Chapter One
A loud whistle pierced Brant "Trip" Rowe's ear. He turned in front of Speeder's house and gazed across the open area between the clubhouse and Appleway Road.
Twenty years ago, Avery Falls was a ghost town before Avery Falls Motorcycle Club purchased the rocky area in the Bitterroot Mountains and filled the abandoned homes with members.
Ten years later, the town had a surplus grocery store, a bar, a diner, a small school, and created an outdoor recreational hub for anyone wanting to enjoy the St. Joe River, and boasted about having the only gas station within twenty-five miles.
One of the locals who was a clerk at the store, Clara, waved her hand above her head. He raised his arm in greeting. Lately, Clara had sought all the bikers' attention.
She motioned him to join her at the clubhouse. He shook his head. Right now, he had something more important to do.
Stepping to the door of the ranch-style house, he knocked on the door and let himself in. Doors and privacy meant nothing to the members.
"Leave me alone," screamed Trina from the back of the house.
Sidestepping around the couch, Trip plunked down and picked up the television remote, flipping through channels.
Ever since the government car pulled into Avery Falls two weeks ago and announced to Speeder, he was a father to a fifteen-year-old girl, from a woman he couldn't even remember, his friend's home life had gone from quiet to hostile.
"Two hours a day. That's all you'll have to work," said Speeder.
"If you can't afford to have me living here, send me away. I rather live in foster care than with you." A door slammed deeper in the house.
Several minutes later, Speeder walked into the living room, rubbing his hand over his whiskered face, and spotted him.
He tossed the remote beside him and latched his hands behind his head, glad it wasn't him who'd had an offspring thrust onto him.
"How the hell am I supposed to get any work done when every minute of my fucking day is tied up watching Trina?" Speeder walked into the kitchen and returned with two beer cans.
Trip took the offered drink and popped the top. "There's no reason you need to watch her all the time. Other kids her age run wild around here."
"That's exactly why I need someone to watch her while I work."
Speeder would have to deal with the changes in his life on his own. "I came by to see if you want me to take your place tonight."
"Fuck," muttered Speeder, plopping onto the other end of the couch. "Yeah, if you can. I need to get a handle on my home life before I give her any freedom."
Standing, Trip stepped toward the door. "Not a problem."
"Thanks, man."
He looked over his shoulder. "You're acting strange."
"It's Trina." Speeder met his gaze. "I don't know what to do."
"Sort your shit. Your girl will survive."
Speeder huffed as if he refused to believe his life would straighten out, given some time. Trip walked outside and inhaled deeply. He'd looked forward to staying home and kicking back tonight.
Knowing he'd need to head out now if he planned to get back at a decent hour, he skipped going into the clubhouse and headed to his Harley.
He pulled out his cell phone—halfway useless in a mountain town, except for seeing what time it was.
Five minutes after seven. Everything closed at seven o'clock until May twentieth when some of the accommodations stayed open until nine o'clock.
Until then, he enjoyed the quieter lifestyle without all the tourists.
Starting his bike, he pulled away from the clubhouse, headed toward the main road. Following the river, where each business lined the other side of the road, he usually finished his routine in a half hour if people left him alone.
Between the MC members, they made sure all profits from every business were collected at the end of the day and brought back to the clubhouse. Keenan, the treasurer of Avery Falls Motorcycle Club, would then do his job and have cash bags ready for pick up tomorrow morning for another day.
He pulled in front of the gas station and parked. Looking around, he lifted his chin at Hank across the street, pulling the chain across the entrance to the RV park. There were only three rigs lined up against the river.
After the spring melt, the snowmobilers had left the area. The main rush of tourists wouldn't get here for two more weeks. He gazed over at the motorhomes. The visitors were probably travelers who would head out in the morning and go on to their next destination.
He opened the front door, setting off the bell hanging from the inside handle.
"How'd I get lucky enough to have you swing by tonight?" Sharon eyed him. "I thought Speeder was picking up the pouch."
"He's busy at home." He leaned over the counter and reached down below, and snatched the pouch off the shelf. By the weight of the bag, the gas station had a good day.
"How's he doing with his daughter?"
Sharon liked to talk. If he stayed around and answered all her questions, it'd take him longer to get done with business. Then, tomorrow, he'd hear three different versions of the conversation—all wrong.
As far as he was concerned, Speeder's business was his own. He wasn't one to talk about others or himself.
"You can ask him tomorrow." He stuffed the bag behind his belt and pushed through the doors.
It was easy for those living in Avery Falls to think they had a say in what went down, even with Avery Falls Motorcycle Club running the town. It was a constant problem that took up a lot of free time for the members, pacifying everyone.
Johnny rode in on his motorcycle and stopped at the gas pump.
His MC brother slid the card each member carried through the slot and started the pump.
While the rest of those living or visiting Avery Falls had to do business during the hours each business was open, the members had access to the things they needed twenty-four/seven.
Trip raised his leg and sat on his Harley. "Heading out?"
"Yep." Johnny glanced to the east. "I'll be ghosting until the sun comes up."
He lifted his chin. "See you on the flipside."
Each night, two members rode up to the cave. The old collapsed train tunnel took two years to blow through and now contained a hidden room used strictly for club business.
It was near impossible for outsiders to stumble into and discover the activities inside the cave. Business that Avery Falls Motorcycle Club hid carefully behind a recreational hotspot. Even the locals gave them minimal problems because they kept the population down to a manageable number.
He crossed the two-lane road and rode around the chain strung across the entrance, blocking off the RV park until six o'clock in the morning.
Hank stood from the sitting log by the lit campfire, holding the cash pouch in his hand.
Without getting off the motorcycle, Trip rolled by him and snagged the package.
"Thanks, brother." He held up his hand as he one-handedly throttled the Harley, heading toward the exit.
He slipped the pouch into the inside pocket of his vest and then rode around the closed gate.
Guests were free to leave the property on foot or off-road vehicles if they chose, but the tight curfew cut down on people going where they shouldn't be in the dark.
There were too many trails and dangerous roads woven through the mountain ranges, and the last thing the club wanted to do was go out on a search and rescue looking for someone without the brains to survive in the wilderness.
Not to mention, visitors thought the bears, moose, and wolves were...cute.
He rode east, stopping at the store. Going inside, he took J.J.'s kiss as she greeted him.
"I've missed you." She wound her arms around his neck. "Are you going to be at the clubhouse tonight?"
As she talked, she pressed her firm breasts against the front of his leather vest. "I plan on going home and catching up on my sleep."
"But, I want to see you."
"Get in line."
She pouted. "You're in a mood."
"Too tired to do much." He slipped out of her arms. "Bag?"
She grabbed the pouch off the top of the register, and her gaze softened. "Go home, Trip. Get some rest. I'll see you next time."
"Plan to." He swung through the door and stepped outside.
J.J. was a good woman. He'd spent time with her, seeking comfort. Neither one of them had any desire for anything more.
Taking the bags off him, he transferred everything to the duffle on the back of his Harley and took off to make the round to check the doors at the school, post office, and public restrooms. He ended the night at the diner, where Steven walked out the back door and tossed him the money pouch.
"Thanks." He fisted the cash.
Steven pulled out a pack of cigarettes and stuck a smoke behind his ear. "Need dinner?"
"I'm good." He looked around the area. "Things are picking up early this season."
"I've seen a few faces I haven't seen before." Steven's brows lowered. "Are you meeting with Prez tonight?"
"Wasn't planning on it." All he had to do was drop off the cash with Keegan. "Problem?"
Steven walked closer. "There's a woman with two kids inside. She's asking a lot of questions."
"What about?"
"The house Prez put the two newest members in."
"The one on the knoll?" He took his hands off the handlebar. "No one knows about that place."
"She does." Steven looked behind him at the building before facing Trip again. "About ten minutes into eating, she gave Elena an address and asked if she knew how to get there. She had trouble getting Google to work on her cell phone."
He scoffed. There wasn't much use for the internet here.
Everything went through the cell towers, and even they weren't reliable.
That's not to say he was clueless about Google maps, but so far, the closest they'd come to Avery Falls was Federal, over Moon Pass, about thirty-six miles over a dirt road.
"Remind the waitresses they're not to share any information beyond the areas where tourists can go," he said.
Steven's mouth tightened. Trip leaned back, sensing something else going on.