Chapter 24 - Ghost #2
“Those fuckers took the weapons, and they took the truck, and us, but then they let us go. We’ve been walking, but it hasn’t been easy.
” He pauses and coughs. “They gave us a good beating. It’s taken us an age to get this far.
But there’s a gas station here, and the old-timer running it has let us use his phone. Can you come get us, or send someone?”
It could be a trap, but I’m not about to leave them stranded and injured.
“Wait there.”
I hang up and say nothing else. “Follow me,” I order the two scouts, Bruce and Cash.
If there are any Iron Revenants MC at the gas station, they won’t expect me in a truck, and it will give me the chance to do a drive-by and make sure the place isn’t filled with bikers.
When we get near, I gesture with my arm out of the window for the bikes to hang back, and then I drive into the gas station and around the parking lot, before driving back onto the road. I keep going a further five minutes to make sure there are no bikes parked nearby waiting to ambush us.
It looks clear, so I circle back around and head to the gas station.
Once there, I park the truck and jog inside.
There, sitting on the floor, drinking sodas through a straw, and damn, from the state of their faces that’s the only way they’re going to be getting nutrients for the foreseeable future, are our two men.
Both have swollen, blackened eyes and split lips.
Their shirts are spattered with blood which has turned brown as it’s dry.
“Ghost,” Reynolds croaks when he sees me. “Thanks for coming, man. They took all our shit.”
“It’s okay,” I say, even though it isn’t. “I brought the truck.”
He nods. “Good.”
He struggles to stand and fails, falling back down with a groan of pain.
“Give me one second,” I tell him.
I turn my back on them and call Bruce and Cash from my cell, telling them to come and give me a hand.
I ask the guy behind the counter if he has some meds that can help with their pain, and he gives me some Tylenol.
I give them to the two men and let them sit back to give the rudimentary meds some time to kick in.
When the two bikers arrive, we set to work getting them in the truck.
It’s another fifteen minutes before we have both injured men laid out in the back of the truck and covered.
No wonder it took them so long to get where they did.
They are in so much pain, every movement hurts.
I give the old-timer who runs the place a hundred dollars for his help, and then I drive back to the compound, taking real care not to jolt the men when I go over any bumps, which feels fucking impossible on these roads.
It makes the journey take twice as long as usual and drags the night into the next day, as the sun peeks out of the early morning haze and the birds wake up.
By the time we arrive, it’s past six in the morning, and the place is coming to life. Most of the members are fast asleep, many won’t be awake until much later, but there are a couple of ol’ ladies around as some of them cook breakfast for the men, and a few sweetbutts sneaking out of rooms.
Heads turn as I drive through the compound, Bruce and Cash following on the bikes.
I wonder how much word has gotten around about the missing shipment.
Are people feeling on edge about the Iron Revenants’ audacity to pull this shit on us?
They’ve always been made up of a bunch of pricks who’ll happily start a fight if we somehow end up at the same event and beer is involved, but to do this…
? I don’t know. Something doesn’t feel right.
Rook is already up and working on his bike outside the dorms. He must have stayed over in one of the rooms the previous night, though he has a place in town that he shares with a couple of guys his age who aren’t MC members.
I wonder if the reason he stayed has something to do with our new female guest.
Parking the truck outside my house, I pull back the tarpaulin, and Bruce and Cash help me get the men up and out of the bed of the truck. I open the front door and tell them to take the men inside and make them comfortable.
The early morning sunshine warms the top of my head as I stand out on my porch and make some calls.
We’re lucky because Shelley is a senior nurse, and she’s skilled at dressing wounds and assessing whether or not people need further medical care. I call her now, apologizing for the early hour, and ask her to come to my place.
Then I message Jack. If he’s asleep, I don’t want to wake him as, now we have the men back, it’s not urgent, but he reads the text almost immediately.
I’d bet he’s been up most of the night, waiting to hear any news.
Across the yard, the door to Camile’s house opens, and she pokes her head out. Her eyes are bleary and her hair is mussed up.
“What’s going on?” she asks.
“Nothing,” I say. “Go back to bed.”
Shelley, the ol’ lady I called, comes running toward the houses, her big breasts bouncing in the short nightdress she’s not changed out of yet. She’s got sheepskin booties on her feet, and a small first aid kit in her right hand.
Camile gives her a small smile of recognition as Shelley approaches, then her gaze drops down to the first aid kit, and she makes a small sound in the back of her throat.
“Camile,” I snap. “Go back inside. This doesn’t concern you.”
Her face contorts with a flash of pain, but I ignore it.
I can’t be babysitting her when I have important shit to do for the club.
And when I tell Jack that Rook was at her place for ages, hugging it out with her on the doorstep—because no way am I letting on about the cameras—he’s going to be pissed, too.
Rook is a good kid, but my God, he needs to stay away from Camile, as much as my newly discovered kink might wish otherwise.
With a heavy sigh, I turn to deal with the men and the unfolding situation between our two clubs.