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of the guys filled in. We passed through the street, wet from the afternoon’s shower, and sped off into the night. We turned and weaved through streets that were small enough to be alleyways and with each curve I wrapped my arms tighter around Jameson’s waist. We made it to a bridge and I gasped at the beauty of the lights that reflected off the water. A few more lefts and another right and we were pulling up to what looked like an apartment building, surrounded on the outside by a tall wooden privacy fence.
    As we pulled up to the gate I could see the glow of a fire on the side of the apartment building, casting shadows of the various people in the yard up onto the wall. I heard a man shout something and then hoots and hollers erupted as the pack pulled into the large yard, the rumbling of their motorcycles roared out as we pulled through the gate. Jameson stopped and killed the engine and I reluctantly unwrapped my arms from around him. I stood and removed my helmet, handing it to him and then looked out into the yard at the various people. Around me were men in leather cuts, some from this club and some from another, and mixed in were women of every age, shape, and size. Large metal barrels were glowing with fires as members stood around them, laughing and drinking.
    “They don’t bite,” Jameson said as he came up and stood next to me, “Well, not all of ‘em.” He took off toward the yard, turning to give me a wink and I followed after him.
    I followed him to where McGee, Ana, Butcher, and Joni stood a round a fire with other members, drinks already being passed around. I smiled as I watched Joni laughing and joking as she sipped on a beer. I was happy that she was finally starting to feel comfortable around them, and the fact that Butcher’s arm was snaked around her waist helped. I made it to the group and was introduced to a man named Sullivan and his ol’ lady Clare, another man they called Duffy, and a dark haired woman named Johanna. She looked to be a little older than myself and had a large collection of various tattoos. She welcomed me to the party and explained that if I needed anything to let her know. I felt more and more comfortable as each person I encountered welcomed me with warmness and a smile.
    I floated around the party, sticking as close to Jameson as much as I could. We talked as we mingled, and I learned that he was a few years older than me, a member of the King’s Cork chapter, and that his real name was James and had gotten his nickname from his love of the Irish whiskey. We were sitting on a picnic table as Jameson puffed on a cigarette and Johanna explained to me how she’d come to live at the MC clubhouse, when I heard a raucous from across the yard.
    I looked up and saw two large men in each other’s face s next to one of the fires. The one on the left was shorter than the other and had kinky curly black hair, the one on the right was taller and much bulkier. His long sandy blonde hair was pulled up into a bun on the top of his head as he pushed the other man a few feet back, snatching his shirt off and encouraging shorty to come at him.
    “That’s Knox and Rage,” Johanna explained as I stared over at the two men, both circling each other waiting for the other one to swing. “They do this all the time. Nothing to worry about.”
    I watched as the shorter one, Rage, took the first swing, his hand breezing past the taller one, Knox, as he leaned back and then threw a mean right hook and connected with Rage’s jaw. It was fist and elbows after that as the fight took off, members surrounding them shouting and placing bets as Knox’s fist connected with Rage and then Rage’s with Knox. The winning punch was thrown by Knox, connecting with Rage’s kidney and sending him slumping to the ground. Knox took a few steps away from him, took a deep breath, and then walked back to help Rage up off the ground. As Rage took his hand and stood up, he pulled Knox into a hug and patted