Page 3 of Bolt's Flame
I hopped off my bike and gazed at the wide, wrap-around porches supported by tall columns, though the paint was no longer the original white, but painted in the club’s colors of red and black. Large, arched windows lined the front, some of the glass original and wavy, offering glimpses of the sprawling interior. The front steps creaked underfoot as I walked up them, and the thick wooden double doors, heavy with iron knockers, stood resilient, as if welcoming the comings and goings of the club members.
Inside, the main hallway opened up into what we call our common room, where once a chandelier might have hung. Now,industrial-style lighting flickered overhead, casting a warm, yellow glow. The hardwood floors, scarred from decades of use, and the original fireplaces still stood in each room, though now outfitted with leather couches, bar stools, and motorcycle gear and memorabilia everywhere.
The air inside was thick with the smell of old wood and tobacco, a smell from by-gone days that never seems to fade.
Developers had been trying to buy this property for years, but once word got out that it wasn’t a good idea to come snooping around, they stopped coming.
The bass thrummed through the walls of the clubhouse, making the floor vibrate beneath my boots. “Jacob, a bottle,” I called out to the prospect as I leaned back against the bar, the beer in front of me before I could look away. I took a slow drag from my bottle of beer, my eyes scanning the crowd around me. Laughter, alcohol, brotherhood, this was the life.
My lifeand at thirty-seven had been for a long time. It should be enough to keep the demons at bay so I could be that happy-go-lucky guy everyone thought me to be.
It usually did.
But not tonight.
Tonight, things felt off, strange.
Jenny sidled up next to me, her hand sliding down my arm as she pressed her warm body against my side. “Hey there, sexy,” she purred, her voice dripping with honey. “You look like you could use some personal attention.”
I barely glanced at her, still feeling so fucking weird. Normally, I’d be all over that—no strings, no expectations, just a quick escape from the noise in my head. But tonight, it just wasn’t happening. The familiar itch under my skin wasn’t going away, no matter how much I tried to scratch it.
“Not tonight,” I muttered, taking another swig from my bottle.
Her smile faltered, but she wasn’t deterred. She leaned in closer, her breath hot against my ear. “C’mon, Bolt. Don’t be like that. I’ll make you feel so fucking good, just like always.”
I shot her a sharp look for being pushy. “Jesus Christ, Jenny, I said, not tonight.”
She huffed, pulling back with a pout. “Your loss,” she threw over her shoulder as she sauntered off, her hips swinging in a way that was meant to entice. But I was already looking past her, my mind a thousand miles away.
Ishould’vebeen in the mood, a quick fuck to relax me. Fuck, I felt like a caged animal, restless and pissed off for reasons I couldn’t quite pin down. I’d been this way since getting back from West Virginia, watching my brothers from that chapter and Pennsylvania settle down, not just taking ol’ ladies but getting fucking married and having kids.
It made me feel those familiar stirrings I’d been having lately for something I promised myself to stay away from, to avoid at all costs. You’d think after growing up watching that fucking shitshow it would be enough to crush any rumblings of wanting a family.
I shook my head, trying to shove those thoughts back where they belonged, and scanned the room. My brothers were scattered throughout the room, shooting pool, tossing back drinks, shooting the shit, or getting cozy with the sweet butts who lived for nights like this. This was our sanctuary, our world, and I needed to remember this is what I wanted—what kept me sane.
The front door slammed open, and the noise in the room dipped as everyone turned to see who was coming in. I straightened up when I saw Horse, one of the older members, striding in with a look on his tan weathered face that sent a jolt of unease straight through me.
Something was going down.
“Bolt,” he barked, his deep voice loud, even over the music blaring. “I need a word.”
Without hesitation, I put my bottle down and pushed through the crowd toward him. All my dark thoughts were forgotten, wondering what the hell I did to Horse. You never wanted a beating from him. The brother didn’t just look mean; he was built like a fucking tank and fought old school—dirty and with fists of steel.
“What’s goin’ on?” I asked, my voice cautious as I reached him.
Horse’s eyes were dark, his face worried. I’d never seen him like this. “It’s my girl, Fiona. She’s in trouble. Real trouble. You got a truck, right?”
My chest tightened. I didn’t know Fiona well, could barely remember her. She wasn’t around the club much. Horse kept her far from the MC’s rough edges. But now, seeing the fear in Horse’s eyes, I knew this was bad.
“Yeah. Where is she?” I asked, already bracing to go into battle with him.
“With that bastard she married,” Horse spat, his jaw clenched. “I knew he was no good, but she wouldn’t listen. Now she’s callin’ for help, and I’m not lettin’ her down. We’ll go in your truck since I don’t know if she’ll be able to ride on the back of a bike. Plus, we can bring her shit back.”
“I’ll keep you out of jail while I’m at it,” I said, not even thinking of saying no. Loyalty ran deep, and Horse was family, a brother with one hell of a hot temper. “Let’s go,” I said, my voice hard, all business now.
We moved fast, the party fading into the background as I grabbed my keys and followed Horse outside.
We rounded the clubhouse, passing all the motorcycles surrounding it, and jumped into my old blue 1975 F-250 truck,a classic. The truck spun dirt as we barreled away from the clubhouse, not wanting to waste a single second