Chapter 41
KNOX
The clubhouse always feels different when we’re headed out to our own version of war.
Emotionally, there’s a heady thirst for the raw and primal violence of it, balanced with a true appreciation for what we’re risking, and why we’re risking it.
Practically, it’s the sound of boots on the ground, the metallic click of weapons being checked and loaded and checked again, and the occasional calling out of orders.
I’ve seen my brothers ready themselves for a hundred different kinds of trouble.
And this is no different,
At least, to all of them it isn’t.
But to me…this is how I remove any further damage to my club and Maren.
So, this…it’s everything.
Just as I’m looking for Ridge to see how he wants the bikes to line up on the road, I see her. Maren, in the middle of my clubhouse, which is heaving with bikers. Her hair is up in a ponytail, and gold hoops hang from her ears.
I don’t know which fucking prospect just let her walk in and wander up the fucking stairs without telling me she was here, but I’m going to kill him when tonight is over.
“Farewell blowjob, sweetheart?” Mallow asks as she walks by.
“Watch how you talk to my soon-to-be voted-on old lady,” I say as I make my way to her.
“Fuck, Knox,” Mallow says. “Sorry, brother. Didn’t see a property patch.”
Maren turns with a wrinkle across the bridge of her nose and gestures up and down her body. “This is all property of me. Which is a good life lesson for men with grabby hands.”
Mallow shrugs. “In fairness, I was suggesting you were the one doing the grabbing.”
I pull Maren to me and lead her to a quiet corner. “What are you doing here?” I ask.
She shrugs sheepishly. “I was on my way home from the shop. I stayed late because I have to see the accountant tomorrow. And I knew you weren’t leaving until late so I… I don’t know…I guess I wanted to see you off or something. Kiss you before you leave and all that.”
Something tugs inside me. A feeling of warmth that she wanted to see me.
“Come here,” I say, pulling her to me and brushing her lips with mine as I sear the feel of her, the curves of her, to memory.
I’ve been around a long time, been in a lot of these fights.
So far, I’ve barely had an injury of any kind, of note, but I know there’s always a first time.
Vandal was a violent reminder of that.
“Get a room, Prez,” Sunny shouts.
“You okay if I hug your woman, Knox?” Jackal asks. And I see the surprise in Maren’s face when she turns and sees him.
“If she agrees, go for it,” I say.
Jackal hugs Maren. “Your loyalty means a lot, Maren. You doing okay?”
“The last few weeks have been a journey,” she says, then glances over his shoulder for a moment and looks my way with that smile she saves for only me. “With some highly unexpected moments.”
“Heard about you and Prez. Congrats.”
“Thank you. Knox told me about you, Shade, and Isla. Hope the three of you will come down next time and we can hang out.”
“I’d like that,” Jackal says. “I owe you. Don’t ever hesitate to ask.”
Maren grins as he walks away, but I try to be serious with her, for a moment. “Happy as I am to see you, sweetheart, you shouldn’t have come here,” I say. “Not with so many men about. Some who don’t have the same kind of manners I do.”
Maren snorts at that. “You don’t have manners.”
I smile because she needs me to. “That may be true, but some of these men have less.”
She buries her forehead against my chest, and we stand, for a moment. She’s wearing a long white skirt that floats around her ankles and a navy tank top that shows off the smooth skin of her shoulders and hugs the curve of her tits.
In other words, she looks good enough to eat.
“Be safe tonight,” she says, before she looks up at me.
“I will.”
“I’m serious, Knox. We only just found each other. Even though I’ve known who you are my whole life, you’ve only just become mine. This can’t be the only time we get together.”
I have a flash of practicality—I don’t even have a will.
“I’m doing this to ensure it isn’t. Go back home, to our house. Stay safe. Keep the prospects with you.”
“I will,” she says. “This is one of those times you really mean it, isn’t it?”
I nod. “It is. Until I call you, you’ve got eyes on you. Everywhere. If there is a problem, know that I’ll only send Ridge or Sunny to come get you if you have to move. I figure you know those two best.”
She blows out a breath. “Okay. Make me proud tonight.”
I’ll hold those four words, the softly spoken command, close tonight. “I will.”
“Good. And when you come back, I’m assuming there will be a big drink fest. So, make sure you recall those prospects watching me, to let them join in the fun, because there will be no further need for them.”
I salute her. “Yes, ma’am. But now, I need to get you out of here because we need to go, and your truck is probably blocking Ridge from lining the bikes up outside.”
“Oh. Shit. Sorry. I’ll go move it,” she says, and turns to move to her truck.
But I reach for her hand and tug her to me. “One last kiss for luck.”
I’m not sure I’ve really ever had someone send me off to anything. But with Maren’s request to do her proud and the feel of her mouth pressed to mine, I feel about ten feet tall.
I lead her by the hand to her truck, dealing with the whoops and whistles of the various men as we walk by. Once she’s tucked in her truck, I slam the door. “I’m coming back to you, sweetheart.”
“Good,” she says. “Because I’ll be waiting.”
It takes another twenty minutes to get the bikes lined up in a way that respects rank, but keeps teams that will be working together close in formation so it’s easy enough for them to peel away when we reach our destination.
The crescendo of nearly fifty bike engines is awe inspiring.
I loaned Jackal one of mine. Ridge loaned Shade one of his.
But there is more to it than the gutsy roar of so many Harleys as we ride from the west coast of Florida to the east coast. I swallow deeply that all of these men have come for me and my club.
High ranking officers who have put their lives on hold at home to come put them on the line for me.
I’m not sure when I became the luckiest fucker on earth, but I feel it right here and now.
It’s impossible for our convoy to move quietly this late at night. So, we don’t try to. The throaty roar tears through the swamp roads. Headlights cut through the thick darkness as we ride tight and disciplined.
I lead.
North is to my left. Steady and assured.
Ridge and Havoc ride behind us.
Behind them, chapters blend until the end of the convoy, where two vans follow with weaponry and medical equipment courtesy of Reaper. And that’s the thing about this life. When it counts, when it really matters, when who we are is on the line, we pull together and act as one.
Blood and loyalty.
It takes a little over ninety minutes to get there as we ignore speed limits.
Adrenaline starts to fizz through my veins the closer we get. I’ve always felt immortal on rides with my brothers, and maybe it’s because Maren is at home waiting for me, but this time, I also feel…well, human.
Mortal.
Which is why I made a choice to put a tactical vest under my shirt. It’s not something I normally do. Haven’t even told anyone I’ve done it. But if I’m expecting Maren to adapt, maybe I should too, and do whatever I can to ensure I make it home to her.
Groups begin to peel off, some attacking power lines to bring darkness, some heading to the north end of the dock, some to the south.
When we finally cut our bikes on a deserted side road off the main route to the dock, the silence is almost violent.
“For Vandal,” I say to North, bumping my fist to his.
“Vandal,” he replies.
We’d debated hijacking the truck once it was loaded up. It was certainly less risky than what we’re about to do. But there was a general consensus that we needed Alvarez to know it was us. To see the force we could deliver. To feel the pain we could bring to his men.
So, we’d voted for dominance.
Sticking to the shadows of the occasional building on the mostly derelict road, we make our way to the dock.
Floodlights cut harshly across the yard, illuminating a spread of corrugated shipping containers. A handful of men mill about, looking out over the water.
“They’re waiting for the boat,” Sunny whispers.
“Thank you, Captain Obvious,” Havoc says before chuckling.
Sunny nudges him so hard, Havoc lands on his ass. Some might wonder why we behave like this in these kinds of moments. The truth is, it’s how we get through them. How we face them. Because humor is best served before looking death in the eye.
North puts down his binoculars. “Perimeter lights on the south side. The heaviest is by that outbuilding.”
I take his binoculars and look. The men look uniformed. All in black. With slick-looking weapons. There may be more of us than there are of them, but I wonder if they are all ex-military with stronger tactical skills.
“Halo,” I hiss at the New Jersey road captain. “You think they’re military?”
He nods. “The patrols are organized, on a timed routine. They march in sync. Not planned, but likely habit.”
Shade nods. “Was thinking the same.”
The truck comes through the gates just as we’re about to move.
It’s a big rig, its headlights cutting through the dark.
And I’m glad to see it for two reasons. The first, it’s proof that there’s a big delivery of something coming in, given the size of the truck.
And second, the way the driver’s reversed into the gate means he’s blocking it as an exit.
“If we can carry the weapons out to the two vans,” I say, “it’ll take them a minute to get the rig out of the way before any of the vehicles inside can get underway to follow us.”
“That’s not enough time,” North says. “Unless the van comes down to meet us all.”
And there aren’t a lot of roads out of here that lead us back to our side of the peninsula, so every second will count.
“Hey, honey,” Cat says.