This made sense. So much of it, it was sad at the same time it was beautiful.

“Okay,” I whispered.

“My sister’s addiction, I steer clear of any ‘a that shit so I do not smoke pot, my choice, personal. Others do, I don’t judge. You wanna try that shit, that’s your choice too and I won’t judge that either. But you wanna try it, you do it only with me around so I can look after you.”

“I don’t want to try it,” I assured him and he nodded.

Then he declared, “Outside pot, drugs do not touch Chaos.”

I licked my lips before I asked hesitantly, “So I take it they veered off that dark path?”

“No, they did not. I came back with a fire in my belly to get my Club clear of that shit, stop makin’ it easy for people to take the escape my sister took and make certain I did not become the man my father was. But I was smart enough to bank it. I bided my time. I built up the garage and the stores. I recruited brothers who saw things my way and we planned. The monetary success of the stores and garage had to cover the Club so their lifestyles didn’t change too much when we pulled our shit off that dark path. I got enough support, I took over. It was hostile. We lost some brothers, they renounced the Club, took off, started to do their own thing. And it was unpopular in factions outside the Club. We were good at what we did and the people we worked with weren’t real happy we were no longer going to provide that service. Shit got ugly, lost a brother to it, but we got clear. And one of the suppliers we worked for was the Russian mob.”

I gasped. “You lost a brother?”

“Yeah.”

“As in, he died?” I whispered.

“Bowin’ out of safe transport of narcotics is not the same as handin’ in your resignation.”

Too true.

“The Russians?”

“Yeah. I still am not popular with them. And there’s another reason why Arlo and High are about showin’ you respect. They like the money but they also like the rush. Danger is a drug and they’re hooked. They are the last of the brothers who are still tryin’ to get us back in. They got ties to the Russians to keep that avenue open for us should they get me out. What they didn’t expect was that the Russians would pick up someone connected to Chaos. You and me were new, the Russians didn’t want you and had no clue who you were. Even so, that shit doesn’t fly with Chaos. Collateral damage, no matter how that comes about, is unacceptable. Kids, women, not just old ladies but you just bein’ the garage’s office manager, was steppin’ over a line and that line is not drawn in the sand, babe. Not for Chaos. That line is fixed in cement.”

This was good to know.

“Right,” I said softly.

“So Arlo and High are on board and after this is done, where it takes us, I have no clue. Maybe the Russians takin’ you and Lanie, not backin’ down after that shit, not givin’ us our due by admittin’ their mistake, sending lieutenants to offer apologies, might have been a wakeup call to just how cold those motherfuckers are. You’re ours and you weren’t safe. Lanie has nothin’ to do with Belova’s shit and she wasn’t either. This means no one is. That’s a serious wakeup call ‘cause both Arlo and High got old ladies and High’s got kids. After we sweep up that mess, I don’t know how they’ll go. What I know is, drugs took my sister, I worked my ass off to get my brothers where they are, livin’ free and stayin’ free by not doin’ stupid, dangerous, f**ked up shit that could get our asses in the joint or worse, dead, and my Club will not be involved in that shit in any way or I won’t be involved in the Club.”

“So you, um… don’t do anything illegal?”

He held my eyes.

Then he said quietly, “I didn’t say that.”

Oh boy.

Tack rolled again so I was on the bottom and he was looming over me.

Then he explained and he did gentle-like so I knew I was in for even more.

“We do what we gotta do to protect what’s ours and what we do might be frowned on in the eyes of the law. Case in point, there’s a twenty-three year old motherfucker who’ll think twice before he moves on another sixteen year old girl and definitely he won’t raise a hand to a woman. And he ain’t breathin’ easy and without pain learning that lesson because of you slappin’ him and unmannin’ him. He’s doin’ it ‘cause once you were gone, me and the boys finished the job.”

I figured they’d kept up with my lessons after I left so I nodded.

Tack went on.

“We also do what we wanna do to enjoy our lives and, you seen it, that includes shit like smokin’ pot. We got beefs with other Clubs or out in the world, we deal and that shit can turn bad. And a five mile perimeter around any Ride store is free of drugs and hookers. We parole it and if there’s a dealer or bitch on our turf, we don’t call the cops but we do take measures to remove them.”

Oh boy.

Tack kept going.

“But Ride’s books are clean and that means squeaky. We don’t transport drugs. We don’t offer enforcement. We don’t sell tail. We don’t sell guns. We build cars and sell auto supplies.”

“Sell tail?” I squeaked and Tack kept holding my eyes when he replied, “I told you that path was dark.”

Holy crap!

“So, uh… now you aren’t drug transporters, pimps and gun runners, you’re mechanics, hell raisers and kind of vigilantes?”

“Yeah.”

“But you were all that,” I whispered and Tack kept right on holding my eyes.

“Yeah.”

“You,” I pressed.

“Me,” he answered immediately.

Oh boy.

“Babe, my scope was Ride and the garage. This does not mean I didn’t get pulled into that shit. I did. And as a brother, I did my bit. And it took a long f**kin’ time but I did more than my bit to pull all of us out.”

“Okay,” I said softly. “So this was why I got all those ‘laters’? Because you weren’t fired up to share all of this?”

“This was why,” he confirmed.

I pulled in breath through my nose.

Before I could process any of what he said much less come to terms with it, Tack stated, “Love and redemption.”

My head tipped on the pillow. “What?”