Page 14 of Existential

“Yeah, Murph, I do.”

He reclines in his seat, rapping the knuckles of his right hand on the table. “Your father and I knew these days would come, where the need to survive went hand in hand with riskin’ injury or death. Nobody starts an outlaw motorcycle club with the illusion it’s going to be sunshine and roses the whole way.”

“True.”

“We also knew the day would come where people would divide because of those issues. Where members would pick sides, trust would be lost, and lies would become the truth, simply because there were so many nobody could recall what was fact and what wasn’t.”

“Where you goin’ with this?” I harden my gaze on the guy, trying to get a read on the message between the lines.

“The day will come; we’re on our way down that road already. But brother, you gotta hold on. Don’t let the club fall divided on your watch.”

“You know that’s not my intention.”

“Maybe so, but best intentions never turn out how we hope, do they?”

“I guess not.”