“It’s our business when he’s spending this much time on our property,” Gunnar said. “It’s about the club’s well-being, not his.”
“I’ll vouch for him,” Joker said.
The conversation fell silent, and all eyes turned back to Joker in surprise, including my own. A vouch was a big fucking deal. It meant that if Dawson fucked anything up—if he got in trouble with the club—Joker would be in just as much trouble. He was putting his reputation, and good standing with the club, on the line for Dawson. And from the serious expression on Joker’s face, I got the feeling that it wasn’t only because of his relationship with Brennan. He wasn’t doing this as a favor to Brennan—it looked like he really trusted that Dawson deserved the vouch on the strength of his own character.
Blade peered curiously at Joker, but Joker didn’t change his mind.
“All right, then,” Mal said. “Anyone willing to give a second to the vouch?”
I knew I shouldn’t—I knew it could end up biting me in the ass. But I couldn’t let go of the intuitive feeling deep in my gut that Dawson needed this gig. That if he lost it now, it’d start a downward spiral.
So before I could talk myself out of it, I cleared my throat and said, “I’ll second.”
Mal raised his eyebrows. This gave me the same amount of accountability that Joker had. If Dawson fucked up, we’d both be held responsible.
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Mal said.
Raven paused from where he was taking notes rapid-fire on his laptop. He furrowed his brow, peering up at Mal. “Why not?”
I understood his confusion—rarely, if ever, was a vouch questioned like that. There were a lot of reasons someone might vouch, and often they were deeply personal reasons, and if someone was willing to step up in that way, everyone else let them, despite their own feelings on the matter. Questioning it could be considered an invasion of privacy.
“Raven,” Mal said, pressing his lips together.
I knew what he was thinking, and I waved my hand in a friendly dismissal before Mal could tell Raven to drop it. All the members of the Liberty Chapter knew about my history, but most of the Elkin Lake guys didn’t. I wasn’t ashamed of it, though—better to lay everything out on the table now so that everyone was working with the full picture.
“It’s fine,” I said. I caught Raven’s eye. “I’ve been sober for six years now, but I’m still an addict. Drugs more so than alcohol, but it’s the same beast, you know.”
Raven winced and looked a little chagrined. “Sorry for being nosy.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” I said. “Really. I’m not ashamed of it. I wish I could change it, sometimes”—wasn’t that a fucking understatement—“but it is what it is.”
Around the table there were murmurs of agreement and nods.
“I’m involved the local Alcoholics Anonymous chapter now,” I said. “And I do a lot of work as a sponsor, which is why I sometimes have to cut out and take calls during shifts.”
Both Mal and Blade knew about that part, and both were more than happy to be flexible with my shifts to accommodate my sponsee’s needs. But from both of their expressions, I knew they weren’t so sure about my vouching for Dawson.
“You sure you want to take this vouch, Nix?” Mal asked. “I know you know how things like this can go.”
Joker caught my eye, his gaze a little curious like he thought I might rescind my offer. And maybe that’d be the wise choice. Maybe I was making a mistake doing this. But I simply nodded. “I’m sure.”
“All right,” Blade said. “That does it, then. Dawson will still be permitted to work under Brennan’s supervision on-site. Standard rules, though: no drinking, gotta show up on time, no hangovers—generally he’ll be expected to keep his nose clean. And the ban at Ballast still stands.”
Gunnar nodded in agreement.
“And if there’s a problem,” Blade said, “Joker and Nix will be making amends in Dawson’s stead. Sound good?”
Around the table, everyone nodded in agreement. Joker ducked his chin in a gesture of thanks, and I did the same. The meeting briskly moved on to the rest of the business we had to cover: finances, potential new prospects, detail work for the ongoing renovations. We wrapped up quickly then split up to grab beer or coffee and shoot the shit as per usual. I wandered out onto the back porch with a coffee, to chew over my thoughts on what the next few weeks would look like, now that I’d agreed to vouch.
I leaned my elbows on the railing and gazed out over the backyard. The brisk fall air helped clear my mind a little, and I took a deep, steadying breath.
Behind me, the back door opened, and then swung closed. Joker approached me with a beer dangling from his fingers, and he leaned against the railing at my side.
“Gotta admit, I wasn’t really expecting anyone to go for a second vouch,” he said.
I shrugged. “Why’d you offer the first one, then?”
Joker sighed. “Dawson’s a good guy. He can be a piece of work, sure, but he doesn’t deserve to lose this job just because of that. And I know what it’s like, feeling like people are trying to corner you and get into your business.” He rubbed the back of his neck a little sheepishly. “And he’s Brennan’s best friend, too. Brennan wouldn’t bring him around if he didn’t trust him. So I trust him, too.” He took a swig of his beer then glanced at me. “So, why’d you second it?”
A great question. One I was still grappling with myself. I sighed as I looked out over the backyard. “I guess I remember what it’s like,” I said. “And I definitely remember getting banned from my favorite hangout spots. It’s so fucking embarrassing.”
Joker hummed in acknowledgment. “I guess it would be.”
“If I were in his shoes and got banned from the bar and then immediately lost my job, I know I’d dive straight into the bottle.” I shrugged. “Maybe he wouldn’t, but… it just seems like an unnecessarily harsh punishment.”
“I’m with you,” Joker agreed. “He’s fine when he’s sober. Just makes some bad calls when he’s drunk.”
“Haven’t we all?” I asked with a laugh.
Joker nodded. “Well, thanks for the second. I know it’s a risk.”
“I can handle a little risk,” I said.
I didn’t mention the other reason I was willing to offer my second to keep Dawson on-site—that I was getting used to having him around. Maybe it was selfish, but I kind of liked having a bit of eye candy. If he needed a job to help him keep his head on straight, I was happy to provide that how I could, while mostly keeping my distance. And if I got a little thrill seeing him heave huge pieces of lumber onto his shoulder, moving throughout the construction site, well, that was my business.
Plus, I liked Joker, but we weren’t super close yet. I wasn’t exactly ready to talk to just anyone about my newfound interest in men. And it wasn’t even men that interested me—it was just Dawson. Watching his broad shoulders stretch the thin fabric of his work t-shirts made my head spin in a way no one ever had. No one had really even caught my eye since Sienna, and the fact that it was Dawson, of all people, catching it now was still confusing and overwhelming and probably a really bad idea. I still had a lot to work out privately before I would feel comfortable bringing it up with my fellow members.