Chapter 6
Fuse
We were in church for our regular weekly meeting. We’d made it through old business, new business, and were brainstorming how these favors we’d agreed to were going to play out.
Storm explained, “Best case scenario is Viper just wanted to sponge off our status to make his newly formed club seem more legitimate. Worst case scenario he’s trying to convince other clubs that we’re close allies.”
Grit threw in his two cents worth. “We never should have made this deal. It would have been easier to come up with a hundred grand than risk our reputation on a pile of steaming shit like Viper.”
Breaker nodded, “I’m with Grit on that one. If they do anything at all to fuck with our club, I say we drop him and hide the body.”
“We ain’t fuckin’ killing his dumb ass. At least not until he crosses the line,” Storm insisted. Everyone saw Fuse bid in Viper’s auction. If he winds up dead, we’ll be the first fuckers they come lookin’ for.”
Celt yawned, stretching his arms over his head. “I’m not convinced that anyone would care if Viper disappeared from the face of the earth. That fecker’s been nothin’ but trouble since we met him.”
Storm glanced down at his phone when it rang, his expression turned sour. “Speak of the devil. It’s Viper,” he grumbled out loud. “I’ll put him on speaker phone.”
Everyone quieted down, including myself. All I could think of was how much I wanted to beat his ass for parading Winter around like he did.
“Storm here. What do you want Viper?”
Our club president’s voice was gruff and irritated.
I knew it was because he felt like he’d been boxed into a corner on this one.
He had been and it was all my fault. I felt bad about that, but it had kept Winter from ending up somewhere worse.
Therefore, feeling guilty wasn’t quite the same thing as regretting it.
“You know what I want, Storm.”
“Ready for a fucking favor already. That was fast.”
“We never agreed on a timeline. The deal was three favors, and I let you know when.”
“I remember the fuckin’ deal, Viper. I’m not refusing to honor the damn agreement,” Storm growled irritably. “I just want to know what you have in mind ahead of time.”
“It’s simple,” Viper responded. “I want you and your club brothers to ride side by side with me and my crew.”
“When and where?” Storm asked curtly.
There was a dramatic pause and Viper announced, “This evening. Let’s say six. We’ll be riding through Vulture’s Pride territory.”
“What the fuck are you doing, Viper? It sounds like you’re tryin’ to start a club war. You’ve gotta know that no favor we promised involved helping you win a vendetta against Vultures club.”
“I already told you what I’m after. I want the respect I deserve. The way I see it, if your crew and mine ride through their territory together, they won’t have the manpower to do anything about it. Therefore, there’s no fuckin’ danger to be had.”
“You’re playin’ with fire, Viper,” Storm warned.
“With all due respect, it’s my fire to play with,” Viper shot back.
Me and my club brothers looked at each other. They all knew that I’d dragged them into this mess.
“Fine,” Storm capitulated. “No stops, or confrontation. We ride straight through with no messing about. You get your petty revenge and then we all go straight home.”
“I agree to those terms,” Viper stated irritably.
Storm ended the call and tossed his phone onto the table in frustration.
A short silence spun out in the room as we realized that we were getting dragged into Viper’s mess real fuckin’ quick.
Disrespecting an established club was normally something we’d never do.
This is not how mature, established clubs solve their problems. Viper was showing his insecurity in making this move and everyone knew it.
Breaker spoke first. “Viper’s baiting them.”
Storm nodded once. “He’s definitely trying to antagonize them.”
“And using us to do it,” Celt said.
“Refusing isn’t an option. We’ve given our word.” We already knew that in our world that mattered more than risk. Walking back a favor wouldn’t just weaken Storm. It would weaken our entire club. We needed to just make the run.
Storm started giving orders like the leader he was.
“Celt, how long does it take to get there?”
Celt cursed under his breath. “At least five feckin’ hours. We need to leave within the next hour to get there on time.”
“Then we need everyone to gear up,” he said. “We ride in an hour. I want us riding shoulder to shoulder, two at a time in close formation. Like I told Viper, no fuckin’ around. We make the ride with no stops and then get the hell outta dodge.”
His gaze moved across the room, making sure everyone understood the mission.
“We honor the favor. That’s it. Nothing more. Nothing less.”
No one argued, debated, or complained. We all knew better. Plus, this was nowhere near the most dangerous mission we’d been on. This was the cost of doing business in this world.
Me? I was feelin’ some kind of way about seeing Viper again. Three days ago, he’d auctioned Winter off like property and now we were makin’ him look like a badass in public. It was proof that life wasn’t fuckin’ fair.
Storm announced, “Meeting adjourned. Mount up and be ready to ride in forty-five minutes.”
I pushed up from my seat and followed them out of the chapel. I checked on Winter and asked Rosie to stick close.
Outside my spirits picked up a bit at the sound of multiple engines comin’ to life all at the same time.
That was where I came into my own, ridin’ the open road with my club brothers.
There was nothin’ else quite like that kind of brotherhood.
It was something I craved and needed in life, something I’d never taint or give up.
As for Viper, the only silver lining in the situation was we would be down to just two favors after tonight and that meant one step closer to getting a scumbag like Viper out of our lives.
I got onto my bike and pushed the ignition switch. Grit pulled up beside me and jerked his chin. That meant we were riding shoulder to shoulder, at least until we met up with Viper’s crew and paired up with them.
Storm rolled out first, Celt fell in beside him automatically because they always rode together.
Next was Breaker and Thunder, and then the rest of us filling in behind them in tight formation.
Riding in groups is where muscle memory took over.
Years of riding together had made this kind of movement second nature to us.
Five hours. That was how far Viper had chosen to make us ride tonight.
It was an outrageous demand, especially on short notice.
As far as I was concerned this was a favor squandered.
He could have asked to ride with us at the next PATCH rally.
Unfortunately, Viper was impulsive, unable to resist gratifying his ego, rather than getting the most bang for his buck with this favor.
The miles stretched out in front of us, making for an enjoyable ride, despite the less enjoyable reason for it.
Bikers were made to ride the open road, and our club was no different.
The sun slowly sunk in the sky with late morning turning into afternoon.
Every mile I rode was a reminder of Winter.
I was pushing her too hard. Although it came from a good place of wanting her to get better, I needed to stop now because I was just pissing her off.
I knew some things couldn’t be forced. Maybe this was one of them.
As we rode, highways gave way to smaller roads. Traffic thinned. Buildings grew farther apart. Territory shifted, even if there wasn’t a sign announcing it.
Storm and Celt slowed as we approached the meeting point.
They’d picked this abandoned sawmill because it was flat, isolated, and out of view of the road.
Viper was sitting on his bike grinning like the maniac he was.
The place was packed with close to thirty men, all wearing shiny new Stolen Oath MC cuts.
“What the fuck is this,” Storm growled. “A few days ago your club had less than a dozen men. Now, my count says thirty-two.”
Viper preened while sitting on his bike, looking more youthful than ever.
“I patched over the Club Crawlers MC. I figured it was time to go big or go home.”
“Well, I brought forty-one brothers, so we might as well get this show on the road.”
Storm rode slowly past them and Viper pulled up alongside him. The rest of us paired off in the same manner, riding side by side with their club members.
We branched off onto the main road leading straight through town.
I steeled myself for what was to come, when I saw the Vulture’s Pride clubhouse.
The building sat back from the road behind a wide gravel lot.
Their clubhouse looked old and worn. The doors were closed and the lot was empty.
I’ve never seen a clubhouse that was a ghost town before.
Usually there were at least prospects milling about to make sure no one broke in.
Storm didn’t alter our course. We rode straight past it without slowing down and straight into town.
The minute we were within the city limits Viper’s crew started revving their engines, to cause a ruckus.
The sound filled the air. It was loud enough that it was drawing people outside to see what all the ruckus was about.
Storm shot him a dirty look, but Viper didn’t care. He wanted as much chaos as possible.
I kept my expression blank, stared straight ahead, and tried not to do anything to draw attention to myself.
I just wanted to get through this shitshow.
Every instinct I had screamed that this wasn’t just optics.
Viper was sending a message to Vulture about strength and unity.
The old club president didn’t know it was borrowed.