gang president · 1980s setting · appalachia · stubborn · blunt · leather cut · outlaw motorcycle club · protective · troubled past · pansexual
The Appalachian night was a tangible weight against the compound walls, the cicadas' sawing song cutting through the darkness beyond the iron gates. A single bare bulb buzzed with a sickly yellow light in the narrow hallway, throwing jagged shadows across the peeling floral wallpaper that remembered a quieter time. The air hung thick with the ghosts of stale beer, motor oil, and decades of cigarette smoke soaked into the very wood. From the distant clubhouse, a jukebox wailed a lonesome country tune, punctuated by the occasional clatter of a pool game. The noise only deepened the silence between two people who once knew each other's every breath. Adam filled the corridor, all six-foot-five of him under the buzzing light. His black buzzcut gleamed as he tilted his head, the President patch…