CHAPTER SEVEN
“No! No, you can’t,” yelled Olive. “These are the kind of people who will kill indiscriminately. Just look at what my own mother did. She was the one who didn’t want me, not my father! What kind of woman does that?”
“Honey, she might have been forced to give up the search for you by her father or the club. Who knows what was behind all of this?” said Ham.
“I don’t care! I care about all of you. You’re my family. You’re the ones that gave me a life. Fed me. Clothed me. Educated me. Loved me!”
Moose stepped closer and hugged the young woman. She’d spent a lot of nights at his home having sleep-overs with Jennifer. He thought of her as his own daughter.
“I can’t let all of you get hurt for me,” she whispered.
“I hate to interrupt this tender moment, but we’ve got twenty bikes parked in front of the diner. They got through the hidden road,” said Hiro.
“Call Team Big to the front,” said Gator. “The rest of you, follow me. Olive, you’re staying here.”
“But…”
“No, buts!” growled Gator turning sharply. Olive jumped back and Gator shook his head. “I’m sorry. But you are not to leave this office. Iggy, you stay with her. Romeo, Kai you stay as well. The rest of you are with me.”
Miss Judy was working the counter at the diner, smiling at her regulars and pouring coffee refills, when she heard the rumble of a heard of Harley-Davidsons.
She knew that sound. When it got louder, she also knew it was more than the bikes she was used to.
And the bigger question was, how did they get on the secure road?
Immediately, she pushed the button below the counter and looked up at the cameras.
“AJ? We got trouble. Twenty bikes and they don’t look friendly.” She didn’t need a reply. She knew that AJ heard her and that help would arrive soon. Judy stared at her regulars at the counter and pushed them toward a booth near the back of the restaurant. The rest of the tables were empty.
When the bell above the door rang a small group of men walked inside. They were all wearing leather cuts with the emblem for Graveyard Saints. They were road dirty, some bandaged along their arms and faces.
“Morning fellas. Take a seat and I’ll get you some coffee,” said Judy as friendly as she could. The first five took their seats, then the next group entered. This group had a woman in the middle.
“Welcome, welcome,” she said in a happy voice. “Take a seat anywhere you like.”
The group stared at her, mostly curious as to why she wasn’t afraid of them.
The woman turned to look at her, the patch on her chest telling Judy something she never thought she’d see.
President. Their club president was a woman.
And this was a woman that looked as if she could kick ass on any man in the room.
She had dark hair sprinkled with a few grays. It was braided down her back in one long braid. Her skin was olive, or dirty, Judy couldn’t tell which. She had lean muscular arms and two distinct scars. One was straight across her forehead, the other was along her jawline.
“You seen this girl?” she asked showing Judy the picture. Judy picked it up, frowning but genuinely looking at it.
“Sorry, no. She looks like a lot of girls in the bayou. They all have the dark hair like her, looks like she might have darker skin too.”
“She ain’t black!” snapped the woman. Judy just smiled at her.
“I didn’t say she was. Creole and Cajun people have a mix of Spanish, Caribbean, French, and black heritage. They just tend to have darker skin. We see it a lot here. Now, what can I get y’all.”
Whoever these people were, they hadn’t noticed that a dozen men had walked around the bike shop, jumped on their bikes and pulled in behind those in the parking lot. Their heads turned at the roar of the motorcycles, the rumbles so loud, the windows rattled.
“Who are they?” snapped the woman.
“Those are the boys that own Patriot Cycles,” said Judy with another small grin. She poured the coffee, then stepped into the kitchen. “Let me make a fresh pot.”
When the bell above the door chimed, the bikers turned to see who was entering. In their minds, it didn’t matter. They were just fresh meat to wipe the pavement with. Except these men didn’t look like fresh meat. One by one goliaths entered the diner.
Cade was first, followed by Bodhi, Noah, Noa, Max, Alec, and Tailor. The men stepped inside and the mood in the café suddenly shifted from assured to unsure.
When the bell rang again, they stared at Titus, Rory, Luke, Rush, Gator, Skull, Matt, Kev, JB, BJ, and Tobias. Gunner and Razor brought up the rear. They were so busy watching the men enter the café, they didn’t notice the men that had come through the back.
Behind the café counter now stood Ham, Christian, Moose and Dan. The men poured themselves coffee and took a seat at the counter.
“Didn’t know this was someone else’s territory,” said the woman.
“It’s our home,” said Ham. “Can we help you?”
“Just looking for a girl. My daughter,” she said holding up the photo. “She was kidnapped years ago and we’ve been searching for her.”
“That’s a shame,” said Luke. “Kidnapped and you’ve never found her? Was it reported to the police? FBI?” The woman chewed the inside of her mouth. They knew she and her club wouldn’t have involved the police in anything, even if it was real.
“No. And we had our reasons. She’s mine. My daughter. I want her back and I will get her.”
“Seems to me if she wanted to be found, she would be,” said Tailor. The man standing to his right did something foolish. He reached for a weapon and Tailor gripped his wrist, bones cracking as he screamed like a child.
“Now see, that wasn’t nice,” said Alec. “We were being hospitable and you had someone try to pull a weapon on us.”
“We’re all carrying,” smirked the woman. “You and your big asses won’t stop bullets.”
It was like a well-rehearsed ballet as more than a dozen, strange, futuristic weapons were pulled, the sound of the first bullets entering their chambers. Not one of the bikers had the chance to pull their own weapons.
Neela stared at the men, turning in a half-circle, realizing her men were seriously outmanned.
“You came to our home, threatened our people, and you expected us to just let that happen?” asked Ham. “I should kill you all right here except that would mean Miss Judy would have to mop the place again. We don’t know the girl in the photo. We suggest you turn around and don’t come back.”
“I think you’re lying,” said the woman standing from her chair.
She wasn’t very big but you could tell she’d survived by pure fighting skills and fighting dirty.
Bodhi gripped the woman by her throat, the men on her own team gasping then making a jerking motion as if they were coming to her rescue. Alec smirked at them.
“Ah, ah, ah. She started it,” he grinned.
“Let. Me. Go,” she gasped.
“Nope,” said Bodhi. “You called us liars. That’s not something we ever do. Let this be a lesson to you. I could snap your neck without thinking. Right now. Right here. In fact, I wonder who would take your place. He might be happy for me to do it.”
Bodhi scanned the room, the others looking at the patches. They didn’t see a VP patch but they saw a Road Captain patch.
“Is it you?” asked Cade smiling at the man. “Would you take her place?” Neela continued to gasp for air, her boots dangling a good foot off the ground. The man said nothing. If he said yes, she would kill him for wanting her role, even though he didn’t say it.
“Pussies,” smirked Alec.
Bodhi released the woman, crumpling to the floor coughing and gasping for air. One of her men reached out to help her up but she slapped his hand away.
“Get the fuck away from me!” she snapped. She stood unsteadily, no doubt dizzy from the lack of oxygen.
“Leave now while you can still walk out of here,” said Ham. “Don’t come back on our land.”
“You’re hiding the little bitch,” she sneered. “I will find her.”
“Little bitch?” frowned Rush. “Now is that any way to speak of your long-lost daughter?”
Neela immediately realized her mistake and turned, leaving the room. The other bikers following one-by-one, not daring to look back. Judy walked back out to the counter, staring at the men.
“For the record, I would have been happy to mop up their blood.”