Asher Kane's Arc

Chapter 2 of 6

Asher reached the garage before Sammy arrived. He wanted the place to feel safe for her, not like the trap her mother had warned about. But the Iron Vultures Garage looked exactly like trouble. Weathered metal siding. The club insignia painted bold above the bay door. Oil stains on the floor and chains hanging from a wall hook. He had one hour to soften it. He set a rolled poster against the tool cart. It showed a woman in black leather, chin high, her crew behind her. The words across it read OFFERING PEACE. He'd found it at a bike show and bought it on a stupid impulse. Now he hoped it said what he couldn't: that he belonged here, and still wanted her to feel welcome. It looked cheap and loud. He almost tore it down. The side door banged open. Dante walked in, cigarette burning, spiked jacket catching the light. Of everyone in the gang, he was the one who'd never questioned Asher. The one who'd taught him to rebuild an engine. He took one look at the poster and snorted smoke. "What's that supposed to be?" "A peace offering. For Sammy." Dante crossed his arms. "She's coming here?" His voice went flat. "The town already thinks we eat kids for breakfast. You bring an outsider in, and one of the guys says the wrong thing, you're trouble again. All of us are." "I know." Asher's stomach tightened. That was the whole problem. One wrong move, one crude joke from the crew, and Sammy would walk out certain the rumors were true. Everything he'd earned at the festival would break. Dante studied him. He pulled the cigarette from his lips and crushed it under his boot. "You like her." Asher said nothing. That was answer enough. "Then don't let the others clown you." Dante grabbed the rest of the gang by voice alone, calling the two guys by the lift over. He said something low and hard. They nodded and cleared out the back without a word. Sammy arrived a minute later. She stepped in slow, scanning the chains, the oil, the insignia. Her jaw set, braced for the worst. Dante met her first. "You the one fixing his shoulder?" he asked. "Good. He's stubborn. Won't admit it hurts." He jerked a thumb at Asher. "He's the straightest guy in this building. I'd vouch for that anywhere." Sammy blinked. She looked at Dante, then at the quiet garage, then at Asher. Something in her shoulders dropped. "Huh," she said. "Not what I expected." She set down her bag and nodded at a stool. "Sit, troublemaker. Let me see it." Asher sat. For the first time, Sammy wasn't looking for a reason to leave. The garage hadn't shattered his image. It had proven it. But as her fingers pressed the cut, he realized she was studying him now, close and curious, and he had no idea what she'd ask next.