Abel Wilder stands and moves toward me. I hold out my hand, and he takes it before bringing me in for a hug. The man’s frame shudders and he makes a choked-up sound. When he pulls back, I can see he’s barely holding in tears while he gives the same handshake and hug to Zane.
“Have a seat, boys,” he utters gruffly, pointing at the table. “Just not at the head. That's Prez’s seat.” We sit and face theman who raised our best friend. The father he spoke so highly of despite their differences in lifestyle choices.
“Sorry it took me so long to reach out. And that Austin had to go for me.”
“You missed his funeral,” I reply, my tone flat with no emotion. I want to be angry at him, but seeing him now, the man looks broken.
Abel meets my eyes. “I did. I couldn’t imagine seeing my son like that for the last time. I don’t want to remember him in a box, not smiling, not moving. You know Tric. He was life and laughter.”
Tears sting my eyes and my throat pinches painfully. “We did know him, sir. With all due respect, if he didn’t want this, I wouldn’t be here. But Tric trusted me with his last wishes and I promised him.”
The man nods, his eyes falling to the table. “Did he want you to tell me how horrible of a father I was because I sent him away? Did he hate me?”
Zane’s hand grips the edge of the table. “Tric never hated anyone. He was a good man and a kickass soldier.”
“He didn’t hate you, Mr. Wilder. He was upset, and yeah, he resented the fact that you didn’t want him to be part of the club when he turned eighteen. He felt like he lost his family in some ways. But he didn’t hate you. Tric was too good for that. He planned to come home when he was discharged and he wanted to be part of the club,” I tell the man and slide him the envelope that holds Tric’s last wishes. Anytime we were stationed overseas or in combat zones, we were asked to redo our wills. Amongst our group of friends, we also set aside our last wishes for our family, friends and loved ones in the event we didn’t make it home alive.
Abel takes the envelope and his fingers shake slightly. I recognize the tremor in his hands after having seen it in myown father when Alex died. Inside, a piece of paper falls out, but it's the rectangular piece of fabric that matters the most. Abel’s breathing turns choppy and tears slide down his face while he looks at the patch.
“He wanted that patch because he loved you and this club. He understood the life you wanted him to have, the experiences his momma wanted of him too. He picked out the name for himself.”
“Tric-ster.” His father grips the patch while he reads the letter.
I already know what it says and I hope after reading it that this man can find peace. His son was a good guy and helluva soldier. Even in death he wanted to ease everyone around him. He wanted to make amends with his father and come home to his family.
“You boys have no idea what you’ve given me by coming here. Thank you for this. Thank you for being my son’s family for all of these years. He talked about you all the time. You were brothers to him.”
My head drops, feeling the words sink into my soul. Tric was looking out for all of us in his own way. Austin opens the door and looks around.
“Everything good?”
Abel nods at his old friend, his president. “Buy them another round on me.”
“Do you boys need a place to stay the night?” Austin glances at Zane and me.
I look at Zane who shrugs his shoulders. “We’ll hang around for a while.” Not like we had anywhere to rush off to.
Technically, I’m discharged, and once my paperwork is final, I have nowhere else to go. I don’t have a plan after the military. The only reason I made the trek from Texas to Tennessee was to take care of Tric’s final business and be at his funeral. Home isn’twhat it used to be. After years of distance, I don’t feel at home when I’m at my dad’s. I don’t belong in that town.
Austin leads us back to the bar area, which is no more lively than when we arrived. Men of different ages, shapes, sizes and color hang out in the area. Their sense of camaraderie reminds me of the military. It brings back memories of deployments. Times when I had a purpose and knew what I was doing with my life.
“This place is actually pretty cool,” Zane says, his eyes glancing around.
“Yeah,” I agree with him, taking everything in on my own. Something in my chest settles here. I don’t know if it's because I feel closer to Tric or because the atmosphere is familiar, but the dull ache that's been there all day lessens.
“Where are you two heading next?” Austin asks us, while signaling for Ari to bring us two beers.
“I have an old apartment to clear out then I’m not sure. Probably finish school or something,” Zane replies, his smile dropping, replaced with a frown.
“Colt?” Austin glances at me.
I swallow the small dose of panic rising in my chest. “Haven't decided yet, sir,” I reply then take a chug of beer. Fuck. I haven't thought about much since being home and Tric dying. I knew my discharge was in the works. I just thought I’d land on my feet eventually. My decision to enlist in the Army was rushed, and everything after it was part of my job, the duty and service I signed up for. I went where they told me, lived how they instructed, and put my life on the line when missions came up. Zane, Tric and I talked about life after our service, but those dreams went up in smoke after his death. I’m unbalanced and lost in my life once again.
Austin’s eyes roam around the room, lost in thought. His own beer bottle hanging loosely from his fingers. “Most people seeMC and they make assumptions. They tend to judge a book by its cover. But when you’re in, when you’ve earned that patch, you’re family. I would die for one of my brothers and I know they’d do the same.”
“Are you saying you don’t do illegal activities here?” Zane deadpans, with absolutely zero fear when he looks the president of the Rebels of the Undead in his eyes.
Austin makes a face that looks like a scary bear trying to smile. “I’d have to put a bullet in your brain before I tell you anything about my family. I’m just saying that sometimes there are lesser evils in this world. We don’t live by what is black and what is white, good or bad.”
