Chapter 1 - Finn
FINN
I hammered down on the throttle, feeling my bike punch forward. Mitch, my enforcer, flanked my left side with the other Guardians in single file behind on my command.
Vengeance was running a highlight reel in my mind as my bike responded, providing the speed I craved.
My eyes were laser-focused like an owl's in the night. All I could hear was the thunder of bikes on the open road.
One of the Devils of Destruction members tried to crunch out Axle. He met the challenge, bumping the rider to the side of the road. The Devil's bike slid out from under him—I caught a glimpse of metal grinding against asphalt in my side mirror.
My mind stayed focused on the main lead of the pack. The one who put my cousin Jessica in a coma. Ice ran through my veins. I wanted to end this fucker's life. He had some yards on me, but I was gaining. Two other Devils rode up ahead, protecting him.
The cool night air was like a ghost's breath across my face. I was banking on my Harley giving me enough thrust to catch the motherfuckers. The bastards had found the hiding spot for our artillery. I cursed under my breath. Pops, the club president, was going to have a fit.
The tar road was clear as my high beams hit the chrome of the perpetrators ahead. I had two in my sights. I was strapped, and if I got in range I planned to take them out. Tonight, I wanted blood.
Hawk, my road captain, squeezed off a shot to my left. It must not have hit—the riders kept moving at pace along the highway. They were edging away. I grimaced and waved my heavily tattooed arm to the crew in a forward motion.
I joined Hawk in one last shot, watching one of the Devils dodge the bullet by maneuvering his bike to the side. I clenched my jaw. Fuck!
Taking the shot had slowed me down. I shook my head as I held my hand high with my palm out.
It was the stop signal. There was a long stretch of dark road ahead and we weren't gaining.
We were losing valuable speed and time. Blood pulsed through my body, flooding my eardrums. The kill shot wasn't happening tonight.
Nobody was on the road except us. I let them ride off into the night, disappointed. I eased my bike to low speed and the rest of the crew followed suit. We brought our bikes to a stop on the side of the road, keeping an eye out for rattlesnakes, which were pretty common out here at night.
"Motherfuckers!" Hawk screamed, veins standing out on his neck with his rage.
"I second that," I growled. "Let's hit the clubhouse. We need to work out a plan." I led the boys back out onto the road in the pitch darkness, fuming.
Luckily, the Devils hadn't been able to steal any goods. We had a pretty solid alarm system, but not solid enough to stop them from trying.
We parked up at The Old Moose lodge with a new mission on our minds. Given the short notice, I only had five of the crew with me. This was an emergency meeting, so as soon as I parked I hit up the whole crew.
Church meeting. Emergency. Now.
I jangled the keys to the clubhouse, which was hidden off the road. Didn't look like much when you saw it. Like a bear cave in the woods. Only us Guardians of Mayhem knew what it contained. I punched in the code and ushered the crew inside.
I heard the low rumbles of more bikes pulling up to join the meeting. My heart was still thumping in my chest.
I knew the cops would be on our ass for the downtown chase. You couldn't have missed it. Somebody would have called it in. I raked a hand through my hair in frustration.
"That shit was crazy. How the hell did they find out?" Hank, one of the younger patches, called out. He was a good rider and an asset to the team.
"Your guess is as good as mine, but I tell you what... heads are going to roll. Let's wait for Pops. I need his go-ahead."
James, with his dark features, arched a brow at me. "Dude, you know Pops isn't going to approve a hit right now."
I set my jaw. "Let's wait and see."
I led the crew through the dank darkness of the lodge to another keypad, punching in a second set of numbers.
I flicked on the light to a fully functional, dimly lit basement with a bar, tables, a small stage, pool table, and a set of stairs.
I walked with a quick stride to the back stairs.
Right in the middle of the room was our dark oak table where we held the meetings.
The logo of skull and machine guns was expertly carved into our souls and the wood.
Pops Lennox, a crafty and deceptive man, was already inside, his charcoal eyes staring back at us. "Sit. We don't have much time," he urged.
I angled my large, heavily muscled body into the seat closest to him.
"So it seems we got a problem," he said smoothly, his eyebrows pulling together in a frown. His face was weathered by time, and the wrinkles etched on his face had a story all their own. The creases near his mouth were held in a tight line.
"These pieces of shit hit the warehouse, Pops. I say we strike, get the team together. Hit them tonight," I raged.
Pops waved his wrinkled hand over the table. "No, that's not what we're gonna do. We're going to wait and strike when they least expect. It's too hot right now. The cops will be on your ass."
The folds of Pops's eyelids made his face look somber. He'd been in the game a long time. He'd been there for me when the founder, my father, died. Another reason for the anger torching my soul. I was angry about his death, but I kept a vow at his grave to uphold the family name.
Axle rubbed a hand over his bald head as he chimed in. "I told you, Finn, we need to cool it."
I gave him a warning glance, crunching my knuckles together. "I'm aware. I'm just pissed. What's the game plan, Pops?"
The door opened as Charlie, the vice president, and Hoagie walked in. "Boys, must be serious. We haven't called a church meeting in a minute now. Who's got beef?" Hoagie asked.
"Who do you think? The fucking Devils. I don't know who that new president is over there, but he's barking up the wrong tree," Pops said smoothly.
Hoagie tapped Pops on the back and sat down in the empty seat on his other side. "Those sons of bitches. They’re disorganized. They can't touch us. Let's hit 'em where it hurts." The crew at the table erupted in unanimous revelry.
I stroked my beard and adjusted the rings on my fingers. "Smart, Hoagie. You're right. They're no match for us."
Pops leaned back in his chair, cool, calm, and collected, with his hands outstretched. The overhead light focused on him. "So do we all agree to call off the dogs for a minute? Let's let them trip themselves up, okie dokie?"
We all nodded in unison. "Let's go. We need to get out of here and scatter," I warned. "Hawk, leave your gun in the club safe. We walk out unarmed, okay?"
I watched the corners of Hawk's mouth lift. "If I hadda squeezed off that shot earlier, I would've got him."
"Well, one of them is lying on the grass with the rattlesnakes.
Take him a while to recover," I snickered.
We dropped our weapons in the safe, and I made sure I was the last man out as we all bailed.
I locked everything up and we stepped out into a collection of police cars.
I heard the whoop of the siren as a light flashed into my face, making me squint.
Covering up my uneasy feeling, I stalked arrogantly up to the young cop in front of me.
"Can I help you, Officer?"
He fingered the black baton on his hip, nervously looking around to the two other police officers with him, a woman and an older gentleman with salt and pepper hair.
If I wanted to take all three of them I could.
Instead, I crossed my beefy arms, my feet wide as my brothers arranged themselves behind me.
"Yes, you can. What do you know about a high-speed motorcycle chase on the I-40 twenty minutes ago? You wouldn't know anything about that would you, Finn?"
I let out a hoarse laugh as I scanned the female police officer, giving her a nod and a wink. "How you doin' tonight?" I looked her up and down.
She coughed uncomfortably and shifted her weight from foot to foot as the crew behind me laughed. The young cop in front of me turned beet red.
"Don't address her. Address me. What the hell is going on?" Spit flew from his lips.
"Jeez, relax. And why can't I speak to the lady? She's a cop too. Isn't that discrimination?" Hawk bantered in a playful tone.
"Shut up," the young officer said through gritted teeth. I dropped my arms, smirking at him in the light from the two police cars.
He gestured to me. "That's it, Finn, you're coming with me for disorderly conduct."
In a mock gasp, I looked at the weedy officer, drawing closer to check his badge. "Officer Dwayne Peters. Hmm. That's a bullshit charge and you know it," I said in a dangerously low voice.
"If none of you want to cooperate, then he's coming with me to the station." All of the others stood firm and watched Officer Peters as he pulled the cuffs out.
"Finn, put your hands behind your back now. Don't make me use force." I snickered as I raised my heavy eyebrows in jest at the other fellas. They laughed back. I knew what this was. A cockfest. This guy was feeling himself.
The female cop grabbed my bicep to guide me to the car. "Hey, little lady, you can touch me anytime you want." She balked, but I swear I saw a smile rise on her pretty lips.
Fucking cops.