Chapter 26
VANNA
“ W ell, this isn’t a good sign…” Dean mutters.
The moment I crack open the first storage box, I don’t even have to ask him what’s wrong. The musty, stale smell hits me like a punch in the nose, and I cough, waiving my hand in front of my face. I’m glad Ace is with Viking across the lot, playing on the swing set behind the Twisted Throttle.
“ Oh no…” I sigh, peering back at Dean standing closer to the front of the storage unit at his own box labeled “ Bar Decorations.”
He pulls out a strand of garland, only for pieces of it to crumble in his grip. “Yeah…looks like most of what we had isn’t making a comeback.” He drops the tangled mess of brittle plastic back into the box.
I remove the sheet of bubble wrap from mine, hoping to salvage something, and peer inside. What I imagine were once bright red and green ribbons and bows are now faded. I lift them out, and the tarnished ornaments beneath are a little chipped.
“Ew…” I say, wrinkling my nose at something at the bottom that looks suspiciously like mouse droppings.
“There’s shit in this one, too,” Dean says, “I guess three years was too long to leave all this in storage.”
“Keeping them in cardboard liquor and beer boxes was your first mistake.” I sigh, my excitement over experiencing the holiday season at the Twisted Throttle deflating.
This was supposed to be the year we finally brought Christmas back to the bar after Snowy’s passing.
I’ve been looking forward to this ever since Dean told me about it.
I have to suppress a sad smile even now, thinking back on everything he described, especially Viking’s Krampus incident, and how everyone dressed up.
At least to some extent. And how the townsfolk would bring their children to have pictures taken with biker Santa .
“Maybe this is a sign we should just let this tradition end with Snowy,” Dean says, folding the box closed.
“No.” I frown, standing. “We could get new decorations. Snowy would want you all to keep doing this for the community. Especially for the kids. If anything, this is a sign to start anew. I understand why you all stopped, but I also know how much this event means to everyone. You told me this wasn’t just a party.
It was something the whole community enjoyed and looked forward to.
Maybe this is just what the club needs to remind everyone you’re still here.
You still care. You’re still the Saviors MC. ”
I walk over to Dean, placing my hand on his arm.
“I know no one wanted to do this until now because it felt too soon, and then like you were moving on without him, but we can make it something Snowy would be proud of. We can give him his own place of honor and come up with something a little different, so it doesn’t feel like anyone is taking his place. ”
“Alright,” Dean agrees. “I’ll bring it to the table to see what everyone is comfortable with and ask Diesel to work it into the budget. You and Cherry are going to have to get a jump on replacing the decorations.”
“I’m on it, Prez!” I grin.
Dean smiles and shakes his head. “Pick up some plastic bins with airtight lids while you’re at it, so this doesn’t happen again.
” He taps a cardboard Jack Daniels box with his motorcycle boot.
I notice how worn in it is from shifting gears.
“And keep the receipts so I can give them to Diesel,” he adds, removing the storage key from his key ring before handing it to me. “You can leave the bins in here.”
“Yes, sir,” I tease. The Harley-Davidson shop a few towns over is still having its holiday sale, and there is a container store in a shopping mall right in the same area. It’s also been a while since Latisha and I had any time to meet up. I decide I’ll give her a call, too.
We step outside of the unit, and Dean drags the rolling door down to shut it for now. “I’ll have a prospect take all the ruined shit to the dump. In the meantime, I’ve got to head up to JoCo with Viking and he who shall not be named today.” Dean bends to kiss me. “I love you.”
“I love you, too. Ride safe.” I watch Dean head back into his shop before I cross the lot and make my way over to Ace and Viking.
The decorations might be ruined, but the tradition didn’t have to be. This year, the holiday spirit is coming back to the Twisted Throttle, and I can’t wait for Ace and me to be a part of it.
“ H ey man, thanks for working in another day for me on the schedule this week,” Derek says when I step into my shop. He’s got a bike up on the lift. An older Harley Davidson Street Glide in for drive belt maintenance as well as a repair on the shock absorbers.
“I wish I could put you back on full-time, believe me,” I tell him, just as my cellphone rings.
I already know who it is. Someone else I’ve been letting down.
“You’re a great mechanic. Hopefully, this coming year is the year we bounce back…
I’m gonna need you to lock up the shop tonight, too…
Give me a sec, I gotta take this.” I walk the short distance to my office and sit down at my desk before hitting the green icon. “What’s up, Slice?”
“I saw the news in Bermuda County last week. Another meth lab explosion.”
“Supposedly, it was the last of them.”
“ How fortunate for you .”
“Slice, don’t break my fuckin’ balls. I haven’t forgotten our promise to help you.”
“That’s good to hear.”
“I was gonna ride up today if that’s alright with you? We’ve got some intel on what might be a substantial location in Jocsan.” I still have to talk to him about patching in my brother. Might as well knock two things off my ever-growing to-do list.
“You know our doors are always open to the Saviors MC.”
“Alright. Let me round up my Sergeant at Arms, and we’ll head your way.”
After hanging up, I scroll to Legion’s number and shoot him a text:
Jokers. Be there. Two hours.
W hen Viking and I arrive at the Jokers’ clubhouse, we’re both surprised to see Legion’s bike already here. Viking dismounts and steps over to the murdered out Indian, bending to place the back of his hand near the engine.
“Still warm. He hasn’t been here long,” Viking says.
A prospect greets us at the door and leads us to the conference room where the Jokers’ hold Church. Legion is standing beside the table nearest Slice, who is seated at the head of it.
“Welcome back,” Slice nods to the empty seats at the end of the table, and Viking and I join him and his crew at the table.
“Where were you that you beat us here?” I ask Legion.
“Creek County, investigating additional leads,” he replies.
“I’m not concerned with Creek County right now,” Slice interrupts, glancing at Legion. “I am curious about what happened to your little party favor?”
“I honored your wish and permitted him to live… At least, under stringent conditions,” Legion says.
“I didn’t want him to expire in our territory. Isn’t letting him live risky?” Slice asks.
“Without risk, there is no reward.” Legion reaches into the inner pocket of his leather jacket and produces a road map of Jocsan County, then spreads it out across the table in front of Slice.
There’s a red circle drawn around a small area.
“This is the location of a house. Not their headquarters, but a substation currently storing quite a bit of product and probably cash. It’s a small ranch down a dirt road on a wooded lot.
I didn’t spot any industrial air filters or anything else that would indicate they cook here.
There were a number of bikes, however. I would expect to encounter a few members of their crew at any given time. ”
“Good. Let’s wipe it off the map,” Slice replies impatiently.
“I had an inkling you’d say that.” Legion takes a step back from the table while Slice continues to study the surrounding area marked.
“I would be remiss if I didn’t mention this move will most definitely force their hand.
There will be a response in the form of retribution…
If I were calling the shots, I might first recruit a few more like-minded MCs to your cause.
I’d build up a force one might hesitate to reckon with.
Then I’d go after his associates and allies, hard and simultaneously .
I’d make them question whether or not their ties were worth keeping…
Hell, I’d make them rue the day their paths ever crossed. ”
“Like you’ve done with us,” I mutter. “Made us your fucking wall of protection.”
Before Legion can strike back with another snarky reply, Slice speaks up again.
“This is my territory. That means I’m calling the shots.
I want to send a clear message that this shit will not be tolerated on any level within Jocsan County.
Now, I’ve invited you back here to formulate a plan we can all agree on. I didn’t have to extend that courtesy.”
Though Slice is hard eyeing me, it’s Legion’s cold eyes I feel boring into me. As much as I hate to agree with the demonic fuck, he’s right. But Jocsan County is beyond my jurisdiction, so I simply offer Slice a curt nod of compliance.
“Great. Now, let’s strategize this attack. Maximum damage without casualty of life.”
Legion expels a sigh laced with tension.
Despite his compliance with the Jokers’ wishes, he’s not as indifferent as he’s pretending to be.
“Giving up your Diamonds has given those hungry for your territory reason to believe there are lines you’re no longer willing to cross…
A soft blow will only solidify and embolden this idea, as well as the severity of how they respond. ”
“That’s their mistake. We don’t need fuckin’ Diamond patches to handle our shit,” Slice replies. “Sparing their lives might convey the message we simply want them out of our territory. That what they do beyond our borders is not our concern. We don’t want a full-blown war.”
Legion’s jaw ticks before he responds. “War is war. Perhaps it would be wise to initiate a conversation before poking the bear in the eye?”