Chapter 6
Chapter Six
Texas walked through the clubhouse, eyes scanning for Lynx. He found the brother tucked away in the clubhouse office. Knocking once, he waited until Lynx gave a quick wave to come in.
Lynx looked up, eyebrow raised. “What can I do for you?”
Texas didn’t waste time or words, “I need some tools.”
Lynx’s gaze sharpened. “What kind of tools?”
“Pliers, a blowtorch, a handheld drill with a flathead tip.”
Lynx studied him. “Do I want to know?”
Texas shrugged, careful not to reveal anything. “Just make sure the numbers are ground down and scrubbed clean.” He added, low, “Somewhere no one from the chapter would catch heat if this goes sideways.”
Lynx smirked, sarcasm dripping from his words, “how about a bucket of acid and a barrel while I’m at it?”
Texas sighed, realizing the trouble his request was causing. “A pair of tin snips will do.”
He hadn’t expected resistance. Lynx knew what Texas did on the side — the darker work away from the eyes of the Montreal Chapter. Lynx had tried to recruit him into the North Bay Chapter more than once. Their focus was different relocating women and children escaping abuse.
Lynx stood, eyes locked on Texas. He opened his mouth to ask if Texas needed help but thought better of it. “Give me twenty. I’ll see what I can find.”
He stepped into the hallway, leaving Texas alone with the weight of what was coming.
Texas went back to check on Sunday before leaving the clubhouse. He found her sitting on the bed, back against the wall, eyes fixed on the door. The way she stared — empty and waiting — told him this was going to be harder than he thought.
He shut the door quietly behind him, closing the gap between them. Sitting down on the edge of her bed, Texas hesitated. How much did he want to tell her? How much could he?
The silence stretched, heavy with unspoken things neither was ready to face.
“I’ve got an errand to run. I’ll try to be as quick as I can.”
Worrying about Sunday being alone in a strange place, Texas added, “In the meantime, Lynx’s Ol’ lady will come by to check on you. Her name’s Jessikah.”
He stood up and grabbed his smaller backpack. As he reached for the door, he glanced back at Sunday. “I put some sodas, water, and those sandwiches in the fridge. Make sure you eat something.”
“Please come back,” she whispered.
Texas turned back, surprised by the sudden vulnerability. He didn’t know why he felt the need to comfort her, but he stepped forward and motioned for Sunday to come closer. When she stood, he pulled her into a tight hug.
“I promise I’m coming back, Sunday.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice fragile, fighting not to break. She didn’t want to lean on Texas like this, but right now, he was her lifeline. She barely knew anyone else here—only Lynx, and even that was just a name she’d been introduced to.
Slowly, she let go and moved back to the bed. “I’ll be right here when you get back.”
Texas gave a small nod. “I’m counting on it, Sunday.”
He opened the door and left, the sound of it clicking shut lingering in the room. Sunday sat on the bed, wishing he’d hurry.
Texas made sure to pick up the rest of his tools before heading to the bar Lynx had recommended.
Parking his bike outside the North Bay Tavern, he took a moment to survey the lineup of motorcycles stretched out across the lot.
The more bikes, the better—the bigger the crowd, the easier it’d be to disappear into it. And right now, he needed to vanish.
Swinging his leg off the bike, he pulled his colors from the handlebars and unrolled his black leather vest. Slipping it on, he locked up his ride with practiced efficiency. A couple of guys passed by, nodding at him; he returned the gesture without breaking stride as he pushed through the door.
Inside, the music blasted through the thick haze of smoke. The bar was packed, bodies pressed shoulder to shoulder. Texas eased onto a stool at the bar and caught the bartender’s eye.
The heavy-chested brunette came over quickly. “What can I get you?” she asked as he kept his gaze fixed on the TV flickering in the corner.
“Yuengling flight.”
“Draft or bottle?”
“Bottle.” She started to walk away, but Texas stopped her. His usual beer was too easy to spot. “Actually, make that a Miller Lite.”
“Coming right up.”
With his order placed, Texas turned his attention back to the TV. When the beer landed in front of him, he tossed some cash on the bar and nodded a thanks. He knew he’d have to drink at least this one—and probably another—before he could feel comfortable moving from the bar.
As he settled in, a large hand clamped down on his shoulder.
“You must be as lost as I am, brother.”
Looking up, Texas saw another Nomad from the chapter. Eros stood beside him, juggling his attempt to order a beer.
“Nakota, what are you doing out in North Bay?”
“I’m coming from White River, headed east.”
“Where to?”
“To visit Cree and Kennedy in St. Tite. We’re going apple picking at Moulin à cidre.”
Texas choked slightly on his beer at the mention of his family’s orchard. Raising a hand to quiet Eros before he could start giving him a hard time, Texas said, “That’s a great place.”
“You know it?”
“Yeah. Make sure you guys stay at the Little Inn down the road from the orchard.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Eros glanced toward the bartender, who still hadn’t made her way down to their end of the bar. “What does it take to get a drink in this place?”
Texas raised his hand again, and the bartender finally came over. “Two more, please.”
“Sure thing,” she said, turning back toward the bar.
“What the fuck?” Eros muttered, surprised Texas got served first.
“You didn’t tell her you wanted a drink, brother.”
“Nah, it’s you. The ladies take one look at you and wanna ride a cowboy.
“We could ask her if she wants to play cowboys and Indians later tonight,” Texas said with a wide grin. Even if he wasn’t interested in the brunette, he was always ready to help a brother out.
Sliding off his stool, Texas grabbed his beer and moved over to the pool tables in the back room, where he and Eros could talk without watching their backs. The two men took up a game, catching up while Texas kept one eye on the clock, careful not to miss his window to leave.
Eventually, he told Eros he had to head out, leaving him chatting with a woman.
With the place packed, slipping out the back door was easy. Texas made his way to his bike, grabbed his backpack, then melted between some trucks and disappeared down the street on foot.
A block down, Texas pulled out his phone and called for an Uber, pacing as he waited.
When the car arrived, he climbed in and soon was dropped off two blocks from the house he was headed for. As he approached, the sight of the garage set his blood boiling.
Moving toward the building, he circled around to the side and found the door unlocked. Shaking his head, he couldn’t believe Sunday had been crazy enough to come back here.
Suddenly, the neighbor’s security light flicked on, forcing Texas to hurry inside before he was seen.