halo, and King did. I thought it would be enough that I'd shored up the club. Didn't realize they'd strong-arm me into staying for a year or that, in hindsight, they never would have let me go if I had decided I didn't want to stay."

Switch blows out a breath. "I think you need to figure out what you need."

I honk at a driver who thinks it's okay to pull out in front of me at half my speed. "What do you mean?"

"Okay. All this happened. Sucks, I know. Bet Calista was fucking terrified. But it was the club being the club. So, what do you need? An apology from someone? Retribution against two dead men? You want to leave because you hate that you got screwed over with the agreement? Set aside how unfair it all feels. Set aside that it meant Calista disappeared. You say you don't want to go into the club right now. What would make you feel like the clubhouse is yours again? What would make you feel like the world was straight again?"

That anger starts to build in my stomach again. "Stop being so fucking pragmatic."

Switch shrugs. "What do you want me to say, man? As your friend, it sucks that the club used you and terrified Calista. But as a brother, it's a vote I'd make if we were asked to this afternoon. It sucks because it's not some random wise ass trying to fleece us that none of us know. It's you and it's Calista. Which…can we talk about you and Calista for a hot minute?"

"No."

Switch chuckles. "No. Really. You forgot you just told me you railed her all the way to heaven's gates and back?"

"Fuck you," I grumble.

"You guys just unfinished business or the start of something?"

I think about the question. "Fuck knows. We're business that never got started. Probably shouldn't get started. And if we do get started, it will probably end damn fucking quick because I live here, and she lives on the other side of the country."

"So, you've decided it's a closed book before it even gets going."

I shake my head as I see the exit for Asbury Park. "I don't know what the fuck it is."

"Can I say something without you getting mad?"

I glance his way. "What if I said no?"

"Then I'd probably still say it, because that's what friends do."

"Funny. Go ahead."

"You're the most strategic guy I know. You think about something, and when you set your mind to it, you go get it done. The club is wealthier than it's ever been because you hacked all that cash from the Righteous Brotherhood and then invested the shit out of it in such a way that we're making cash faster than we can spend it."

I think about the white supremacist group. Their leader's relationship to Halo. And how I stole eleven million dollars from them before we took them down.

"And your point is?" I say.

"You're talking about all this like it's out of your control. When it comes to Calista, what do you want? You feeling her and decide you want to be together while you figure it out, you tell her and go after her and make her want to stay. Let her decide if she wants to give up what she has out west for you. It's not for you to make her mind up for her, but you need to tell her what you want so the game can still be in play. If you want Calista in your life, you're gonna need to figure out whether she's an old lady or a civilian wife. If you want her in the club, you gotta figure out why you don't feel like you want to go in there, right now. Either way, you gotta pull your shoulders back and go tell King exactly what you just told me. That you consider her your old lady, and as such, she's out of bounds for any future action."

"He's not gonna buy that," I say.

"No? He didn't buy me having a Cosa Nostra princess for an old lady either, but you know King. He bites first, then thinks about shit and gets his head around it. Look, Calista paid for what she was trying to do. And she hasn't done anything else since. You want me to come talk to him with you?"

"Nah. I can handle King's bite. Should probably just get it over with. Can you find out if he's in the clubhouse?"

Switch types something into his phone. "Yeah. He's there for another hour."

Which is how I find myself pulling into the clubhouse instead of dropping Switch off as I intended.

"I'm gonna hang around the bar instead of heading to my room. I see shit getting heavy, I'm coming in," Switch says.

"Thanks, brother," I say as I follow him inside.

"No worries. And bring Calista over for dinner one night. I want to spend more time with this woman who has you tied up in knots and had the balls to try and hack the Outlaws."

"Fuck you, and fine. If I can find her and persuade her after she fucking snuck out on me this morning, I will."

When I get to church, King is sitting behind his desk, his hair standing up at all angles, which tells me he's going through the monthly accounts. "You got a minute, Prez?" I ask.

"Depends. Have you worked off that fucking attitude you had this morning?"

I don't answer the question but pull out my chair at the table we use for church. "You don't know the full story of how I came to join the club, but it's time you did. The only people who know what happened are me, your dad, and Cue Ball. I think it's time you knew what really happened to me, what happened to my best friend, Calista, and how it fucked up both our lives."

King's face changes as I say the last sentence. "I'm listening."

Like with Switch, I lay out the whole story. I leave the part out about the sex I had with Calista last night and my worries about the Cosa Nostra. But I tell him everything else. How his father, thanks to Cue Ball's intervention, gave me no choice but to stay. How they terrified Calista and her mom. And how, in hindsight, I know it was the best decision for the club, but that it ruined my friendship, changed the course of my life forever, and would never have been my choice.

"So, you never chose to become an Outlaw?" King asks.

I shake my head. "I thought the job was a one-and-done. Dude, I'm a fucking Black man. Was the only Black man in a club full of white bikers, who have a long track record of being racist dicks. You think I ever felt safe for a millisecond during that first year? The guy who skipped the whole prospecting process. The guy who didn't have to pull off a big gig to prove I had the balls for it, and so you all had something over me."

King rubs his hand over his jaw.

I share how I've got insomnia. How I barely ever rest. How shit is catching up with me. How Calista is back in town, and I want the chance to put that part of my life back together, even if that means putting her on a plane back to California.

And the whole while, King listens.

When I'm done, he doesn't say a word for five minutes.

"I don't know what my dad or Cue Ball were thinking about back then. I guess the call isn't too different to the one I'd make now, without the assault of a woman. I'd like to think we'd do more of a warning, given she hadn't actually hacked us."

I huff. "Switch said the same thing."

King glances out toward the clubhouse where Switch is leaning back against the bar, watching. "He's a wise man who has clearly got your back."

"Yeah. Sometimes he speaks sense." I raise my middle finger at my friend. He grins and lifts his middle finger in salute.

"Why are you telling me all this?" King asks.

"Because you deserve to know why I was pissed this morning. I feel like the club let me down. I have no idea whether what Cue Ball did was sanctioned by your dad or not, but Camelot meant a lot to me as a mentor. I'm pissed, and there's no one alive to get the facts from or be mad at."

King grabs a box of cigarettes from his drawer and offers the pack to me.

I take one and light it, and then King does the same.

"Thought you quit," I say.

"Meh. For the most part, I have. One or two a month for the stress. Plus, I kinda like triggering my sticker chart every now and again."

I bark out a laugh at that. Rae made King a sticker chart to stop smoking. If he quit for a certain number of days, he'd get certain sexual rewards that got progressively more perverted. "I don't need to know about that."

"You need some time off?" King asks.

I shake my head. "Think I just need space to process. If I say I can't do shit, I can't do shit. Think I need to lay off working late for everyone at the drop of a hat. Try to get my sleep problems in line."

King nods. "Understood."

"I will get on that information you needed about Saint and the strip club." I stand up to leave. "Thanks, Prez."

And now, there is only one person I need to set straight.

Assuming I can find her.