Chapter 7
DRIFTER
The road to the clubhouse felt longer than it had the last time I was there. Maybe it was the nerves tightening in my gut, or maybe it was coming back to a place that would remind me so much of home. The sun was just starting to bear down on me when the gate came into view.
I pulled up, and seconds later, one of their guards came strolling up. He was a young cat, muscled up with tattoos and a fierce expression, and he didn’t appear all that pleased that I’d just rolled up on his turf. “Can I help you?”
“I need a word with Preacher.”
“Oh yeah?” His eyes narrowed. “Who should I say is asking for him?”
“Name’s Walker,” I answered. “But he’ll know me as Rogue from the Kansas City chapter.”
He gave a tight nod, pulled out his phone, and after a quick conversation, he motioned me through. “Head on in. He’s waiting for you at the bar.”
“Appreciate it.”
I dipped my chin, then drove past the metal railing and up to the back entrance. Once I’d parked, I killed the engine and removed my helmet. I took a second to look around, taking everything in. The tall fencing looked new, and the clubhouse itself had a fresh coat of paint and a new roof.
But beneath the polish and upgrades, it had the same rough edges, and, just as I knew it would, the place reminded me of home. It was a different building, a different chapter, but it had the same heartbeat and contained men I considered brothers.
But that didn’t matter. I wasn’t here to get comfortable. I was here to deliver a warning, and as soon as I gave it, I would get the hell out of there. I rolled my shoulders and eased off the seat, then let out a deep breath before starting for the door.
I stepped inside, and before my eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, I spotted Preacher standing at the counter with his broad shoulders squared and a coffee mug in his hand. He’d aged a bit, but he looked to be just as fierce as he always was.
Grim and Creed stood on either side of him, both with their arms crossed and unreadable expressions. Like me, Grim had started to gray and had his fair share of crow’s feet, but he hadn’t withered away. Hell, far from it. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the man, and Creed was just as fit.
I might’ve felt a twinge of jealousy over the fact, but the feeling was short-lived. My time for taking on the world had come and gone, but they
were his right-hand men. It was their job to note potential threats, and me showing up unannounced could be a reason for concern.
A smile spread across Preacher’s face when he saw me walking towards him. “Well, hell. I thought I was hearing things when Skid said your name.”
“Afraid not,” I chuckled, continuing my approach. “Been a long time.”
“Too long.” Preacher shook my hand as he said, “Where the hell you been?”
“Out on the road.” He knew my story. They all did. So, I kept it simple and said, “Needed some time to clear my head.”
“I get it. We all need a minute to catch our breath from time to time.” He clapped a heavy hand against my shoulder. “Can I get you a beer or a bite to eat?”
“A beer would be good.”
“You got it.” Preacher motioned over to the girl behind the bar, and in a matter of seconds, I had a beer in my hand. “Stone didn’t mention that you were coming ‘round.”
“That’s because he doesn’t know I’m here.” He gave me a look, so I added, “He checks in from time to time, making sure I’m still breathing, but that call came last week.”
“So, he doesn’t know you’re back?”
“Never said I was back.” I cocked my head. “Just here to share a brotherly warning.”
The second the words left my mouth, the air shifted. Grim’s back stiffened, and Creed uncrossed his arms and glared at me. Preacher’s smile faded as he asked, “What kind of warning?”
And just like that, whatever welcome I’d first walked into was gone and replaced by the kind of tension that came when danger stepped in and pulled up a seat.
All eyes were on me as I told them, “I’ve been up in the Dakotas for a while…
Colorado before that, and Utah… Never stayed in one place too long, but I stayed long enough to hear that you boys have some trouble coming your way. ”
“I’m not following, brother.” There was no missing the doubt in his voice when he added, “We’ve got no qualms with anyone in the Dakotas, at least none that I’m aware of.”
“You heard of the Coyotes?”
As soon as I said their name, Preacher glanced over at Creed and Grim, letting me know I’d gotten his attention. “Yeah, we’ve heard of ‘em.”
“Well, they had lots to say about Fury and mentioned Little Rock outright.”
“What’d they have to say?” Preacher asked, his voice dropping into a calm, dangerous tone.
“A lot of mouthing about getting revenge… and they weren’t quiet about it.”
I laid it all out and told them exactly what I’d heard, and the tension in the room grew with every word. When I was finished, Creed leaned back against the bar counter and asked, “Said we made ‘em look weak, huh?”
“That’s what they said.”
“There’s a reason for that.” Creed’s eyes skirted over to Grim. “The assholes thought they could get away with fucking with a couple of our boys, and we proved them wrong.”
“And when they thought they could rob the Vault, we proved them wrong about that, too,” Grim added.
“Wait… They started this shit?”
“Every bit of it.”
“You gotta be kidding me.” I shook my head. “They fucked up, and now, the entire charter is looking to show you guys who’s who. And from the sound of it, they aren’t planning on doing it small. They’re pulling together anyone pissed off enough to take a swing at you.”
Grim muttered a curse under his breath, but Preacher didn’t even flinch. He just stood there, stone-faced, taking it all in. After several moments, he finally asked, “When?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, but I got the feeling it will be sooner than later.”
Preacher ran his hand over his beard and grumbled, “Fuck.”
Yeah. That about summed it up.
Preacher studied me for a moment, like he was trying to figure me out. “You came all this way just to warn us about the Coyotes?”
“Figured you deserved a face-to-face, especially in a situation like this.”
“That mean you’re planning to stay awhile?”
The answer was supposed to be no. Hell, that’s what I’d told myself the entire ride down here.
I was just going to deliver the message and be on my way.
No stopping. No making ties. No getting sucked into club business that wasn’t mine, but I couldn’t deny that being in the clubhouse had stirred up old feelings of belonging and brotherhood.
Which led me to answer, “If that’s good with you… I’d like to give you guys a hand with things if you’ll take it.”
He didn’t smile, but something eased in him, like he expected me to tell him that I was heading out and was pleased when I didn’t. “I’d appreciate that. We all would.”
“Then, consider it done.”
“Good deal.” I felt an unexpected wave of relief when he said, “I’ll set you up in one of the spare rooms, and you can make yourself at home.”
Damn. I must’ve been more tired than I thought. I gave him a nod, then said, “Appreciate it, brother. I’m in dire need of a hot shower and some shuteye.”
“You got it.” Preacher motioned to one of the guys by the door. “Go grab Walker’s stuff and show him to the east wing.”
And that was my cue to step back and give them some space to talk in private. My warning had caught them by surprise, but I had no doubt they were already planning on how they’d counter their attack. They just had to map out their defense and decide which bridges to burn and which ones to lean on.
When I turned, Creed clapped my shoulder and nodded, thanking me for coming. Grim didn’t say a word. He just stood there watching me like he always did, too damn perceptive for his own good. The prospect and I walked out to my bike, and he helped me gather my things.
As we headed inside, I should’ve been questioning my decision to stay. I should’ve asked myself why in the hell I was putting myself in the middle of another club’s fight. But I didn’t.
All I felt was certainty.
Somewhere between the diner, the warning, and the look in Preacher’s eyes, I knew this was where I needed to be.
The prospect was a tall, lanky kid with nervous energy and an eager grin, and he wasted no time getting me down to my room. Once we reached the end of the hall, he pushed one of the doors open and announced, “This one should be good.”
We stepped inside, and like the spare rooms back at home, it was just a basic room with a bed, a small dresser, a TV, and an attached private bathroom. It was better than what I was used to, so I dropped my bags on the floor and said, “This will do.”
“Good deal.” The kid inhaled a quick breath before adding, “Name’s Smitty, by the way. If you need anything, just holler. Towels. Food. You name it, and ah… we can run your dirty clothes through the wash, too, if you’re interested.”
“They got you boys washing clothes now?”
“Ah, hell, no,” Smitty scoffed. “They got club girls who handle all that crap. And the cooking, too. I’m just letting you know it’s an option.”
“Then, yeah.” I kicked off my boots. “I’ll get a load together.”
“Cool. Get settled, and seriously, if you need anything…”
“I’ll let you know.”
With that, he ducked out, closing the door behind him. The room went quiet, and my exhaustion started to seep in. I felt like my bones were made of lead as I started to take off my clothes. I tossed them into a pile, along with my other dirty clothes, and headed into the bathroom.
I stepped inside the shower, and the hot water cascading down my aching muscles was damn near holy. I washed twice just to feel human again, then stood there until the mirror fogged and the entire room was filled with steam.
I finally got out and dried off, and when I returned to the bedroom, the first thing I noticed was the empty spot where my dirty clothes had been. Smitty must’ve come back, and when he did, he brought food and some drinks, leaving them on the dresser for me.
Nice touch.
Unnecessary, but nice.
I made it to the bed, barely, and the second my head hit the pillow, I was out. And I mean out. There were no worries or dreams. Just deep, dark sleep, the kind that pulls you under and doesn’t let you up until you’re ready to face the world again.
I didn’t wake up until the next morning. It was rare for me to sleep like that, but I wasn’t complaining. I needed it, and I felt like a new man as I got out of bed and put on some fresh clothes.
I opened the door, and as I stepped into the hall, I could hear voices talking in a low, concerned tone.
They were still piecing together the threat and planning their counterattack.
It was a lot. They had the club, their families, to protect, and the last thing they needed was an outsider hovering around while they hashed things out.
So, I decided to make myself scarce and headed out to my bike.
Once outside, I saw several brothers coming and going, but I didn’t speak. I just kept my head down and kept moving. When I reached my bike, I threw my leg over the seat, fired her up, and rolled through the gate, like I had someplace to be.
I didn’t.
In fact, I had no idea where I was going. Not until the diner came into view. It was the same place I’d stopped at the day before. I told myself I’d come back because the breakfast had been so damn good.
Hell, they had the best eggs I’d eaten in months, and the toast wasn’t half bad either.
But that wasn’t it.
There was another reason, a stupid one, but I was too thick-headed to admit it. I cursed myself as I pulled into the same parking spot and killed the engine. “You’re making a mistake with this shit, and you know it.”
I knew it was true, but I killed the engine and headed inside anyway.
The bell above the door chimed, exactly the way it had the morning before, and the air was heavy with the scent of bacon and coffee.
I made my way to the back and claimed the same booth I’d sat in before, and it wasn’t long before my waitress appeared, sporting the same exhausted expression. “What can I get you?”
“Three eggs, bacon, grits with cheese, and toast. Don’t care what kind. And coffee. Lots of coffee.”
“Coming right up.”
As soon as she walked away, I glanced around the diner, searching for any sign of the beautiful woman or her two boys, but they were nowhere to be found.
And I won’t lie.
I was a little disappointed, and that confused the hell out of me.
I’d spent the last five years running from the ghosts in my head, and now, I had gone completely against the grain and was sitting in a diner, hoping to cross paths with a woman I’d spent all of two seconds with.
It was insanity.
The second I laid eyes on her, the noise in my head stopped. Not all of it, but enough that I forgot to brace myself. Enough that when she looked at me, I didn’t want to disappear.
I’d spent years avoiding anything that felt warm or steady, but one chance meeting at a diner, and suddenly I was doing things I didn’t understand.
Maybe it was too much sun.
Maybe being out on the road so long had finally gotten to me, and I’d cracked.
Or maybe it was her.
Whatever it was, it was the first time in a long damn while that I didn’t feel the urge to bolt.
I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the table as I stared out the window, looking for answers to a question I was afraid to ask.
The waitress set my plate down in front of me, and I nodded my thanks, picked up my fork, and forced myself to focus on the meal.
Bite after bite, I reminded myself who I was, what I was doing here, and what I was and wasn’t allowed to want. I was actually starting to get it through my thick skull when the bell to the front door rang. My heart stopped beating the second I looked up and found her walking towards me.
Fuck.
This was worse than I thought.