Chapter 2 Crypt #2
Grim turned toward him. “I don’t think this involves you, mister. We can handle it.”
Before the guy could answer, the kid began yelling again.
“You’re a bunch of smelly dirtbags! My dad says guys like you think you’re badasses, but he can take you any day.”
The fuck?
“I hate to ask, but can I see who just said that? I think we’ve met.”
Grim and Mammoth moved, exposing the father and his rude son. The dad looked ready to shit himself from fear.
“I see your son is causing trouble again and got you both in trouble. You probably know this already, but in case you don’t, messing with an MC is the fastest way to get your ass kicked or killed.
I told you to discipline your demonic spawn, but you ignored me.
I hope you have a decent insurance policy for your wife.
With her next husband, maybe they can raise their kids to be respectful.
Karma is a bitch, ain’t she?” The guy in the black leather snickered.
Wait. He met them before now.
“Nobody asked for your opinion,” the boy mouthed off.
The dad slapped his hand over his kid’s mouth. Despite him squirming and trying to rip it off, it stayed there.
Grim ticked his chin toward the guy in black leather. “How do you know these two? Are you friends?”
“Oh, hell, no. I’m not their friend. I met these two on the flight here.
This little demon annoyed people, was rude, and kept kicking the back of an elderly man’s seat.
When I made his parents take out their earbuds to deal with him, his dad basically said he wouldn’t take advice from someone like me, and then didn’t say a word to his son.
So, I let him feel how it felt to be annoyed,” he explained.
The dad scowled at the reminder. His son glared at us all like we were garbage.
“How did you annoy him?” Rael asked, getting closer to the dad, who looked spooked by the face paint.
The guy in the black leather vest described how he messed with the dad and his chair for the remainder of the flight.
Of course, we found that funny. The dad deserved it.
“Well, since you shared your run-in with us, let us tell you why we’re dealing with them.
This little punk ran right through us. He bumped into and shoved several of us as he demanded we get out of his damn way.
” Grim shook his head. “I’m not used to kids acting that way.
None of ours do.” He shot the dad a glare.
“Saw this guy hurrying over, but he didn’t bother to say sorry or excuse me.
He just grabbed his kid’s arm and tried to walk off with him.
We decided it was an opportunity to teach both of them some manners. ”
Mammoth folded his arms over his chest and took a step closer to the pair. I had to admit, he looked scary as fuck with arms as big and round as tree limbs and all his ink.
“I get why you’d want to, but I’m afraid they’re beyond help.
They’ll do this until one day they pay dearly for it.
You can’t change the stupidity in some people.
It’s a pity the boy is growing up to be worse than his parents.
” The guy in black leather briefly cut his gaze to the father.
“God forbid he ever procreates. Sorry for disturbing you. I’ll leave you to it.
Be safe riding and keep the rubber side down,” he added.
When he turned to walk away, Grim halted him.
“Wait. Why don’t you hang around for a few minutes?
We’re done with these two. Can’t exactly beat this jackass with so many witnesses around.
And though the boy needs an ass whoopin’, that’s his parents’ job.
Have a drink with us. Unless you’re meeting someone,” Grim offered.
“Sure. I can have a drink. I do need to meet my friend in a bit, but I’ve got time.”
“Good.” He turned to the father and son.
“As for the two of you, you should thank God that we didn’t run into you elsewhere.
Mister, if we meet again, you’d better have changed your attitude and taught your kid manners.
He’s gonna live a hard life if you don’t.
As for you, you’ve got to have had your ass beaten a lot.
It should’ve set you straight. Stop telling your kid you can whoop people’s asses.
You’re a pussy, and you know it. Next time, someone is gonna prove it. ”
“Yeah, you’re the kind I like to meet in the dark and take my time with,” Rael sneered before he gave him a spooky grin.
“I like to play with weasel dicks like you, too,” Mammoth added, dropping his arms and stepping forward.
There was an audible squeal from the dad. He turned a sickly pale color, and his eyes grew so round that I thought they might pop outta the sockets. His mouth opened, but no other sound came out.
His son still struggled to get loose, but the father seemed to regain what little sense he had. Wrestling with the child, he dragged his son off so fast his sneakers kicked up dust behind them. Never saw anything quite like that. The father never turned his back on us.
We stood there watching until they disappeared from sight. Once they left, none of us could hold back our laughter.
We grabbed a few beers afterward. Grim insisted on buying one for the guy in black leather.
“What’s your name, stranger?” Mammoth asked.
“It’s Cowboy. I can see all of your names. Thank God for cuts. Where’s Tonopah at?”
“Tonopah is about two hundred miles from here. We’re almost smack in the middle between Vegas and Reno,” Mammoth explained.
Rael ticked his chin toward Cowboy. “You seem to know some biker lingo. I doubt your family named you Cowboy. Is that a nickname? You wouldn’t happen to be in a club, would you?” Rael’s eyes narrowed, looking at him as the Sergeant-at-Arms and a bit wary.
“No, my parents didn’t name me that,” Cowboy answered carefully. “I should know a lot about bikers since I am one, as you guessed. It’s not a local club, hence the reason I’m not wearing my colors. I don’t step on other clubs’ toes or mess with their territories.”
Ah, that made sense. I could tell the others appreciated it.
“What brings you to the rodeo? You said you’re meeting a friend later. Is he from your club, too?” Grim asked.
I didn’t blame him for wanting to learn all we could about Cowboy. Trust was earned. He should know that.
“No, he’s an old rodeo buddy. He’s always here at the finals. It’s been a few years since I’ve seen him,” Cowboy admitted.
“He works at the rodeo?” I asked, curious. “Or is he one of the contenders?”
“Actually, he’s the veterinarian for the event. He’s never ridden, but he sure fixed up our horses and cattle if he could.”
“Goddamn! I knew I recognized you! You’re Zander Brashears, the former World Bull Riding Champion. I remember watching you ride and win the title.”
This was the first time Patriot spoke. He mostly looked menacing before now, taking in all the conversation and information like he was cataloging it for later use.
His name fit his appearance, since I could see military-themed ink on his skin and a bandana wrapped around his head that looked like an American flag. I bet he was a veteran Marine.
“Yeah, that would be me, but these days I go by Cowboy.”
“I’ve got to shake your hand. Brothers, this guy is a legend. That ride was one of the best I’ve ever seen. And then you retired right after. You were so young,” Patriot mused.
Hannibal looked eager to shake his hand, too.
“Thanks. It was a helluva ride,” Cowboy informed us.
“When it was over, I hurt so fucking bad I went back to the doctor who healed me up the year before after being trampled by that same bull. Doc told me one more hard fall or stomping, and I’d be paralyzed.
I decided I’d rather not do that, so I retired.
It wasn’t long after that shocking news that I met a guy who is now a club brother. He sponsored me.”
Damn. He’d been through a lot. I couldn’t imagine the toll on his body.
“What’s the name of your club? You said you’re not from around here. Where did you ride in from?” Mammoth didn’t shy away from questions.
Grim didn’t stop him either.
“I live in St. Augustine, Florida. I’m part of the Horseman of Wrath MC. My president is Diablo.”
“Horseman of Wrath, hmmm.” Grim seemed to be thinking over the name. “Sounds familiar. So does Diablo, but I might be wrong. We have Bastard chapters all over. You have time for another beer? We’d like to hear more and tell you about our club.”
As they walked up to the stand to buy another, my focus switched to Hannibal. He was talking on the phone. His voice, though low, sounded urgent.
Something in my gut twisted. I couldn’t shake the feeling of danger or the need to follow him when he stepped away from the rest of the club. Maybe it wasn’t right to violate his privacy, but I had to know what was happening, especially when he started to run toward the lines at the entrance.
It could have been related to the club, but I didn’t think he’d go alone unless it was an emergency. That thought spurred me to follow. I skidded to a halt only ten feet from Hannibal as he came to an abrupt stop.
And right there, less than ten feet away, stood the woman I’d been dreaming and thinking about for three long years.
It was her. Rachel.
My Rachel.
This time. . . I wasn’t letting her get away. And I didn’t care if her father liked it or not.