-Hailey-
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I turned from the door and made a beeline for the bar. My lips were still buzzing from Logan’s kiss.
My hands weren’t quite steady as I grabbed a glass and filled it with enough whiskey to calm my nerves. The liquor felt good going down. A temporary fire to fight the cold dread in my stomach.
Talon and Jake were at the end of the bar, hunched over a couple of beers. They weren’t talking. They were just… existing in the quiet. Two old lions resting between battles. The president and his vice–president.
Jake’s shoulders were slumped. Talon’s gaze was fixed on some distant point on the wall, his green eyes clouded with thought.
I didn’t say anything. I just sank onto a stool and took another sip, letting the quiet settle over me too. After a few minutes, Jake let out a breath that seemed to come from the soles of his boots. “I’m gettin‘ too old for this shit, brother,” he said, his voice low and gravelly.
Talon grunted, not looking away from the wall. “You’ve been sayin‘ that since we were thirty.”
“Yeah, well, now I mean it.” Jake took a long pull from his beer. “This used to be… I don’t know. Cleaner. Rival MCs. You fucked up, you got your teeth knocked in. You won, you drank for free.”
Talon grunted again, in agreement.
“For decades now, it’s been this… political crap,” Jake went on. “These Russians with their mind their fuckin… cufflinks. It’s a different kind of war. I ain’t sure I’m built to fight it.”
games and
He went quiet again. This was Jake Wilson, the unshakeable president. The man who held the whole chaotic mess of the Warriors together. And he was talking about being tired.
“The club needs young blood,” he continued, almost to himself. “Someone who’s still hungry. Still thinks they’re immortal. Not some old bastard who’s just tryin‘ to keep everyone alive long enough to see the sun come up.”
He glanced at Talon. “You ever think about it? Just… hangin‘ up the cut? Walkin‘ away?”
Talon finally looked at him. A weary smile touched his lips. “And do what? Take up fuckin‘ golf? My swing’s better suited for a crowbar.”
He reached over and clapped Jake on the shoulder. “Laura and I used to talk about it all the time. Back before the kids came along. It never worked out.”
He took a swig of his beer before continuing. “You’re not goin‘ anywhere, brother. The club’s your life. It’s in your bones, same as me. We’ll see this one through… then we’ll see the next one through. And the one after that.”
But I could see it. The truth Jake had voiced, and the truth Talon wouldn’t. Both of them were tired. They weren’t invincible. They were just men who’d been carrying a crushing weight for decades, and the straps
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were cutting deep.
Jake nodded slowly. He drained the last of his beer and pushed the bottle away. “I’m gonna go find Trina,” he muttered, sliding off the stool. “Might be the last quiet night we get for a while.”
Talon and I both watched him go. Talon sighed, turning his bottle in a slow circle on the bar top.
I swiveled on my stool to face him, the whiskey giving me a shot of courage. “He’s not really thinking about stepping down, is he?” I asked.
Talon turned his head, those piercing green eyes focusing on me. He didn’t seem surprised that I’d been listening. In this club, it seemed like everyone’s business was communal property.
“Jake’s been talkin‘ about retirement since the year after he became president,” he said with a low chuckle. “It’s how he blows off steam. Lets the pressure out a little so the lid don’t blow off. But yeah… this time feels different.” He took a slow drink. “The world’s changin‘. It’s not like it was when we were twenty.”
“And Logan?” The question was out before I could stop it. “Is he the ‘young blood? The one who’s still hungry?”
A weird look crossed Talon’s face. It wasn’t pride. It was something more complex, more weary. “Yeah, Logan’s always been hungry,” he said. “Problem is, for a long time, he didn’t know what he was hungry for. He just knew he wanted to tear into something. The club gave him a direction.”
He looked at me again, and I felt like he was seeing right through to the knot of anxiety in my gut. “You’re good for him… you know that?”
I blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. “I don’t know about that. I feel like I just give him one more thing to worry about.”
“Bingo,” Talon said, pointing his bottle at me. “Before you, Logan only worried about himself. And when a Nash man only worries about himself, he’s a danger to everyone around him. He’s a loose cannon. Now… he’s got a reason to come home whole. That’s not a weakness, girl. That’s an anchor.”
His words were warm and heavy. He wasn’t giving me a speech… he was stating a fact. Like it was as obvious as the tattoos on his knuckles.
“He tries to shut me out,” I confessed, the whiskey loosening my tongue. “To protect me.”
Talon actually laughed, deep and hearty. “Laura still hasn’t forgiven me for the first five years we were together. I did the same damn thing.”
He finished his beer and then turned to me again. “He doesn’t think you’re weak, Hailey. It’s not about that. It’s about knowin‘ exactly how much it would destroy him if somethin‘ happened to you. That’s a fear that never really goes away… you just learn to live with it. And you learn that a strong woman at your side makes you twice as hard to kill.”
It was the most I’d ever heard him say at once. Talon wasn’t the final boss character I’d created in my head. He was just a man who loved his wife, understood his son, and had spent a lifetime making impossible choices to protect the things he cared about.
The respect I felt for him in that moment was… insane.
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The barstool on my other side creaked, and I turned to see Abby slide onto it quietly. She didn’t say anything, just reached over and laced her fingers through mine, giving them a squeeze.
Her presence was a comfort. My own anchor in all this madness.
Talon’s eyes flicked to her, then back to me. He gave a small, approving nod, as if Abby’s silent support confirmed everything he’d just said. He set his empty bottle on the bar with a heavy *clink*.
He stood up and rested a hand on my shoulder. His grip was firm and surprisingly gentle. “It’ll work out, kiddo,” he said, his voice almost soft. “The club always comes out of these messes in one piece. We’re too damn stubborn for anything else.”
He gave my shoulder a final pat, nodded to Abby, and walked away.
The dread was still there, coiled in my stomach, but Talon’s words had layered something else over it.
A fragile warmth that felt an awful lot like hope.
AD
Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
