Chapter 1: Pin
“ALRIGHT, BROTHERS, THAT’S IT FOR ME,” RYDER SAID.
I looked up from my bike to see Ryder standing up and
brushing off his dark jeans. He nodded at Moves and me as
he headed for the door. We had been working on our bikes
at the shop for the last hour or so like we did almost every
Friday afternoon.
“Aw, you’re really blowing us off for drinks again?”
Moves asked.
“Yeah, I’m sick of dragging your drunk ass home every
night,” Ryder snapped.
I smirked down at the ground. I loved it when Moves
and Ryder badgered each other. They never meant any
harm. It was all in good fun, just one of the things that made
us brothers, bonded by our devotion to our club, the Outlaw
Souls.
“Pin, I’ll see ya later,” Ryder said.
He clapped my shoulder as he headed out, his back
ramrod straight. Ryder was the type of guy who thought he
had to carry the whole world on his shoulders. It showed sometimes in the way he walked with purpose and a hint of
weariness.
Once the roar of his motorcycle had faded into the
distance, Moves glanced at me. “You’re coming to Blue Dog
Saloon, right?”
“Wouldn’t miss it,” I said.
Moves was the enforcer of our group. He had earned
that position through a dedication to street fighting that
was, frankly, terrifying. Nearly every day, I thanked my lucky
stars that he was on our side.
As enforcer, Moves always liked to be in the thick of
things, and he never missed a meet-up among club
members. It was Friday, so that meant drinks and music
down at the Blue Dog Saloon, our unofficial headquarters.
The bar was located on the dingy side of La Playa, far
away from the glistening sandy beaches and the boardwalk.
Blue Dog Saloon was scrappy but proud, just like the club
itself.
“Sweet,” Moves said. “Maybe this time you’ll actually get
a girl’s number.”
He grinned at me beneath his messy mop of sandy
brown hair.
I rolled my eyes. It wasn’t that I couldn’t get a woman, it was
just that I only liked having one for a few nights. I wasn’t into
all that soul-changing all-consuming type of love. Moves was,
but somehow he could never find it. He was always getting his
heart broken or breaking someone else’s heart and then
breaking some noses as well, just to round everything out.
“You don’t mean that,” I said. “You’d be screwed without
my wingman skills.”
As I stood up, Moves jokingly shoved me in the chest. I
dodged away with a laugh, but patted my chest to make sure my glasses were in one piece. Moves had already broken my
accounting glasses three times in the last six months and I
was sick of getting replacements.
I had been the treasurer for Outlaw Souls for over three
years. I kept my glasses on me at all times in case I needed to
crunch numbers at any point. We always had gigs, odd jobs,
and fundraisers, so keeping track of all the influx and
outflow was no joke.
I was happy to do it though; the club was everything to
me. I had been born and raised on the wrong side of La
Playa. Sick of my mom’s non-stop fighting with her
boyfriend, I had joined up as soon as I was eighteen. I was
never the guy to grab the center of attention, so I had always
wanted to be treasurer – not in the middle of things, but still
pulling strings behind-the-scenes.
I remembered when the older guys had suggested I get
an accounting degree at a local college, I’d been almost
offended. I thought they were trying to get rid of me or hint
that I wasn’t suited for a biker club. Instead, they explained
that they needed someone with certain skills and, since I
had done so well in high school math courses, I had
potential.
I had done well in math because it was a good distraction from whatever jerk my mom was seeing that month,
but I didn’t tell them that. Instead, I got into an accounting
program with the club paying for the whole thing. They
didn’t ask for a single penny back. That’s when I knew I
would do anything for the Outlaw Souls. It’s been almost
ten years since I first asked to join, and I feel the same way.
I grabbed my leather jacket with the patch and pulled it
on as Moves gathered up his stuff. He looked at his phone
and then up at me. “Kimmy just texted, she’s headed that
way as well.”
I rolled my eyes. Kimberly Delasante was a pledge who
hated – absolutely hated – being called “Kimmy.” So, of
course, Moves called her nothing else. Kim was a tough
girl though, and always gave as good as she got with
Moves.
Moves and I pushed our bikes out into the bright sun of
La Playa. It would start to set soon, so we had just enough
time to go for a quick ride and grab dinner before heading
to Blue Dog.
The auto shop we liked to work out of was on the corner
across from a rundown taco place and a loan’s office. The
taco place needed a serious paint job and had grimy
windows, but we all knew that they were the best tacos
outside LA. There was another, shinier version of La Playa,
but it wasn’t for me, never had been.
“Seriously, man, I worry about you,” Moves said as the
sun hit us.
It was pretty out of the blue, so I raised my brows.
“You got walls a mile high, brother,” Moves continued.
“Being single is fun for a while, but come on, you don’t
wanna be grabbing beers with your brothers every Friday
for the rest of your life, right?”
To be honest, I kinda did, but I wasn’t going to admit
that to Moves. Beneath his battle-hardened exterior, he was
a total romantic. He believed in soulmates and all that
bullshit.
I wasn’t going to be the one to tell him that true love
didn’t exist.
Because it didn’t. I had known that since I was five years
old and my dad walked out, leaving my mom weeping on
the floor of our shitty little kitchen.
I hadn’t seen my dad since. Hadn’t wanted to. Even when
Ryder and Moves suggested I try tracking him down, for closure, I wasn’t having it. Some stones are better left
unturned.
Not to mention that while I didn’t have many memories
of him, I had enough to know he wasn’t worth knowing. I
remember waking up to his drunken ranting late at night,
and I remember him constantly losing a job but blaming
someone else for his unemployment. It was never his fault.
His boss was always a prick, or his friend threw him under
the bus, or my mother was such a nag and drove him crazy.
My mother loved him, she really did. But that never did
her any good, just made her hurt all the more when he
betrayed her. Unfortunately, my mom fell in love easily. She
fell in love with the next guy, and the next, and the next.
And she always ended up crying with her broken heart in
her hands.
The truth was, people weren’t good enough for each
other. One way or another, someone always cheated or
walked out or lied. So I was happy to flirt and engage in the
occasional fuck, but why bother with anything else?
I wanted my life to be like the numbers on my
accounting books. Even, balanced. No lies. No evasions. No
room for slip-ups.
Moves shrugged at my silence. He was used to it. I had
never been much of a talker.
“Still waters run deep,” Moves mumbled.
I pushed my sunglasses on as we mounted our bikes.
“What about Kimmy?” Moves blurted out. “She’s cute,
right?”
I snorted. Moves had never been subtle. Also, I was
pretty sure he was the one with a thing for Kim, he just
didn’t know it yet.
“Definitely not my type,” I said. “Besides, she’s seeing
someone.”
“She is?” Moves asked.
“Yeah, I heard her telling Carlos about it the other day,” I
said. “Older guy, I think. Big corporate job, sounds like.”
“Fuck,” Moves said. “I guess someone is willing to risk
getting close to that bitch on wheels.”
I rolled my eyes at Moves’ ever-changing opinions. The
guy had more mood swings than a teenage girl. “You just
said she was cute.”
“Yeah, well,” Moves said. “I say a lotta things.”
I pushed my dark hair back from my face and rammed
my boot down on the pedal. I was getting sick of chit-chat,
even if Moves mostly meant well.
Moves started revving his own engine and our bikes
roared to life.
As we hit the open road, I couldn’t hold back my grin.
We merged onto the highway and headed south. If we were
to go straight west, we would hit the ocean. That was one of
my favorite rides, but we didn’t have time.
I leaned forward and urged my bike even faster. The
feeling of the wind pulsing over my face as my bike picked
up speed was what I had fallen in love with first.
The club and the brotherhood had just been added bonuses. I figured between my bike and my brothers, who needed anything else?
