Chapter 3
A few hours later, Reeze woke to the alarm clock shrieking angrily beside his ear. He was still tired, nowhere near rested enough, but it was time to get up and head to the club. Half an hour later, he was astride his bike and on his way.
It was already beginning to get dark, and the smell of wet tarmac rose around him as he rode. He loved the freedom the motorcycle gave him, the feel of the road beneath him and the wind around him. This was where he felt most alive.
He took the slip road onto the motorway, and as he pulled out, he heard the familiar rumble of another Harley approaching from behind. A short while later, Jesse drew level with him. They exchanged a nod and continued together towards Wallhalla MC's HQ.
It stood on the outskirts of town, surrounded by a two-metre-high fence. The entrance was right beside Hangman's Rest, the small pub run by the club and where Reeze worked.
Beyond the wide gate lay the club's HQ and garages. A haven for the members – somewhere they could work on their bikes and take care of club business without prying eyes or cops constantly breathing down their necks.
The others were already there. Reeze counted ten bikes outside, and the club's prospect was busy washing the President's motorcycle.
Side by side, Jesse and Reeze walked through the heavy steel door. Inside, the place was buzzing. The jukebox in the corner was blaring, and Rollo and Mia were openly making out to the music as if nobody else existed.
Rollo was the club's President. Despite being fifty-five, he looked and behaved more like a man in his thirties. Mia was his wife, and the two of them had been together for as long as Reeze could remember. She was also the official owner of the pub.
Reeze hugged them both, poured himself a beer and headed into the meeting room. The others were already there. He nodded in greeting before settling into his chair to Rollo's left. He was the club's Master at Arms, after all. On the President's right sat Jesse, the club's Treasurer.
The other nine men took their seats, and with a strike of the gavel against the table, Rollo called the meeting to order.
They had plenty to get through, and Rollo turned directly to Reeze.
"How did it go last night?"
Reeze shifted in his chair.
"Yeah. It worked," he muttered. "We don't have to worry about the bloke talking, anyway. The rest of the little group has been neutralised too, so that front's quiet."
"Good," Rollo said, letting his gaze sweep around the table.
"Then all that's left is waiting for that bloodsucking lawyer to get our guys out of custody so we can be whole again."
The others nodded in agreement. Wallhalla MC was limping badly at the moment. Their Vice President, Secretary and Road Captain were all in custody over a completely ridiculous accusation. The lawyer was working flat out, but terms like police corruption and nepotism weren't exactly far-fetched.
Wallhalla had been through this sort of shit before. And now that Reeze had dealt with the alleged witness, the guys should be out soon.
"I've spoken to the President of Assholes MC," Rollo continued. "They're coming down this weekend. We'll take whatever backup we can get if we need it."
There were nods around the table. Assholes were allies, and right now Wallhalla could use them.
"Danne, take the prospect and restock the supplies. Mate, you sort out the broken gate and Jones can help you. Linus, make sure we've got fuel. Jesse, scrape together the cash, and Mark, let the women know about sleeping arrangements and whatever else needs sorting."
Nobody objected.
Rollo turned to Reeze.
"Check the inventory and let us know if anything needs replenishing."
Reeze nodded.
"By tomorrow, you'll all know what needs doing," Rollo concluded, bringing the gavel down against the table. "Anything else?"
Reeze pulled a crumpled note from the pocket of his jeans.
"One more thing."
Every eye around the table turned towards him.
"My daughter was nearly killed by a lorry from Benny's gravel pit today. The fucking idiot didn't even stop. Registration number's here."
He dropped the note onto the black mahogany table.
"How's Molly?" Jesse asked immediately.
"She's fine. My neighbour jumped in and saved her."
"Fuck," Danne said. "Lucky Molly's okay."
"Yeah. But my neighbour ended up with half a fucking glass bottle in her thigh."
"Jesus fucking Christ," Rollo muttered.
"I took her to A&E. Now she's babysitting Molly." Reeze couldn't quite keep the crooked smile from his face.
"Ah, the pretty blonde in C stairwell?" Jesse grinned. "The one you've been fucking drooling over since she moved in?"
Reeze gave him a wicked smile.
"Maybe."
"Ooh, nice," Mark whistled.
Laughter and shouting erupted around the table until Rollo brought the gavel down hard enough to make several of them shut up.
"You lot are worse than fucking children."
He picked up the note and pushed it across the table.
"Hale. Tom. Teach the driver some fucking road manners."
"I'll sort him out myself," Reeze muttered.
"The fuck you will. You'll kill the bastard, and we don't need that right now."
Reeze looked distinctly unhappy about it, but he knew better than to argue. The President's word was law.
The meeting ended and everyone began drifting back out into the common area. It was Wednesday, so most of them wouldn't stay particularly late. Reeze dropped onto the battered leather sofa at the far end of the room with a beer and had barely had time to settle before Sissi walked in.
She headed straight for him.
The glazed look in her eyes told him she'd been snorting something again. Her crop top was too tight, her miniskirt barely qualified as clothing, her hair was lank and her make-up looked as though it had been there since yesterday.
She dropped onto his lap.
"Hi, honey..."
The wet kiss tasted of alcohol and something chemical. Reeze kissed her back out of habit.
Sissi was nobody's.
And everybody's.
She slid down from his lap, kissing her way lower, and opened his jeans with practised hands. His body reacted because his body always fucking reacted, but it wasn't what he wanted. Not tonight. Not with Charlie still sitting somewhere in the back of his mind.
"Stop," he snapped.
"But, honey...?" she whined, reaching for him again.
"I don't want to."
"Your dick says something else..."
"For fuck's sake."
He pulled himself free, got abruptly to his feet and walked straight out into the yard.