Crash flicked the dead bud of his cigarette to the ground as he pushed up from his bike, crossing his arms over his chest, causing the thin tee shirt he was wearing to tighten against the muscles.

"The fuck is he?" He questioned with a harsh tone, with no anger, just curiosity. And his normal bruteness.

Brandon was the one to whom he was speaking. Both of them belonged to the same motorcycle gang. However, Crash ranked second in command, and Brandon was just a patched member, in reality, Crash didn't see any difference between the two of them. They both had to work for the leather cut they now wore.

"Who would have thought I had a fucking brother? Well, half brother." Brandon stated, motioning to the male in question.

Crash gave the male a quick once over before huffing to himself. Light blue eyes catch the metal jewelry that adorn his face and lobes. The kid looked like some punk. The type that had a mouth on them; the type that only caused trouble for both him and the ones around him. Crash didn't like people like that.

"What are you like . . seventeen?" Questioned Crash.

"Nineteen." Replied Quinn, not caring for the attitude he was receiving.

Crash laughed, looking at Brandon again, shaking his head. "So you thought it was cool to bring a kid to the rally?"

Quinn glanced at Crash before he walked off. No longer wanting to be part of the conversation.

"Look! You scared him off." Motioned Brandon to Quinn jokingly, "He had nowhere else to be." Brandon rubbed the back of his neck. He knew that bringing Quinn wasn't against the rules, but it wasn't a good thing either. At least not to an event weekend like the rally, but he couldn't leave him sleeping on the streets either.

The brothers had only recently come to be in contact. Brandon was, honestly, surprised when Quinn showed up on his doorstep a few days ago. Completely unexpected. They had only been exchanging texts and a few phone calls for a couple of weeks prior. Brandon didn't want to admit it, but he didn't trust Quinn to be alone in his apartment for four days by himself.

Crash motioned for Brandon to go on. "All I know is that he aged out of foster care at eighteen. Somehow got my number, and now he's here."

Crash was displeased with the answer Brandon gave him. "So what has he been doing for the last year?"

Brandon shrugged. The fuck if he knew? Quinn had yet to say anything of importance to him. It had mostly been small talk between the two of them.  

Crash shrugged his shoulders as he uncrossed his arms, "Welp, whatever mess he makes this weekend is all on you, buddy." Crash smiled for the first time since he got here. "Boys got a little brother."

The rally was the last place Quinn wanted to be himself, but he could see that Brandon wasn't comfortable with him staying at his place. So when he asked him to come along, he said yes. He didn't want what kindness Brandon did have for him to go out the window, and it wasn't like he had anything better to do. However, the thought of spending a long weekend with nothing but a bunch of hot-headed men didn't please him one bit.

"Yeah, yeah." Brandon shrugged, knocking off the arm Crash had thrown over his shoulder as they started to walk towards the main area.

Quinn took a seat off the side of where the main group had gathered. He wasn't the only one who walked the event without a leather cut, but that didn't mean he didn't seem to stick out amongst the rest of them. All the men here, even some of the women had this hard look about them. Now don't get Quinn wrong. He was more than tough but the people here had this griminess to them. He wasn't sure if it was his own bias with them being bikers and gang members though.

The rally took place in the middle of bum fuck nowhere if you asked Quinn. Brandon had told him the event took place once a year at the same time. It didn't matter if it was rain or shine. The answer he got when he asked what exactly it was, was the gathering of all the chapters along the east coast. To Quinn, it sounded like a party weekend, and from the vibe, he was getting, that confirmed it for him, but Brandon said it was business too.

Quinn didn't pry any further than that. He didn't want to come off nosy or be asking about shit he shouldn't be asking about. He's been there before, and it wasn't so much fun. Quinn was pretty proud of himself for keeping his nose clean this last month. Both literally and figuratively. He knew he couldn't pop up on his half-brother he barely knew, high and asking for a place to stay.

Showing up at his brothers as he had wasn't the plan either, but that's what happened. Where he was currently staying the night was starting to get cold again, and he couldn't take another winter on the streets. He barely survived that last one. It took Quinn some begging, and the usual one had to do when needing to travel with no money to get him three states down to be with his brother.

He felt shitty, showing up with his tail tucked between his legs, but he didn't know what else to do. He had no one where he was. Then again, what was new? Quinn never had anyone to begin with. Part of him thought it would be nice to finally have someone. Blood bonded the two of them. Even if the only reason they were related was because of a one-night stand and a whole lot of booze.

Quinn didn't know he had a half-brother until he turned eighteen and was finally granted access to his file from the foster system. It took him some work to find Brandon. His mother thankfully had his birth father's name written down. It didn't take him long to find out he was dead. Took him longer to search the web for information on himself and any family he had.

Brandon was the only name he could find linked to the man. Quinn reached out on an unsteady limb when he contacted Brandon for the first time. He was shocked that Brandon even believed him when he first called. It wasn't uncommon for their father to sleep around. So Brandon hearing that he had a half-brother this late in life was more of a slight surprise than anything.

"Here." Commented Brandon, holding a beer out to Quinn.

Quinn didn't think twice as he took it. Not being of age to legally drink didn't seem to phase anyone here. Pretty sure he wasn't the only one breaking laws. Nor was this the first time he partook in drinking.

"Thanks." Quinn took a long sip, "I didn't expect this many people."

Brandon looked around and shrugged. "Most people aren't up for slumming it in tents for a weekend, but we're not most people."

Sleeping in a tent wasn't an issue for Quinn. Sure he would take the comfort of his brother's sofa over this, but he wasn't one to complain. He's been in a hell of a lot worse places than some open field in the middle of the woods.

"It's also a requirement." Brandon motioned to his leather cut.

If you were a member, you were expected to be here. The ones who weren't sporting a cut wanted one or were close to someone who was. Most of the women here were old ladies or girlfriends of a biker. Then there were the biker bunnies too. Brandon was personally fond of the biker bunny. Sex without strings attached was a pleasure for a man like him. He wasn't looking for anything more than a good time.

Of course, there was the chance of stumbling on a bunny that was crazy and caused drama, but thus far, he's been lucky enough to avoid that.

"Why is he staring at me?" Asked Quinn, raising his beer to Crash from across the way, showing that he noticed him.

"Crash, don't mind him. He's just cautious around new people," which he had a right to be. As second in command for his chapter, he was worried about any outsider who crossed their paths.

Crash smirked as Quinn called him out. He didn't care what he thought of him. Crash didn't care what anyone thought of him. All he cared about was respect.  

"As long as you keep your head down and not ask questions, this weekend will feel like a vacation." Stated Brandon.

"Vacation." Repeated Quinn. He didn't know what one of those felt like.