Page 12 of Flint
I feel as though I’ve spent a lifetime following along behind him. He’s always brushed off anything that could be construed as flirting, which is disappointing but not entirely unexpected. I reluctantly follow him because I’m fascinated by everything to do with this overprotective bastard. I shouldn’t be, but I am.
Chapter 4
Flint
It’s been a few days since Jules came to stay. Tommy and I are at the clubhouse today for church. Our club is in fuckin’ crisis right now because my cousin Mica resigned to strike out on his own. Sure, the club he’s founding will be an ally with ours, but it was a shocking, devastating loss, nonetheless.
I’m standing with Tommy, near the front of the building. He’s anxious, like everyone else around the clubhouse today. He runs one hand down his face and asks, “Are you sure now is the right time?”
“Jasper’s put word out that we needed to swell our ranks. If he’s asking for men to patch in this is a good time to nominate you.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says nervously. He’s been jumpy all morning. He’s got his hands crammed into his front pockets and is staring intently at the gate.
“Look Tommy, I don’t know why you’re angsting about this. When I spoke about it with Jasper, he seemed keen. They took you off gate duty today. Prospects man the gate, not fully patched brothers. That should tell you something right there.”
Glancing up at me, he jerks his chin. “I already know all that. I just have a bad gut feeling. You know it’s never wrong.”
He’s not wrong about that. Tommy is the man who walked point through villages where half the doorways had wiresrunning out of them. He always knew when something wasn’t right.
“This time will be the exception,” I assure him. “You know we lost several members to Mica’s club. We need new members. You’ve been prospecting for a fucking year. You’re ambitious. You’ve showed up, proven your worth, and never once broken code. Trust me, this is your moment. You’re a shoo-in.”
The tightness in his shoulders relaxes, as he turns to face me, and a grin finally spreads over his face. “You’re right. I’ve been working my ass off for this club. I just can’t believe it’s finally happening.”
Tommy lowers himself onto the concrete steps of the front porch and stretches his legs out in front of him. Gazing at his boots for a second, he mutters, “Not being chained to that damn gate is gonna feel weird. Protecting this clubhouse was my one and only goal for an entire year. What with working at the shop full time, I practically spent every free hour here to get my hours in.”
“I get that. I felt the same way at one time. But once you’re wearing a patch, you have to put petty shit like that behind you. Part of the transition is figuring out how you fit as a patched brother.” I tease him.
“It’s alright for you, the officers are your cousins,” Tommy says.
I shake my head. “Family don’t get no favors. I had to prospect same as anyone else.”
“I’m glad you invited me to prospect for the Sons of Rage. This club has become a big fuckin’ part of my life.”
“After being discharged from the military, we both need to be part of something larger than ourselves. Having a brotherhood fills a hole that being in the military left behind.”
I pull out the lighter that saw me through the war and my time as a prospect. Flicking the lid open and closed is a small ritual, one I reserve for when I’m anxious and want to hide it. All his talk about having a bad gut feeling is making me feel some kind of way.
Tommy gets lost in his thoughts again. I know he’s worrying again. I take his mind off it by asking about his sister. “Did you talk to Jules before you left the house this morning?”
“Yeah, she was up before me. I found her sketching at the kitchen table while the coffee was brewin’.” He pauses and then lowers his voice. “Some of the shit she sketches freaks me out.”
I nod, already knowing where this is going with this disclosure
“Those scenes from the night that guy got shoved into the trunk are so vivid. The dude’s facial expression is terrified as hell. You can see the naked fear plain as day. She should be doing police sketches because she nails their fucking faces, all of them.”
I nod slowly, watching as dozens of brothers begin showing up for church. “Does she still talk about what happened that night?”
“No, she doesn’t. She just pretends everything is fine.” He rests his forearms on his thighs and stares at me.
“She’ll talk when she’s ready,” I assure him, even though I’m not sure I believe it myself. “She’s always kept her thoughtsto herself. Remember when your momma died? She kept all her grief to herself.”
“Yeah, mom died when Jules was home from school for a teacher workday. She kept saying I wouldn’t understand.”
“People are different. You can’t make her share shit with you if she doesn’t want to.”
“Yeah, stop tellin’ me what I already know.”
“If you ask me, you and your sister are just alike. You didn’t tell her what I did to you in the military.”
