March (Underland MC 3)

March (Underland MC 3)
Harley Wylde
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Copyright ©2024 Harley Wylde

March

“March, Ben knew,” Hatter stated, firm and resolute. “He knew.”

“Knew what?” I asked, even though I feared the answer.

“That we’re brothers. All of us,” Hatter replied. I knew what he meant. Sometimes family went beyond blood.

“Brothers ‘til the end,” Cheshire echoed quietly, and we drank to that unspoken truth.

The silence lingered like a thick fog, heavy enough to choke on. Cheshire broke it first, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “We’ve all got ghosts, brother. Some just scream louder than others. You and Ben… Well, you had a longer history than the rest of us had with him. And you were right there when it happened.”

No shit. Some nights, I still felt the spray of his blood coating my skin. The warmth of it searing me like hot coals.

“Damn right,” Hatter added. “Lost too many to count. Each one leaves a mark, but you keep going. Because that’s what warriors do.”

My fists unclenched slowly, the white of my knuckles fading back to flesh. Their words, raw and honest, chiseled away at the walls I’d built.

“Remember Rico?” Cheshire asked, tipping his chair back, his blue eyes clouding over. “Took three bullets meant for me. I hear his laugh sometimes, in the wind. It’s like he’s still here, riding with us.”

“Rico was a good man.” Hatter nodded solemnly. “Died a warrior’s death.”

“And Ben… he died a hero’s death,” I murmured, finally finding the strength to lift my gaze.

“Heroes, every last one,” Hatter agreed. His piercing eyes held mine, not letting me sink back into the dark. “And we carry them with us, every mile of the road.”

“Every damn mile,” I echoed, feeling the truth in his words weave through the pain.

“Look around, March,” Cheshire said, gesturing to the crowded room. “This is family. We’re your brothers, through thick and thin. We may not have all made it out of there alive, but our fallen brothers will live on in our memories. As long as we remember them, they’ll never truly die.”

I scanned the clubhouse, the familiar scents of oil and leather wrapping around me like a balm. Laughter bounced off the walls, and the warmth soaked into me. This place, these men, they were my sanctuary in a world laced with chaos.

“Family,” I whispered, allowing the word to settle in my chest.

“Always,” Hatter affirmed, reaching across the table to clasp my shoulder.

“Let’s drink to that,” Cheshire said, an edge of his grin returning. He raised his beer, and Hatter and I followed suit, our bottles clinking.

The tension drained from my body, seeping into the floorboards below. In its place, something warm unfurled, a sense of peace I hadn’t felt in a long time. It never lasted. Wouldn’t. Couldn’t. I took what little bits of solace I could find here and there. It was the only way to remain even somewhat sane.

“Brothers,” I said, meeting their eyes. The bond between us, forged in blood and fire, was unbreakable.

“Until the end,” they replied in unison.

For the first time in what felt like forever, laughter bubbled up from deep within me, genuine and freeing. I was home, surrounded by my brothers, and for now, that was all I needed. And when the nightmares returned, I’d have to remind myself of this moment, and all the ones like it we’d shared since we became civilians again.

The room hushed as I stood, beer in hand, eyes scanning the faces of my brothers. Each one carried scars, tales etched in flesh and soul. The air was thick with unspoken understanding, an electric current of shared loss that hummed beneath our skin. I knew they could tell by the look in my eyes that I’d been fighting my demons before I came in here. Each man had done the same, countless times.

“Tonight,” I started, “we remember those who aren’t here to raise a glass. Ben. Rico. Tate.” My throat tightened, a noose of grief tugging with every name.

“Vick,” Rabbit said, lifting his beer.

“Jarret,” Tweedle said.

“To our fallen brothers, may the road they ride be smooth and endless,” I said.

“Ride free,” the chorus echoed back, a haunting melody of respect and remembrance.

I drank, the bitter brew sliding down my throat. Swallowed past the lump that never quite faded. With each sip, a silent oath to never forget.

I lowered my bottle, the weight of brotherhood heavy in my chest. A patchwork family bound tighter than blood could ever dictate. It gave purpose to the pain, a beacon in the tempest that was my mind.

They didn’t know how much they kept me anchored, these men who shared my demons. How the roar of engines and their gruff voices were the only lullabies capable of quieting the cacophony of war that still played on a loop in my head.

“March,” Hatter’s voice cut through my reflection. “They’d be damn proud of you.”

“Damn right,” Cheshire added, his smirk betraying the moisture in his eyes.

Pride mingled with the sorrow, a bittersweet cocktail that warmed from within. This club, this duty I bore, it was more than a title or a role. It was a lifeline -- a reason to keep pushing when darkness clawed at my edges.

“Thanks,” I managed, my voice raw. “Couldn’t do it without you bastards.”

Laughter erupted, a salve to the open wounds. In their company, even the deepest cuts seemed to heal, if just for a moment.

Once a Marine, always a Marine. But here, in the Underland MC, we were more. We were guardians of each other’s sanity, keepers of stories too grim for the light of day. And protectors of this town.

I looked around at my brothers, their faces as hard as the lives we led, yet there was warmth there too. They were the pillars in the chaos, the constant in a life that had offered little else.

In the safety of shadows, where the world couldn’t reach us, we were invincible. And in that moment, I allowed myself to believe it. We’d already battled several times in this place we now called home, and we’d been lucky enough to not lose anyone.

Outside these walls, danger prowled, hungry and relentless. It clawed at the edges of our sanctuary, waiting for a crack to slip through, a weakness to exploit.

“Tomorrow’s ride is going to be dicey,” I said. “But we ride together, through whatever shitstorm comes our way.”