The clubhouse was set up more like a lodge with all the bedrooms upstairs and the common areas downstairs. It was a log building with wood accents throughout the home. I stared in amazement at the vaulted ceilings and large window views. I wondered how the club got the money to afford a place like this but didn't dare to ask.
"Did my father stay here?" I asked. "He did." He told me, "before me. He left after meeting your mother." There was a wall in one of the hallways that held photographs of every biker member of this chapter since its founding, posing sternly with their bikes. Cole showed me my father's portrait and I was stuck staring at the familiar stranger.
He looked the complete opposite of how I remembered him, youthful and rebellious. A touch of arrogance lit up his eyes and I
