Chapter Three

Ash’s POV

The roar of the clubhouse hit me before I even turned off my engine. Laughter, shouts and the sound of bottles clinking rent the air and for a moment, I wonder how they could easily fall back into their normal lives less than twelve hours after an attack. It was chaos the way I remembered it, but somehow louder and more… non challant. Inside, the air was thick with smoke and sweat. A few brothers cheered when they saw me, others nodded, their eyes sharp, reading me like they weren’t sure what version of Ash had come back.

Smoke walked towards me the moment he set his eyes on me. 

“Where did you go?”

“None of your business.” I replied. 

“Come on, Ash. I am just looking out for you.”

“I don't need looking after.”

“Well, atleast did you get the injury treated?”

“Obviously,” I replied pushing him aside and maneuvering my way through the croud. 

“Vega!” Griff’s voice cut through the noise. The president stood near the bar, his muscle bulging and scars visible. He was wearing a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Heard you took a bullet and survived it. Guess prison didn’t kill your luck.”

“I don't plan on dying yet,” I said, stepping closer.

He handed me a beer, “You still got fire in you?”

“Not the kind you’re thinking of.”

His smile faded. “That is a huge problem?”

I met his gaze. “You know why I went down, Griff. I paid a price for this club and I’m not doing that again. So if you think this is a problem, then it sounds like a you problem.”

He leaned in, voice low. “This isn’t you, brother. What changed?”

“Life changed… you do not spend six years in prison and come out the same man. For some, it pushes them to be notorious but for me, I've been self reflective and taken some decisions.”

“The Reapers are cutting into our routes. We’ve lost two shipments this month and if we don’t hit back, we’re finished.”

I took a slow breath. “Then find another way. Because if I raise my hand again, I might not come back.”

He stared at me for a long time before scoffing. “You’ve gone soft.”

“Maybe,” I said, “or maybe I’m just done burying pieces of myself.”

“Well, goodluck with that. Let's see how long this game lasts. ” He said and walked away, muttering something under his breath, and I could feel the stares following me. Brothers who once called me family now seeing something different.

I needed some air.I left before the music swallowed me whole. Outside, the night air cooled my skin, but it didn’t quiet my mind. The world had moved on while I was locked up, but the club hadn’t changed. It was still blood and loyalty, and both were starting to choke me to death. 

……….

The next afternoon, I rode into the city, heading nowhere in particular. My shoulder still throbbed under the bandage, but it was the pain in my chest that hurt worse. The sound of laughter, the echo of Griff’s voice, the faces of brothers who’d never get out.

I ended up outside the clinic again. Don’t ask me why. Maybe I just wanted to see that someone out there lived a life that wasn’t painted in red.

Through the window, I saw Noah bent over a kid on one of the cots. The boy looked like he was about sixteen. His face was pale, his shirt torn and his arm bleeding through a bandage.

Something made me quite uneasy. I pushed the door open, and Noah’s head snapped up. His eyes narrowed when he saw me. 

“You,” he said flatly. “What the hell are you doing here?”

I stepped inside slowly. “What happened?”

“What do you think?” His voice was sharp. “Some kid got caught in your war.”

My jaw tightened. “He’s one of ours?”

“No. He’s just a kid. Wrong place, wrong time. Shot in the crossfire of some of your brothers playing soldiers.”

I moved closer, looking down at the boy. He couldn’t have weighed more than a hundred pounds. His breathing was shallow and the whole sight made my stomach twist.

Noah turned on me. “Oh, come on. Stop acting like you're disguested by blood. You shed some yourself.”

I shook my head slowly. “I’m trying not to anymore.”

He let out a bitter laugh. “You think that matters? You think you can just walk away and everything stops? You’re all the same, you fight, you swear it’s for loyalty, and the rest of us clean up your mess.”

“I didn’t ask for this war,” I said quietly. “I came out of prison trying to do better.”

“And yet here you are,” he snapped. “Right back in it.”

I looked at the boy again, his hand twitching on the cot. “If I’d known, I would’ve found a way to stop it.”

“Then stop it,” Noah said, voice low, angry and tired. “And don’t come back here.”

Something in his tone hit me like a punch. I took a step back. “I don’t want this life anymore,” I said. “Not like this.”

“Why are you telling me all of these?”

“I don't know…” 

He studied me for a second obviously at a loss of words. Then his eyes softened just a little and whispered. “Prove it.”

Without saying a word, I just nodded and walked out.

……….

That night, I sat outside the clubhouse, watching the flames in the fire furnace burn. Smoke sat next to me, quiet for once, nursing a beer.

“You're thinking too loud again,” he said.

“I am?”

“Yes. What’s in your head bro?”

I hesitated. “The club’s changing, Smoke. Griff wants war and I don’t.”

He looked at me sideways. “You think you can just quit?”

“I’m not quitting,” I said, “I’m trying to live.”

He scoffed.“Okay, baby boy. What did prison do to you?”

“Nothing, this just isn't the life I want for myself.”

“You always were the one with a conscience.” Smoke scoffed. 

“Funny,” I said. “It didn’t feel like that when I was in the cell.” I threw back.

Instantly, silence settled between us.

“Griff won’t let you sit this out, you know.”

“I know. But I am ready for him.” I leaned back, staring at the stars. 

In that darkness, somewhere at the back of my mind was a pair of grey eyes and a clean white room that still smelled like comfort.

I didn’t know what I was doing, but for the first time, I wanted something different. Something that didn’t leave blood on my hands.

And maybe, just maybe, Noah was the one who could show me what that looked like.