Wheels’ Reckoning (Saint’s Outlaws MC: Madison, WI #3)

Chapter 1

Chapter One

Wheels

The taillights of Goldie’s car cut through the darkness like two glowing red eyes in front of me. I’d been staring at them for the better part of thirty damn minutes.

“Jesus Christ,” Nugget muttered through the comm in my helmet. “Does she ever slow down?”

“Nope.”

The woman drove like the devil himself was riding shotgun. Which, considering the circumstances, maybe he was.

The roar of our Harleys filled the empty Wisconsin highway as we tore through the night. Trees blurred past on either side of us. The cool air whipped at my cut and rattled against my helmet.

Half an hour ago, we’d caught sight of her.

Half an hour ago, I’d thought we’d be pulling her over within five minutes.

Instead, she’d spent the last thirty minutes taking every back road, county road, and side road she could find.

I couldn’t even be mad about it.

The woman had shown up at the clubhouse looking like she’d seen a ghost, shoved an envelope into my chest, told us to get the hell out of Madison, and then someone started shooting at us. That tended to make a person a little cautious.

“You see anything?” I asked.

Nugget glanced in his mirrors before shaking his head.

“No headlights.”

“Me either.”

That was good because I’d spent the entire ride watching our mirrors, side roads, intersections, and for the SUV that had already taken shots at the clubhouse.

Nothing.

Either we were clear, or whoever was after Goldie was a hell of a lot better than I thought. Neither option sat great with me.

The road curved ahead, and Goldie took it too fast. Her tires drifted toward the shoulder before correcting. “Easy,” I muttered.

The woman was running on adrenaline, and eventually that shit ran out.

And when it did, people made mistakes.

I rolled on the throttle and my bike surged forward. The familiar vibration settled through my body as I pulled alongside Nugget. “We’re doing this.”

“Took you long enough.”

I laughed, then twisted the throttle harder and the engine roared beneath me. The distance between Goldie and us started shrinking.

Fast.

The speedometer climbed.

Seventy.

Seventy-five.

Eighty.

The cool night air slammed into me as I pulled closer, and Goldie’s headlights bounced over the pavement. I moved into the opposite lane and accelerated. The front wheel edged past her rear bumper, then her driver-side door. Then her front fender.

I matched her speed, and the car jerked slightly. She’d finally noticed me, and I turned my head.

Goldie’s eyes were huge behind the glass.

Terrified.

Exhausted.

Wild.

I motioned downward.

She shook her head immediately. Hell no.

I pointed again.

She shook her head harder.

Jesus Christ. I motioned for her to roll down the window. For a second, I didn’t think she would, then the glass slowly lowered.

Wind exploded through the opening. “What the hell are you doing?” she shouted.

I laughed. “What am I doing? What the hell are you doing?”

“Leave!”

“Not happening!”

“You need to go back!”

I pointed toward the shoulder. “Pull over!”

“No!”

I barked out a laugh.

This woman was insane.

“Goldie!”

She gripped the steering wheel tighter. “They’re following me!”

“Not anymore!”

“You don’t know that!”

“I know you’re gonna wreck this damn car if you keep driving like this!”

Her jaw clenched.

“Pull the fuck over!” I yelled. “Before I wreck both of us!”

For a second, I thought she was going to ignore me again, then I saw the fight happening behind her eyes. Fear and then common sense finally won.

Her shoulders sagged just a little, and then she nodded.

Thank fuck.

A long gravel driveway appeared ahead, and Goldie eased off the gas.

I dropped back; the car turned onto the gravel with dust kicked up behind her tires, and I followed. Nugget rolled in behind me.

The field stretched forever in every direction. Corn, darkness, stars, and absolutely nobody around. Perfect.

Goldie stopped, her brake lights glowed red, and the engine died.

For a second, nobody moved, and then her door flew open. She practically launched herself out of the car.

I killed my bike and the sudden silence rang in my ears.

Nugget parked beside me, and we climbed off our bikes.

Goldie was already pacing with both hands buried in her hair. “Are you two out of your damn minds?”

Well. Guess we were skipping introductions.

I crossed my arms. “Good to see you too.”

She pointed at us. Actually pointed. “You followed me!”

“Yep.”

“You shouldn’t have followed me!”

“Probably.”

Her eyes widened. “Probably?”

Nugget snorted.

I ignored him.

Goldie threw her hands into the air. “You should be back in Madison!”

“No.”

“Packing your shit!”

“No.”

“Leaving!” she shouted.

I smiled. Definitely no.

“You don’t get it!” she snapped.

“No one tells the Saint’s Outlaws what we should do,” Nugget said simply.

Her laugh came out sharp and slightly hysterical. “That’s exactly the problem.”

I tilted my head.

Goldie pointed back toward the road. “You have no idea what you’re dealing with.”

“We got a pretty good idea.”

“No.” Her voice dropped. That got my attention. “No, you don’t.”

The fear in her eyes wasn’t normal fear. It wasn’t fear of getting fired. Or getting arrested. Or even getting shot. This was something deeper.

Something uglier.

“They’re not normal people,” she said quietly.

Nugget shifted beside me.

Neither of us interrupted.

Goldie laughed again. The sound held absolutely no humor. “You walked into a hornet’s nest.” The wind rolled through the field. The corn rustled in the darkness. “And now you’re all going to get stung.”

I exchanged a look with Nugget, then looked back at her. “We’re not running.”

“You should.”

“We’re not.”

“You should.”

“We’re not.”

Goldie stared at me like she couldn’t decide if I was brave or stupid. Probably both.

“You need to run,” she said quietly. “Like I’m running.”

I shook my head. “No.”

Her shoulders dropped. “You really don’t understand.”

“Then explain it.”

She laughed. “You think I haven’t tried?”

I waited.

She looked away. “I’ve seen things,” she whispered.

“What things?”

Her eyes snapped back to mine. “You don’t want to know.”

That was bullshit because I absolutely wanted to know, but now wasn’t the time.

I took a step closer. “We aren’t leaving Madison.”

She stared at me. “Then you’re dead.”

Nugget barked out a laugh.

Goldie looked at him like he’d lost his mind.

“Saint’s Outlaws don’t die,” Nugget said.

I grinned. “See? What he said.”

She shook her head. “You’re both idiots.”

“Maybe.”

Her eyes narrowed.

I jerked my chin toward the car. “You got anything in there?”

“What?”

“Stuff.”

She blinked. “A backpack.”

“Anything else?”

“No.”

“Good.”

She frowned. “Why?”

“Go get it.”

She didn’t move. “Why would I do that?”

I stared at her, then slowly smiled. “Because you’re coming back to the clubhouse with us.”

She laughed immediately. “No.”

“Yep.”

“No.”

“Yep.”

“I’m not,” she insisted.

“You are.”

“I’m absolutely not.”

I sighed. “This is getting repetitive.”

Goldie crossed her arms. “I’m not going back.”

“Then whoever the fuck is doing this is gonna find you.”

Something flickered across her face.

Fear. Real fear. I saw it.

So did Nugget.

“We can keep you safe,” I said.

She looked away toward the road, then she whispered the words I’d been waiting to hear. “I don’t think anyone is safe from The Ledger.”

The Ledger.

There it was.

The thing we’d been chasing.

The thing shooting at us.

The thing burning buildings and throwing bricks and making city permits disappear.

Goldie knew something big.

She dragged her fingers through her messy blonde hair. Thinking. Arguing with herself. Trying to decide whether she trusted us. Finally, she exhaled. “Fine.”

I smiled. “Knew you’d come around.”

She pointed at me. “Don’t get excited.”

Too late.

“I’m only agreeing because I think I have maybe a one percent better chance of staying alive with you than by myself.”

I chuckled. “That’s one percent I’ll take.”

She rolled her eyes, then turned toward her car. A minute later, she came back carrying a black backpack.

She stopped beside us. Looked at me. Looked at Nugget. Looked back at me.

Before she could ask, I pointed toward my bike. “You’re with me.”

Nugget immediately threw both hands up. “Works for me.”

Goldie looked relieved.

Interesting.

Nugget climbed onto his bike, and I grabbed the spare helmet out of my saddlebags and held it out.

Goldie took it with no hesitation, argument, or asking for help. She slipped it over her head and secured the strap herself.

I raised an eyebrow. “You ridden before?”

She looked at me and shrugged. “A time or two.”

I grinned. “Right on.” Then I swung onto my bike, and she was right behind me. She was tentative at first, then closer, and her hands settled against my sides.

I looked over my shoulder. “Hold on.”

Her fingers tightened immediately.

I cranked the throttle, and the engine roared to life.

We were heading back to Madison, and The Ledger should be the ones scared now. We were done fucking around.