Page 41 of Seasons of Love
AIDEN
Slade tensed up, but then he gave me a kiss and led me to the couch in the middle of the shop.
He rarely had any customers later in the afternoon after Liam went home, but I suspected that he just enjoyed being here, catching up with paperwork with few interruptions.
"Okay, what do you want to know?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I want to know so much that I don't even know where to start. How did you get into your club? How old were you?"
"Joining an MC, that's a motorcycle club, isn't easy. You need money and connections. Remember I mentioned my neighbor that taught me how to ride?"
"Yeah."
"I basically hung around his place any time I wasn't at school since I was fourteen. He taught me everything I needed to know about bikes and helped me find a part time job at a garage. My foster parents were so happy that I was able to help them out a little that they didn't ask any questions."
Slade was staring ahead at the bikes on display in front of us while I watched him tell his story. What he was saying sounded so wholesome and good. The story of the foster kid who learned a trade and helped out his foster parents, who were actually good people. But the way he spoke, the pain in his voice was clear.
I had a strong feeling that a lot of the small decisions Slade had made because of his passion for bikes had led him down a path he later regretted. Maybe he wouldn't tell me everything, but I had to remember that he was here with me now, and he was safe.
"When I turned sixteen, I was so excited that I could finally get my license. When I got home from school, I went over to his place and just walked in, as I always did. There were a few guys there all wearing leather jackets with patches. I'd never been so impressed in my life. Even though I had no clue who they were, I wanted to be like them. Eventually my neighbor told me about the motorcycle club. He was their Road Captain. I can give you a breakdown of the ranks, but it means he had an important role, and as such, people usually listened to him. "
"So you tried to join?"
"Yeah, but I was too young. You have to be an adult to join, and you also need money and connections. I had the connections part down because of my neighbor, but I didn't have the money."
Slade went on to explain how he worked over the next two years to save as much money as he could so he could join the club.
"Before you're a fully-fledged member of an MC, there are three stages you have to pass: hang around, prospect, and probation."
"Let me guess, you were already hanging around, so you went straight to the second stage," I joked.
Slade laughed. "Yeah, you're right. The clubhouse was outside of town, but for some reason they liked hanging around my neighborhood. When I turned eighteen, I already had enough money saved to join. I was sponsored by my neighbor and became a prospect."
I didn't miss that with all the information he'd shared so far, Slade hadn't actually said where he came from or the name of his neighbor. My curiosity spiked, but he was giving me the information that would help my story. The details were irrelevant.
"I guess after you became a prospect, everything changed for you."
"Yeah."
Slade went quiet, so I accepted that was as much as I'd get from him.
"Is this hard for you to talk about?" I asked.
"Not as much as I thought. It's mostly bringing back memories… I haven't talked about this in a very long time."
"I understand."
He smiled. "You know how tough everyone thinks bikers are?"
I nodded.
"The president was a neat freak. I mean, all bikers are a bit like that, but mostly with their bikes. This guy wanted everything around him in its place. So, more often than not, I found myself cleaning up after the guys and cleaning the clubhouse. I took such pride in it."
"Do you think that gave you something you didn't get at home?"
Slade looked at me with the same expression he had that first night at Benny's Diner.
"Yes. I didn't know it at the time. I thought I was being a rebel. When I finished high school, I started working full-time at the garage. I'd aged out of the system, so I should have been kicked out of my foster parents’ home, but my mom got sick and they couldn't foster anymore. I stayed with them another year to help out around the house before I left."
