Chapter 13
LEGION
T he first time Dean Keegan strode through the steel door of the Twisted Throttle three years ago, the urge to blow a hole in the man’s chest had been nearly overwhelming.
Yet within the same instant, a nagging emotion had ripped through me, accompanied by a little voice in the back of my mind telling me not to act.
The voice was unnecessary. I wouldn’t have anyway.
Our carefully laid plans required more time.
A bullet would have been too quick, and far better than he deserved, anyway.
Still, there was an energy around him, a barely detectable magnetism that felt quite removed from my initial impressions.
I’d never felt anything like it. As we’d briefly conversed, I began to realize the pull of this unseen force seemed to originate from somewhere within the establishment… beyond him.
I chose to disregard it at the time and focus on the fact that I was finally face-to-face with the man who destroyed my brother. The mission at hand had taken precedence over everything else. We’d parted on terms that I allowed him to believe were civil.
This time, I know damn well there will be no civility on his part.
The dark, gravel parking lot of the Twisted Throttle isn’t nearly as full as it had been that night.
Still, from a strategic standpoint, giving myself the best chance at walking away from this encounter alive meant approaching the man during peak business hours.
Should Keegan be as tempted to violence as I had been that first night…
after everything that has transpired between us…
the presence of civilians might give him pause.
If I arrived here when only a few members of his crew were present, well, I’m not at all convinced he wouldn’t end me on the spot. I’m still not certain he won’t.
Lighting up what may indeed be my last cigarette, I survey the motorcycles in the lot. Viking’s FatBoy is among them. Axel’s Dyna. Chopper’s Chopper … Some of these other bikes could belong to prospects. Keegan’s black beauty must be locked up in his shop.
I can’t help but chuckle to myself. This man has every reason in the world to hate me, to want me dead, and that’s not counting the fact that I told him I was in love with the woman who is now his wife .
“ Fuck …” I pull the final drag on my coffin nail, then flick it aside, making my way toward the steel door of the roadhouse. “ Dead man walking .”
Upon entering, I’m immediately relieved when Viking isn’t at the door.
I scan the room quickly for the others. What had once been a roadhouse, regularly occupied to full capacity on any given night, was only half at best. The place is in pristine condition, though.
Brand new, fully stocked liquor shelves with a mirrored backwall, brand new mahogany bar, and updated tables and leather seating along the brick accent wall.
There is only one indication that this establishment had been torn up in a drive-by.
Framed within a shadow box and displayed in honor of their fallen brother, a black leather cut hangs on the wall. There’s a small hole just below the left zippered pocket, and one other through the decimated patch that once displayed his road name... Snowy.
Perhaps I should have arranged another meeting spot… Given Keegan and his crew a little time to come to terms with my return.
I shift my gaze back to Keegan, just as he realizes I’m standing here.
Wordless, but wearing a less than welcoming expression speaking volumes on its own, Keegan jumps over the bar, sending a few beer bottles smashing to the floor.
“Dean! Shit! Dean!” the redheaded pixie of a barmaid calls after him in a panic while reaching for something beneath the bar counter.
I raise my hands in a gesture of peace as he storms up to me, but his fists still grip the collar of my leather jacket.
He hauls me nose-to-nose with him, yet his momentum continues to propel me backward.
My back slams against the steel door, knocking the wind from my lungs, and he shoves me through, into the lot.
I land on my back against the gravel, Keegan standing over me with that murderous glare in his eyes.
“Well, isn’t this familiar…” I cough, dragging myself back from him another few feet before I attempt to stand. At least he didn’t Spartan kick me in the chest this time.
To my surprise, he allows me to get to my feet, and I brush myself off. “I do come in peace.”
“ And you’ll be leaving in pieces ,” he manages to growl through a jaw gritted so tightly, I half expect him to shatter his grill.
Before I can respond, Viking bursts through the door behind him, and I take another few cautious steps back.
“What’s going on? Cherry hit the buzzer and…” Viking’s words trail off, recognition eclipsing his look of concern. “Oh, you gotta be shittin’ me!”
I force a smile. “Love what you all have done with the place.”
“ You’re not welcome here.” Keegan starts toward me again, but Viking hooks a massive arm across Keegan’s chest, restraining him.
“Not in my lot! Not in my town!” He shouts, fighting Viking’s hold to get to me.
“Not in this fucking state! You should have stayed gone, Legion! There’s nothing left for you here! ”
“We have unfinished business,” I remind him. “Promises on my part were made. I intend to keep them. And it would be in our loved one’s best interest for you to hear me out regarding those promises .”
His rage simmers to a low boil as my words register, and Keegan no longer struggles against Viking’s hold. The tension around his eyes slackens a bit. “Is she in immediate danger?”
“Not immediate .”
Viking releases him, and he shoves away from his MC brother, taking a step closer to me.
“You have five seconds. Start talking.”
“I require more time than that, I’m afraid.”
He scowls at me. “I’m not playing any more cryptic games with you. You have something to say, then you can say it in plain fucking English, and you can say it in front of my brothers.”
“Lead the way, Pres .”
He shakes his head. “No. Not here. Not now. Stogies. Tomorrow morning, first thing, when the rest of us are all present.”
“If you insist.”
“I do... And if you go near my wife and kid again, I’ll fucking kill you , Legion.”
“After all we’ve been through together? We’re practically family , Dean.” I can’t help but sneer at him. He turns to head back into the roadhouse.
“Get the fuck out of my lot,” he says, before the steel door slams closed behind them, and I’m alone in the lot once again.
“Well, that could have gone worse,” I console myself, walking back to my bike. After lighting up another cigarette, I remove my cell to bring up the number of possibly the only ally I may have left in this world.
The line picks up. “Yeah?”
“Hello, old friend…”
“ Legion? Holy shit... I thought you were dead.”
“I’m working on it. In the meantime, where is she, Rusty?”
“Hang on, I got a card somewhere with the address for the new place she’s been working. Give me a sec…”
While I do, I mount my bike and strap on my dome.
“She’s in Forsyth County,” Rusty informs me. “She dances at a few clubs out that way. You want to meet up? Been a long time, man.”
Airing on the side of caution, I ask, “Any affiliation to the JoCo Jokers?”
“Nope. Outside their territory. It’s not affiliated with any MC, actually. A place called the Raunch Ranch.”
“ Classy.” I sigh, starting up my bike. If I am to be dispatched to Hell tomorrow morning, I’d like to get my dick wet one last time.
T he two-hour ride lands me outside the Raunch Ranch , just after eleven PM. Rusty is waiting for me by his bike, and I light up another cigarette as I walk up to him. Though Rusty’s tone suggested a measure of relief, his expression reads a bit nonplussed now that we’re face-to-face.
“What is it?” I ask.
He runs a hand over his short beard. “I’m just surprised you’re alive…between the Saviors and your grand entrance .”
“Those explosions could have simply been mishaps. It’s common knowledge that cook trailers are prone to such calamities.”
Rusty seems to consider me a moment before releasing a tense sigh. “You always speak as if everything is going according to plan, but what has you looking so melancholy?”
“I finalized the sale on the Morningstar and my brother’s estate.
They were the last ties I had to the desert.
” Before word got out about my self-decimated crew, I managed to negotiate the release of a few crews we’d ruled over these last few years.
Now, my financial situation is probably the most stable part of my life.
“So, you’re done with Arizona?”
“ Home is where the heart is ,” I mutter, then gesture to the strip club. “Shall we?”
After weaving through the crowded establishment, we claim a table in the shadows, nearly dead center of the stage, though way in the back.
There’s a robust gentleman in a disheveled suit seated at the next table over, a young dancer grinding in his lap.
Just as he happens to glance in our direction, our eyes meet, and a wicked grin stretches my mouth.
There are opportunities everywhere. One simply has to be willing to reach out and choke the shit out of them. To take advantage…
“ Doth mine eyes deceive me?” I raise my voice over the thumping music, pulling out my cellphone. I don’t give him the chance to react before snapping a damning photo of the two. “Or is this fine gentleman before me, not the illustrious Mayor of Bermuda County?”
“Well, if it isn’t our anonymous hero ,” the mayor chuckles, stress lines creasing his forehead. I can practically feel the waves of embarrassment radiating off of him. He quickly shoves some cash at the stripper and shoos her away. “Don’t tell me you’re here to spend that reward money.”