Chapter 34
CHAPTER
THIRTY-FOUR
Flyboy
The phone vibrating on the bedside table is like ice picks to my brain. Reaching over, I silence the piece of shit before rolling over and pulling Riley tighter to my body. Just as I start to drift back to sleep, it starts up again. Riley grumbles, wiggling deeper into the covers. Sighing, because I know that whoever it is will continue to call until I pick it up, I roll back over and grab it.
“You better be calling to say it’s done,” I snarl into the phone.
“Well, aren’t you all sunshine and roses this fine morning. The pests have officially been dealt with and church starts in exactly ninety minutes. Attendance is mandatory,” Mouth Peace rambles, like he hasn’t been up for the last twenty plus hours.
Riley mumbles something in her sleep, rolling over to curve her body along mine. I use my free arm to pull her tighter to me, doing my best not to think about how good her breasts feel pressed into my side. I kiss the top of her head before acknowledging the pain in the ass on the other end of the phone.
“It’s not normal to be this chipper after everything you’ve been through in the last two days,” I whisper, trying my best not to wake the sleeping beauty at my side.
“Never once have I said that I was normal, brother. Now, make sure your ass is in church. That is now, only eighty-seven minutes and counting away,” the psycho conveys, way too happy for this hour.
“I hear you. I’ll be there,” I mutter, still trying to get my brain to fully come on line.
“Making him a brother has unlocked something inside that man,” Riley sighs, wiping her eyes.
“You have no fucking idea. I swear, it's like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde,” I answer, running my hands up and down her back. “The way his brain works, makes me glad that he is on our side. Not to mention, I’m glad he took a liking to you.”
“What do you mean? Noah hasn’t taken a liking to me,” Riley scoffs before rolling away and stretching, pulling the sheet down to reveal her magnificent body.
“Damn, baby. That body was made to bring men to their knees.” I emphasize my declaration by rolling to kiss down her side and over her hip.
Riley laughs, swatting me away. “Stop it. We need to get ready and eat before church. I have a feeling that if you’re late, Noah will come find you. You wouldn’t want him to see me with no clothes on.”
Her words stop me in my tracks. “Dammit. Fine, let’s get ready and get you fed.”
I go to stand when Riley grabs my arm. “Flyboy, we still need to talk about the baby thing.”
I lean into her so there is no way she can misunderstand my words. “I don’t care. There are so many damn ways to have a kid. What matters most to me is having a strong, loving, and fierce woman at my side. That’s what I have with you. There is nothing and no one that can ever measure up to you!”
I kiss her long, hard, and deep. “I love you, Riley. You’re my Nightingale and will forever be the one to make my life whole.”
Tears stream down her face. “I love you, too. I was so scared. I even packed all my things.”
“Well, looks like while I’m in church you can unpack your shit. When we get back from our trip to Texas, we’ll find property and build you your dream home,” I tell her, smirking before pulling away and making my way to the bathroom to get ready.
I make my way into church and everyone seems more at ease, as if the cloud that has been hanging over our heads has now lifted and we can all breathe again. I take my seat next to Duck.
“Rumor has it, you’ve got your very own bruiser.” Duck lowly whistles.
“That woman is full of surprises, and rises above all obstacles every day,” I reply.
Duck throws his head back laughing, patting me on the back. “Welcome to the club, brother. Don’t be stupid enough to cross her.”
I shove his shoulder chuckling because I know he’s right. Mouth Peace and Smith come in, heads close together deep in conversation. Followed by a very pissed off Pretty Boy and an annoyed Coin. Once we’re all seated, Steel comes in with a look of thunder in his eyes. Fuck, this can’t be good.
“Does someone want to explain to me how an Ol’ Lady not only got into the basement, but into the room where we were dealing with issues? To not only see what was going on but killed one of the men!” By the time he’s done speaking, he’s so red that I swear he’s on the brink of having a stroke.
Torch and Razor both stand. Torch speaks first, “That would be on us. Vixen was having complications, and when we came up the stairs to check on her, I didn’t verify that the doors were closed and locked properly.”
“Razor, do you agree with that statement of events?” Steel snaps, the anger not simmering the slightest.
I stand because this is as much on me for not being sure that everything was locked up and sealed tight. “This is on me as well. I was left responsible for taking care of the pests, and I didn’t verify that everything was as it should have been.”
“I don’t actually give a damn who was in charge of it. What I want to know is how once a-fucking-gain you boys had your heads so far up your own asses that you let an Ol’ Lady get caught in club business,” Steel spits, starting to vibrate.
We don’t say anything at all, just stand there letting the weight of his words fall over us. He’s not wrong. Once again, we’ve fucked up and let an Ol’ lady be a part of something she shouldn’t have been.
“Can I bring something to your attention, Prez?” Mouth Peace is watching Prez closely.
“Choose those words carefully. I’m about five seconds from stripping all patches and turning this shit hole over to an allied club that might be able to hold this shit together,” Prez snarls.
His words hit us so hard that we all seem to hold our breaths. He can’t be serious about this. He’s just angry about what happened. There’s no way we would vote to allow that. I look over at Torch, who is wearing such a look of pure shock, that I know I didn’t mishear our Prez.
“Maybe just hear me out. That the Ol’ ladies keep finding themselves in club business isn’t because we’re lacking, but because we’re bring in badass women that we know will have not only their Ol’ man’s back but the club’s as well. Is it ideal? No. Yet we know that they’ve brought strong and capable woman into the fold.” Mouth Peace finishes with a shrug of his shoulder, making it sound like a question.
Steel falls back into his seat, eyeing the man. “I don’t know that these assholes deserve to have you at their backs.”
“Tell me something I don’t already know.” Mouth Peace smirks, nodding in agreement.
“Dammit, you boys have to get it to-fucking-gether. So now that we all know what happened, how has the pest been dealt with?” Prez questions.
“This man, right here, is beyond crazy.” Wesson leans forward, pointing at Mouth Peace. “Currently, the pests are brewing in their very own barrels of Mountain Dew.”
Prez looks us all over. “You know, as long as it’s done, I don’t want to fucking know. Second, are we all good at lifting the lockdown? If you agree, say aye.”
We all agree.
“Thank fuck. If I had to spend another week locked in I was going to lose my fucking mind,” Pretty Boy grumbles.
“Last thing to talk about is our trip to Texas. I called the piece of shit in charge of the Dazed Monkeys, and he’s agreed to have us come for a visit. All who agree on taking a trip, say aye.” Prez puts the trip up for the vote.
We all agree to the trip, ready to be on the road.
“Sounds like we have a plan. Duck, let us know when you have a route plotted out. Who all is taking the ride?” Prez asks.
“I,” Torch says.
“I,” Smith and Wesson say at the same time.
“I.” Mouth Peace nods.
“I,” Pretty Boy grits.
“You know I am,” I throw out.
“That’s plenty. Duck, make sure the enforcers know the plan and what needs to happen. With Lil’ Red being pregnant, I’m glad there are enough of us for you not to have to come along. Everyone else stays. While we’re gone, I’d like for all the Ol’ ladies and kids to stay at the clubhouse, just in case. Anything else from anyone?” Prez asks, looking around.
We all stay silent, letting the events settle over us. No one says a word. Hell, I think we’re all barely breathing.
“That’s church. Duck, I want to be on the road in twenty-four hours,” Prez snaps, banging his gavel on the table.
We all stand, our thoughts on getting ready to hit the road. My original plan is to find Riley, only I find myself moving toward the front door. For the first time since my accident, I’m on the hunt for my bike, only my hands start to sweat and my nerves begin to take over. I manage to make it through the front door and out into the open air, feeling the sunshine on my face. The sound of the door opening behind me has me turning my head to see Wesson and Coin standing there.
“Finally ready to get back on the bike?” Coin wonders, slapping me on the shoulder as he walks by me.
“Where is it?” is all I can seem to get out of my tight throat.
“It’s in the garage. Let’s go take a look,” Wesson states, moving past me to follow Coin.
I walk behind them slowly, still not sure if I’m ready for this. We make it to the garage and Coin slides the door open, and where in my head there was going to be a mangled mess, there was my bike as if I parked it a year ago and nothing had happened. How the fuck?
“What? How?” I stutter.
“Well, what did you think was going to happen? We’d just leave it sitting in a mess of bent metal?” Coin chuckles.
“No, to be honest, I had no fucking idea what to expect. It damn sure wasn’t that it would look pristine, like I parked it here and just walked away,” I tell them, still taking in my bike so perfectly fixed. Am I going to be able to ride? Will I be able to handle holding the throttle long enough with all the damage my hand sustained?
“I don’t know if I’ll be able to ride long enough to make it to Texas with my hand the way it is. Hell, I don’t even know if I’ll be able to make it around the fucking corner,” I think out loud, not really talking to myself.
“That’s the great thing, your bike has been completely rebuilt. We were able to add “cruise control” and everything else is on the left. We also added floorboards and extended crash bars to allow you to stretch out.” Wesson points at everything as he tells me about them.
Coin smiles. “So get your ass on the bike. Go grab your girl and go for a ride.”
“First ride won’t be with her but let's see what we can do,” I tell them, walking over and throwing my leg over the saddle, setting it up. I’m shocked that there isn’t as much pain as I would’ve thought there would be after the damage inflicted.
“Fuck yeah, let’s ride, boys.” Wesson smacks me on the back, heading for his bike.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket I shoot Riley a message.
Headed out for a bike ride. I’ll be back shortly.
To my complete surprise she messages me right back.
That’s amazing! Have a great time! I love you!
I stare at the three words still shocked by them.
I love you too.
I slide my phone into my pocket and grab the clutch, starting my bike for the first time since the night I nearly lost it all. A small wave of anxiety washes over me, shockingly followed by a wave of pure joy. The vibration and rumble remind me of the freedom that comes with being on a bike. I pull my helmet on, bringing my uninjured leg up to shift into first gear.
The bike rocks forward like it’s ready to run. Wesson and Coin’s bikes rumble to life, bringing a smile to my face. “Let’s ride.” We shoot through the gates, taking a right onto the main road. My bike rides like she always did, itching to be let loose, running wild and free. We come to the first curve and I slow, taking it slower than normal trying to get my bearings. That only lasts about twenty minutes, and then, I’m riding like nothing ever happened. We only ride for about an hour before heading back. Once back in the yard, bikes backed in and parked, I pull my helmet off smiling like a fool.
“Fuck! It’s so fucking good to have you back on the road, brother.” Wesson smirks as he heads into the clubhouse.
“It feels damn good to be back,” I chuckle.
Twenty-four hours later—on the dot, we’re getting ready to head out and ride to Texas. It’s going to take us about three days to get there. Thankfully, we have several allied clubs not far from the Dazed Monkeys for us to lodge with. I close the lid on my saddle bag, turning to face Riley.
Cupping her jaw, I tilt her head up. “I’ll be gone for about a week. You can go back to work and live your life. Just listen to the brothers that are here. If they feel like it’s not safe, do as they say. I’ll call and text when I can.”
Riley comes up on her toes kissing me. “Just come home. I love you.”
I pull her tight to my body kissing her like it’s going to be the last time I do so.
“I’ll be back. Be safe. I love you,” I tell her with my forehead pressed to hers.
“Love you!” She steep back with the other Ol’ ladies, watching us pull out like rolling thunder.
We ride for as long as possible each day, pushing to get there and get this shit over with. When we pull into the allied club’s parking lot, they are ready to party. We spend the night partying and hanging out, releasing the tension of being on the road for so long with alcohol and laughs. All the brothers take it easy so that we’re all on our A-game tomorrow with the Dazed Monkeys.
The next morning, we roll out, and in less than thirty minutes, we’re pulling up to the gates of the club. A foreboding feeling falls over me, as if this place is dying and if we stay too long, we’ll be dying with it. We park our bikes being sure to stay in a tight cluster in case there’s an attack. We move toward the broken down building as a unit. As we make it to the door, it’s pulled open, and the smell of body odor, smoke, sex, and drugs wafts out.
“Welcome, brothers.” Crispy, a man no more than five-ten, skin and bones, calls from just inside the door.
“Thank you for having us here,” Prez says, stepping up and shaking his hand.
We follow his lead into the rundown clubhouse. The inside of the club is even more worn down then the outside. Men are laying around high or drunk with club girls even higher than they are amongst them. As I continue to scan the room, one face in particular makes me wonder what is actually going on.
“Absolutely. Anything to bury the hatchet between our clubs. As you see, we had a little party last night and things got crazy.” Crispy chuckles, waving his hand around the room.
“I see one brother didn’t party as hard as the others.” Steel eyes the other man standing behind the piece of shit.
“Oh, Moose. He’s the newest brother we have, and since we don’t have any prospects, he’s still on bitch duty. Speaking of which, get us some beers!” Crispy yells out.
“Where should we sit?” Prez questions, doing his best not to turn his nose up at the state of the club.
“Well.” He turns, looking around as Moose makes his way to us.
“Prez, why not take them out to the back of the clubhouse to the picnic table?” Moose suggests.
“Aww, great idea. Men, follow me and let’s get this meeting underway,” Crispy chuckles, leading us out.
We spend exactly two hours in that man's presence, and by that point, I’m so close to snapping this man's neck that it takes all the control within me not to. Eyeing my brothers, I see that they are feeling the exact same way. Crispy tells us that there are no hard feelings, that he supports how we handled the men that infiltrated our territory.
“Well, it was great talking with you. We need to get back and get some rest for the ride home,” Prez says standing, reaching out to shake his hand.
“It was a pleasure. I look forward to working with you in the future.” Crispy’s slimy words make me want to poke my eardrums out.
We make our way around the clubhouse to our bikes, knowing with Moose standing there we’ve got nothing to worry about. As we mount up, Torch looks over at Steel having a silent conversion. We pull out onto the road heading out of Dazed Monkeys territory. We make it two territories over before stopping at a dive bar. We pull off and dismount, heading into the bar.
We take our seats watching the large T.V. over the bar. Coin goes and orders the first round. When he gets to the table, he drops down with a big sigh.
“Wow, that asshole really does think a lot of himself,” Torch says, taking a long pull of his beer.
“Do you really believe that this is the end of things with him?” Mouth Peace wonders out loud.
“Not for a second. What we’ve got to figure out is how to handle things in a way it won’t fall back on the club,” Prez says, typing away on his phone.
“Are we not going to acknowledge the fact that Owen, the jackass, was standing in that clubhouse?” Razor snaps, looking at all of us like we’re all unhinged.
“I figured he was like Beetlejuice and saying his name would summon him,” Mouth Peace says with sincerity.
I nearly spit my beer out laughing. “I mean, you’re not too far off. He does seem to pop up out of nowhere with all the fucking answers.”
“I’ve got questions for that man and the next time he turns up because this is fucking insane how he manifests with answers and all the information before we get a chance to ask for them. For now, let's sit back, eat, and drink a couple of beers before we start the haul back,” Prez suggests, leaning back into his chair.
We do just that. We eat, drink, and just hang out with brothers for the first time in nearly a year. The front door bangs open, and in walks a tall man in a suit. He comes strolling through the bar like he owns the place. When he spots us, he gives a stiff nod to Prez in acknowledgement. When he makes it to the door at the back of the bar, he gives it eight sharp taps and it swings open.
“Was that who I think that was?” Smith whispers, looking a little shocked.
“If it was, it's time to go,” Wesson says, his body language tense.
“He doesn’t travel alone, so I don’t think it was,” Smith answers as the door bangs open again.
In walks a dark headed man, again in a suit that costs more than this entire bar. As he passes, he nods and smirks at Prez, his steps never faltering. He makes it to the same door knocking in two four sharp sets with his knuckles.
“Looks like that’s the confirmation we need to get the hell out,” Smith snaps, throwing the rest of his beer down his throat. “Because that was Luca Volkov, meaning the first was Yuri. I don’t know why the Russians are here, but we don’t want to be caught in the middle of whatever is about to go down.”
Prez raises an eyebrow. “It’s almost as if you guys are running from the boogey man. We know that if those two are here, we’re good. Enjoy the food and your beers.”
The T.V. above the bar blares with a new, urgent alert, and when the report starts speaking, I’m lost for words.
The reporter begins relaying the story, announcing, “I’m standing here as a local motorcycle gang’s property has gone up in flames. Officers are saying that at this time, it appears to be a drug lab explosion has caused the blaze. Unfortunately, there are no survivors, and it’ll take time to identify all those who have lost their lives in this catastrophic event.”
We’re so engrossed in the T.V. that we don’t hear the door open again. All of a sudden, there’s a man standing at the end of the table. Finally able to tear my eyes away from the T.V., Beetlejuice himself is standing there in an expensive ass suit.
With three sharp knocks on the table, he states, “It’s funny how the trash takes itself out, isn’t it? You boys have a safe trip home.”
We sit there staring as he walks away, to the same door knocking with a different series of knocks before it’s pulled open. None of us say anything as we continue watching the screen, still in shock about the events they’re reporting.
“Well, gentleman, it’s time to get home,” Prez decides, standing and heading for the door.
Standing, we follow him to the door. Getting on our bikes to head home, letting the satisfaction seep in that the club is safe and not responsible for the take down of another club.
I’m coming home, Riley. Ready to start living our forever.