Chapter 6

Trix

Iwake up cuddled up to the best thing that's come into my life in a long time. Everything in my world is so stressful right now. What with my grandfather thinking he's some kind of criminal mastermind, him wanting to marry me off to another club president's son, and the brothers in his club always getting into some kind of trouble, I'm mentally and physically exhausted from trying to keep two steps ahead of everything.

Last night was amazing and magical. There are no two ways about it, being with Vapor I had been able to set aside all my worries for one night. He is the kind of compassionate and caring partner that goes a long way toward filling my empty cup back up. I had needed that so much more than I realized. His kindness is enough to make me want to hang onto whatever it is we have, for as long as humanly possible. I know my grandfather would probably put a bullet in his head rather than let me have a relationship with him. That makes me sad, but I promised myself last night that I'm going to hang in there and enjoy this while it lasts. We can eventually part ways and my family will be none the wiser.

I reach up to stretch my arms, but when I try to roll over, I almost fall onto my face. If it hadn't been for Vapor's strong arms holding me in place, I would have face-planted on the deck. I'd totally forgotten I'd gone to sleep in a hammock.

"Morning, darlin'. Did you sleep well?"

This is the moment reality comes crashing back down around me. I suddenly remember my brother is coming for an early morning breakfast. If I'm not there to meet him like we planned, he's going to panic and have every member of the Hellfire Hounds out looking for me.

Shit, I've got to get home. I scramble out of the hammock, fall onto the platform and began groping around for my clothing. As I jerk my pants, shirt, and shoes on, one after another, Vapor sits up and runs his fingers through his long, dark hair.

"Are you okay? You look a bit frazzled."

"Sorry Vapor. I had a wonderful evening with you. I truly did, but right now I have to get home. I have someone coming for breakfast."

Vapor's tone changes dramatically. "Will that someone be the man you normally have mornings activities with, the one who showed up bright and early to interfere with our morning the last time we were together?"

I stumble over and give him a quick kiss on the lips. "No, knucklehead. It's nothing like that. I volunteered to cook breakfast for a family member. And if I don't get my ass moving, I'm going to have to deal with their hangry company while I try to cook for them."

He comes to his feet stark naked and pulls me close before running his fingers over the shell of my ear and down to my chin before tilting my head back to look into my eyes. "I want you to know that I'm really starting to like you. I can tell because I'm acting like a jealous, possessive asshole."

I pull back slightly, "We can't be serious, Vapor. I thought you understood that."

"That's fine," he says stubbornly. "We can just see each other non-seriously if that's what you want. As long as I get to spend time with you, I don't care what we call it."

"Sounds good. Gotta go."

I race down the spiral staircase, climb into my vehicle and hightail it home. Normally, I would be anxious about someone finding out I didn't come home last night, but this morning, all I can think about is Vapor and the way he made me feel safe and warm enough to fall asleep in his arms. It's nice to have a totally normal, drama free evening at his special spot. I really like Vapor and I wish this thing between us had legs. Unfortunately, it doesn't, because I'm destined for an arranged marriage, or maybe a life on the run. I haven't quite decided about that just yet.

***

By the time Tracker arrives, I've showered, had my first cup of coffee and am knee deep in breakfast prep. Like always, he lets himself in, and much to my delight he's brought our younger brother, Hark. I give them both a quick smile. The three of us rarely get an opportunity to spend time together without our grandfather or the other Hellfire Hounds club members hovering over us. I don't know exactly why, but my grandfather does not approve of the three of us hanging out together. It's just another of the thousand and one quirky things that make no sense in our life.

Hark comes over to the stove, where I'm pulling bacon out of a pan and states excitedly. "I could smell this from the front porch. It's been forever since we had bacon at the clubhouse."

We both know that my grandfather hates the smell of bacon, so he won't allow it to be cooked anywhere in his general vicinity I pick up a piece and hand it to Hark. "We'll call this your starter piece."

He gingerly takes it from my hands, clearly trying not to get burned. Meanwhile, Tracker is making a cup of coffee for himself.

When we're all settled down at the table, it feels almost homely. I'd say almost like when things were normal, but honestly, I don't ever remember things being normal in my childhood. All my childhood memories are a bit of a blur. I remember me and my mom, and I vaguely remember Tracker being with us until my dad took him. But the period when Hark was born was a blank. I guess it's because it was not long after that, that mom died of an overdose. For some reason I got sent to our maternal grandparents and my brothers stayed with my dad's folks. I ended up joining them when I was fourteen after my Grandpa Cooper died.

I'd asked my brothers about all this, Hark remembered even less than I did, and Tracker got pissed whenever I spoke of our childhood. I guess, like me, he still carried the trauma. So as far as we were all concerned, the past was the past.

I glance over at the empty chair wondering what it would be like if Vapor was sitting in it. How my brothers would react. Would they be happy for me or would they be at each other's throats. I like to think that if they gave him a chance, Vapor might grow on them like he has me, I know we've only known one another for a short while, but already I feel close to him. Maybe one day my brothers will have girlfriends or wives of their own sat around the table as well. I don't know why, but the image of small children running around pops in my head. I like everything about that idea. We had a fucked up childhood, but maybe we can all make our own happy families when we have kids, to erase all the past trauma.

Hark, ever the observant sibling, asks, "How is it we all ended up having breakfast together? That's never happened before."

"This is just us having family time," Tracker responds quietly.

"Without Gramps?" Hark says with one raised eyebrow.

I stop in mid bite with my fork in the air. "Is bringing Hark your way of getting out of having the talk you promised me?"

"No way. I thought it would be a good idea for Hark to hear what happened. You know, kind of use it as a learning experience."

"That's a good idea," I say, because it is. I am relieved he's not trying to worm out of it. "Come on then. Out with it. Why are you working at the Savage Legion's bar?"

"Well, not to put too fine a point on it, I fucked up and now I'm paying the price."

Hark and I remain silent, giving Tracker time to get his story out."

"End of last year I did a very stupid thing. Squirrely and me allowed Scrapper to talk us into breaking into the Savage Legion's bar after hours. He said that if we could vandalize it enough so they would have to shut down, it might cost them enough money that their business folded. Less income from the bar means less money for the Savage Legion to buy guns and bullets to fight us with."

Hark snorts a laugh. "The Savage Legion doesn't attack the Hellfire Hounds anyway, they're a bunch of pussies."

"I didn't say they did," Tracker replies grimly. "King is hell bent on starting a gang war with the Legion. Obviously, his strategy was to starve them of weapons and resources while ensuring that we have more than enough to get the job done."

When neither of us respond, he continues. "The thing is, when you put the stupidest person in the driver's seat everything always goes wrong. Squirrely got jumpy right off the bat and accidentally broke their bartender's arm, and Scrapper ran off leaving me holding the bag. The bartender is a real nice lady, and I hate that she got injured."

Hark and I are just staring at him. Our younger brother seems a lot less shocked by what Tracker is saying than I am, and I wonder if he already knew part of the story.

"Long story short," Tracker adds hastily. "There was property and people damaged and they caught us red-handed. They gave me a choice. I could either work in their bar and pay off the damages as well as their bartender's medical bill, or they were gonna call the police and have me arrested. Since I didn't want to wind up in jail, I took them up on their generous offer of letting me work off the debt."

I spat out, "How long do they expect you to work there for free? That's what I wanna know. It's been, what? Six months?"

Tracker shovels a spoonful of eggs into his mouth, chews and swallows before answering me. "I paid off my debt a month ago."

My mouth falls open in shock. "Say what? Why would you still be there if the debt is paid off?"

A short silence spins out between the three of us. I break it by asking, "Does our grandfather know that you're there, volunteering your time every night?"

Hark is the one who speaks up. "Of course not. Nobody knows this little secret. Not one single soul in the whole world."

Tracker nods. "Hark's right. Life is difficult when your club president and your grandfather are the same person. The thing that's keeping me there is I got close to the bartender we injured. Her name is Mel, and she gets me."

I stammer, "Are you trying to tell us that you're getting married?"

Tracker snorts a laugh, "Not hardly. We barely know each other but I'm not giving her up."

We've all stopped eating the marvelous breakfast I made and are just staring at each other.

Finally Hark speaks up again. "Your club president isn't going to like that. If she comes to the club to be with you, and she's still working at the Legion's bar he'll see her as a spy."

"She's not just a bartender, she's also the head girl at their clubhouse," Tracker says.

"Shit!" Hark exclaims.

My head jerks around to look at my younger brother, who is just putting together the pieces of puzzle much quicker than I am. "If you're not careful Gramps will give her a dirt nap." Hark adds.

"That's why I've decided to turn over my cut. Not immediately, but within the upcoming weeks, when I figure out how to do it and stay alive."

I screech, "You cannot do that. You're supposed to be the next club president. King won't let you leave." I rise to my feet and begin pacing in front of the table. "This is a ridiculously stupid decision."

Tracker stands up and walks over to me, putting his hands on my shoulders. "Look, sis. I'm tired of running drugs and guns. I can't tolerate the trafficking. Just because we were raised in it, doesn't mean it has to be the rest of our lives. If I stay in the Hounds, I'm going to lose it on someone."

"What about King? He's going to lose his ever-lovin' mind." It's funny, despite King being my grandfather I could never bring myself to call him Gramps like my brothers. Maybe it's because he only came into my life when I was fourteen. To me he was a stranger.

"He might. I can't think about that right now. I mainly wanted to tell you that even though I'm quitting the club, I'll never quit the two of you. You're my family and family is forever."

Glancing at Hark, I force myself to lighten up. Tracker and I know this conversation is not over by a long shot. However, I force the anxiety out of my voice and say, "I can't wait to meet this Mel. She must be pretty amazing for you to throw away your cut to be with her."

The second the words come flying out of my mouth, I know that I've made a terrible mistake. "I didn't mean that the way it came out. I swear."

"The club's not all it's cracked up to be, Trix. I've been around a lot of other clubs and none of them are quite as dysfunctional as ours."

Hark intones, "A brotherhood is only as good as its weakest link, right Tracker?"

"Yeah, that's absolutely true. In our case, the weak link is Gramps. He's gotten meaner as he's gotten older. I was never wild about all the crime. It's the high-risk kind that can land us all in prison for a very long time. Like I said before, I might have been raised in it but that doesn't mean I have to choose it as an adult."

"No damn wonder you wanted us all to have breakfast together this morning. This is the equivalent of dropping a nuclear bomb right in the middle of an already chaotic situation," I say.

"Thankfully, you can claim to know nothing about it and move forward with your life," Tracker responds, as he takes another mouthful of breakfast. My appetite has gone.

Now, this is the point where it would probably be prudent to interject that I've also been seeing someone not associated with Hellfire Hounds. But I don't, because Tracker has finally found someone worth fighting for, and I don't want him to feel like he has to worry about protecting me from our grandfather's wrath when he's got his own skin to worry about.

So, I resign myself to supporting him. "Look Tracker, whatever you need I'm here for you."

Hark stands and walks over to stand shoulder to shoulder with us. "From this moment forward, we have each other's back no matter the situation."

I reach out and pull them both closer for a group hug, knowing that our lives just got exponentially more dangerous. The realization sets in that I no longer have the time or energy to waste on a relationship with Vapor, because I need to throw everything I've got into helping Tracker break free of the Hounds. Suddenly, I see him happy and carefree, doing his own thing with a woman who sees him as a good man, rather than an outlaw biker, and I want that for him more than I've ever wanted anything in my life.