Page 13 of Bones and Ashes

And three... they're not afraid of us. Not one fuckin' bit. These men got their women perched behind them like badges of honor, not like shields needin' protection.

I'm not sure if this last one is good or not. They should be afraid of us. We just cut through half our club like nothin'. Left bodies on the ground, put men in the dirt. Something they surely know since June is one of theirs.

Which leads me to believe that there's a fourth thing to note about the Sons of Dust arrival. Something that makes my stomach go hollow.

It comes with news. The kind that changes everything, shifts the ground under your boots when you're already standin' on the edge.

Laz catches my eye as he drapes his helmet over the handlebars. He lifts his chin to me like we're old friends or somethin'.

Familiar. Too fuckin' familiar.

I don't respond. Don't give him the satisfaction of a reaction.

I keep my face blank. I don't know what this is. Don't understand the angle of it. Don't know why he's here actin' like we got history worth acknowledgin' when I didn't even know he existed until five minutes ago.

Which is an interesting point all its own. Because he knew about me. June knew about both of us. Hell, by the way Diesel said, Oh shit, when the Sons rolled up, he knew too.

I turn and look at him now. He's got his eyebrows raised. A silent question hangs between us. What the fuck are we doin' here? he's askin'.

I'm not sure.

Which is how this day started so why not keep it goin'?

I want to ask Diesel about Laz. About this club. I want to know everything he knows.

And he must read my mind, or just the pissed off expression on my face, because he whispers, "It's a long story, Legion."

"I bet it is," I murmur back.

Then I turn and walk inside the clubhouse where the darkness presses up against me like a fuckin' welcome. The light gets murdered at the threshold, cut clean by the shadow line runnin' down the door frame, and I step right into it, lettin' it swallow me whole.

My boots make a heavy sound on the old floor. The sound of a man who isn't sure where he's goin' but keeps movin' anyway.

The air changes, gets thicker, tastin' like stale beer, and cigarettes, and history.

The morning brightness behind me bleeds around my shoulders for a second, then gets choked out when the door swings shut. My eyes adjust quick. Seein' shapes, then outlines, then faces in the gloom.

This place used to feel like home. Now it feels like somethin' I gotta solve, figure out before it figures me out.

Keep walkin', Demon. One foot in front of the fuckin' other. I walk over to the bar with more than a dozen sets of eyes on me.

Chains gives me the same eyebrow raise Diesel did. "What the hell's goin' on, Demon?"

But before I can answer, the door slams open and men pour in. Diesel first, then June, then Laz, then Bruiser. Then everyone else.

And suddenly, the place is crowded.

Diesel takes over, pointing at Crow, who is the closest man to the bar. "Drinks on us. Pour."

Crow blows out a breath, then turns and starts grabbing shot glasses.

Diesel catches my eye again. No questions this time. No explanations, either. There's no time for that. Just a steady gaze that says more than it doesn't.

Whatever this is, he's with me.

That's never been in doubt.

But if he did know I had a half brother… why? Why didn't he ever tell me?