Chapter Six
Banshee
The old ladies had convinced Aspen to leave the clubhouse. It was the first time since she’d moved in. The motherfucker who raped her was dead, thanks to Gunner’s old lady. She’d shocked the shit out of all of us when she called Gunner instead of the sheriff.
I didn’t want Aspen in town, though. The Death Dogs were an hour away, and while they hadn’t made any move toward us, the fact that they pulled up stakes and moved the whole damn club was a huge red flag.
If they weren’t here for Aspen, why else would they be here?
I kept my eyes on her tonight. It was purely for protection. I may or may not have threatened a few guys who were staring at her. They didn’t know I’d heard them talking. Heard them discussing the best way to separate her from her friends.
Now they knew.
She was so beautiful. The smile on her face as she laughed with the others took me back to the first day I saw her. When she came barreling out of the house, carefree and wild.
I wanted her to be that girl again. The one who felt safe and protected. The one who had her whole life ahead of her, and the possibilities were endless. Not this scared, quiet little mouse who kept to herself.
The night was cut short when Haizley, of all people, got into a catfight with Penelope Ridgefield. Penelope had been after Gunner for years. And apparently, she and Haizley had a history.
Following Aspen out of the bar, I grabbed her arm when she reached for the handle on Gunner’s vehicle.
“You’re with me, baby girl.” I led her to my bike.
“Banshee, what are you doing?”
“I’m taking you home.” Placing the helmet on her head, I swung my leg over and held out my hand, waiting for her to take it. She crossed her arms over her chest, making no move to climb on.
“Get on the fucking bike, Aspen.”
“No.”
“Aspen,” I warned. I wasn’t in the mood to play games. All fucking night I’d watched men leer at her. I wanted every fucking person in this town to see her on the back of my bike, pressed up against me.
I wanted them to know she was under my protection.
“I’m not riding with you.”
“Aspen, get on the bike,” I repeated.
“I’m not stupid, Banshee. I’m not your old lady. You didn’t want me.”
I leaned in and whispered, “Believe me, baby girl, I fucking wanted you. I’ve wanted you since the first fucking day I saw you.”
Her eyes widened, but she still didn’t move. With a heavy sigh, I swung my leg over the bike. If she didn’t get on herself, I’d put her ass there myself.
She took a step back, and Tank stepped between us.
“Brother,” he warned.
“Back the fuck off, Tank.”
“Can’t do that.” He took a step toward me, as if he thought he could intimidate me. He was a big motherfucker, but I wasn’t afraid of him like some of the others.
I might be one of the older members, but you didn’t stay alive in this life by being a pussy. I still worked out regularly and could bench press more than he fucking weighed.
“Tank,” Aspen said, touching his arm. She shook her head and glared at me. “Are you really going to do this?”
I ran a hand through my hair. When I shook my head, she removed my helmet, handing it back to me. We couldn’t have this conversation here. Not with my brothers around.
Gunner led her back to his truck. She glanced my way, and the pain I saw on her face broke me. I fired up my bike and tore out of the lot in the opposite direction. I needed a ride to clear my head.
I rode out of town headed in a direction I knew I shouldn’t. King had instructed us not to engage. And I would follow that order. But I could look. I could watch and learn.
Just before the state line, I pulled to the side of the road and removed my cut, tucking it into my saddlebag. Then, I climbed back on and drove to Hillsdale, Wyoming.
I followed I-80 out to Hillsdale, which, as it turned out, didn’t have enough people to even make up a town. Hillsdale’s population on record was thirty-nine.
Thirty. Nine.
I guessed with the Death Dogs in residence they were up over a hundred now. Riding through the town, I could see why they had chosen here.
I didn’t stop as I rode by the clubhouse, but I wanted to get an idea of what we were dealing with. It wasn’t much.
There was an old barn, and multiple trailers set up around it. I assumed the trailers were where the brothers slept. At least the barn looked solid.
At the edge of town, I turned south and stopped at a little place in Burns called The Tumbleweed. It was the epitome of a biker bar. I left my cut in my saddlebag and walked in. It didn’t take long to find a spot at the bar.
“What can I get ya?” The bartender was a big, burly guy, not much older than me. You could tell a lot about a guy from his appearance. His long gray beard and bald head told me he had perseverance. It took a long time to grow a beard that long. And dedication to shave your head every fucking day.
“Whiskey,” I answered as I looked around.
“Name’s Cecil. You passin’ through?” he asked as he set the glass in front of me and poured a healthy amount.
“You could say that.” I raised the glass and took a sip. I wouldn’t get shitfaced, no matter how much I wanted to. Thoughts of Aspen, and the fire in her eyes when she said I didn’t want her, had my dick hard.
I’d hurt her. I knew that. She could say what happened to her wasn’t my fault until the fucking cows came home; but the truth was, it was all my fault.
If I’d stepped up and claimed her when her father asked, she never would have been married to the motherfucker that hurt her. She’d still be living in Diamond Creek—with me. But she wouldn’t have been in that bar. Not alone.
Either I would have been there with her, and I would have been the one to fuck her in the bathroom, but she would have been a willing participant. Or, we would have been at home. Probably even had a couple of kids by now.
You could have a lot of babies in seven years.
I wanted babies. Wanted her to have my babies.
“Might not want to hang ‘round too long,” Cecil said, his voice low.
“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”
There were a few men and women scattered around the room.
I’d clocked the two guys at the end of the bar the minute I walked in.
I knew who they were. Taz and Wrench. Two patched brothers in the Death Dogs.
They were young, probably in their mid-twenties.
And by the way they kept looking my way, they thought they could take me.
“This place ain’t as hospitable as it used to be.”
“I don’t know. Seems like a great place to stop and grab a drink after a long ride.” I raised my glass and cheered the empty space between us. Cecil shook his head and grabbed the rag over his shoulder to wipe down the bar.
I sat nursing my drink as I waited for the two men to leave. Looking around to see if anyone else was paying attention, I asked Cecil, “How long have they been coming around?”
“Little over a month. Moved up to Hillsdale, and every night a couple of ‘em show up.”
“They causing any problems?”
“Not yet.” Cecil leaned over the bar, his meaty arms crossed in front of him. The rag back on his shoulder. “Heard ‘em talking one night. They’re lookin’ for someone.”
That made the hair on the back of my neck stick up. “You find out who?”
“A woman.”
“Fuck,” I hissed.
“I take it you know where this woman is?” Cecil asked. I wasn’t in the habit of talking to strangers, especially about club business, but there was something about this guy that said I could trust him.
Something I’d learned since moving to the Midwest. Most folks out here were trustworthy. They weren’t looking to make a name for themselves. They enjoyed their quiet life and wanted to keep it that way.
I didn’t answer his question, and he nodded his head, telling me he didn’t expect me to.
“Some friendly advice,” he added. “Get her outta town.”
“She’s not in town. Not close.”
“Keep it that way.”
I stood from my stool and pulled my wallet out of my pocket. I tossed a twenty on the bar and said, “Thanks.”
“Come back anytime.”
My senses were on alert as I walked outside, expecting an ambush. What I found were two Death Dogs, unconscious on the ground. At least I hoped they were unconscious. I didn’t want any trouble coming Cecil’s way.
I ambled over to my bike and found a note on my gas tank.
I searched the area for someone who might have left the note, but aside from the two unconscious men on the ground, no one was there. I stuffed the note in my pocket and climbed on my bike.
Without wasting time, I pulled out of the lot and headed toward home. I was uneasy until the clubhouse came into view. Something told me the two men in the bar knew exactly who I was. But did they know my connection to Aspen?
Had Skinner moved his entire club to Wyoming in search of Pepper’s wife? That didn’t make sense. No one moved a club that size for a woman. Especially one that wasn’t married to an officer.
I went into the clubhouse through the back. I wasn’t in the mood to talk, and I knew most of the brothers would be in the bar drinking, despite how late it was. At my age, getting wasted didn’t have the same appeal. It was a lot harder to get through a hangover than it used to be.
The next morning, I got back on my bike early. Making my way out of the clubhouse before anyone was up. I had a phone call to make, and I didn’t want anyone listening in.
I dialed the number. The bastard was an hour ahead of me, so I didn’t want to hear any bullshit about the time.
“What the fuck do you want?”
“Good morning to you too. How the fuck did you not know your daughter was missing?”
I heard him growl, then the rustling of blankets as he got out of bed.
“Do you know where the fuck she is?”
“How would I know that? You didn’t even fucking call once you knew,” I snarled at him. “How long has she been missing?”
“We don’t know.”
“How the fuck do you not know?” I asked. “You sold her off and what? Fucking forgot about her?”
“Listen, you son of a bitch—”
“No, you fucking listen. When I find her, you’re not getting her back. She’s mine now.”
“She should have been yours. This is all your fucking fault!” he shouted.
I squeezed the phone in my hand. The fucking nerve of this man. “You can’t blame me for this, you bastard. You’re the one who wanted to sell her off. Her life wasn’t a fucking bargaining chip for you to bet with.”
I disconnected the call and threw the phone across the parking lot, watching as it smashed into pieces. Walking over, I picked up the SIM card, snapping it in half. I tossed it into the river and went home.