Chapter 2
CHAPTER
TWO
ASPEN
Standing at the stove, I drop the ramen noodles into the boiling water. Leaning against the counter, I watch my noodles cook. A few minutes later, a door slamming in the distance makes me flinch.
Will I ever stop flinching when I hear loud shit, or is this something I’m going to have to live with for the rest of my life? Hell, I used to be the one slamming doors. Maggie used to get so mad at me for doing it, but I didn’t stop because I thought it was funny.
Now I flinch when I shut the door a little too hard.
The sound of boots stomping coming toward me echoes.
“What are you making?”
Just the sound of his raspy voice makes my heart race.
“Ramen,” I say as I dump the spice packet onto the noodles.
Asher grunts. “Shouldn’t you be eating something a little bit healthier? Something that will help you put the weight back on that you lost.”
I stir the noodles and turn to face him, crossing my arms over my chest as I lean against the counter.
“I could, but where would the fun in that be? Maybe I like the weight I’m currently at.”
For the record, I don’t. Even I can admit I got a little too thin while I was being held by Ragged Anarchy, despite Asher’s attempts to keep me fed.
He shoots me a disbelieving look.
“Do you have therapy today?” he asks, changing the subject.
“Shouldn’t you be running off to chat up your FBI friends? Try to build a case against my brother to take down his MC?” I snap back.
“You and I both know I’m not going to take down this MC, and I’d appreciate it if you would stop saying it.”
“Once a cop, always a cop,” I sneer.
“You and I both know that’s not true,” he says calmly.
The way he says it pisses me off. Asher is the first man who has always kept his cool around me. He hardly takes the bait when I’m trying to get a rise out of him. He knows it too. He knows how much I fucking hate it.
Why does the one man who seems to be able to put up with my bullshit have to be the one who’s seen me at my worst? The one man whose life I’ve ruined.
“Aspen…”
“What? Can’t you see I don’t want you here? You need to get on your bike and fucking go!” I snap.
“Your ramen is burning,” he says, ignoring my jab.
Spinning around, I see the water is gone and the noodles are in fact sticking to the bottom of the saucepan because I’m weird and I don’t add the recommended amount of liquid.
“Fuck!” I yell as I grab it.
I toss the pan into the sink, making dishes rattle.
“What the hell is going on here?” Eagle snaps as he walks into the room.
“We’re just catching up,” Asher tells him.
“Doesn’t sound like it. Were you catching up, Aspen?”
“I was making lunch, and he distracted me.”
Eagle’s jaw clenches as he turns back to Asher.
“How about you head out to the gate for your shift?”
Asher nods and leaves without putting up a fight, even though his shift at the gate doesn’t start for another two hours.
I want to yell at him and tell him to stand up for himself. To not be such a yes man, but I know that it won’t do any good.
Asher Zimmerman knows when to keep his mouth shut, something I have yet to learn. Or should I say, learn completely.
Ragged Anarchy did their best to try to beat the disobedience out of me. I kept my mouth shut when I could, but I let my feelings be known more than I should have.
“Hey, are you okay?” Eagle asks softly, pulling me out of my head before I can spiral.
“I’m fine, Eagle.”
“Do you want me to remake whatever you burned?”
“No, I’m not even hungry. I was just going to eat for something to do.”
Eagle nods as he looks toward the door.
Out of all the guys, with the exception of my brother, I know Eagle the best. He’s been my brother’s best friend for as long as I can remember and his right-hand man.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“What’s up?” I ask as I give him my full attention.
“Do you want him gone? I’ll make him disappear if you want me to.”
Before he’s even finished asking the question, I start shaking my head.
“No, he’s fine.”
“Clearly, he’s not. All of us have noticed the way you tense up around him. Did he do something to hurt you while you were gone?”
I can’t help but laugh internally at his choice of words. Gone. He makes it sound like I was on a beach vacation, not being held against my will.
“No, Asher didn’t do anything to hurt me.”
“Then can you explain it to me because you two set off all the red fucking flags, and it makes my skin crawl.”
Sighing, I try to think of a way to explain it to him. Shit between Asher and me isn’t so cut and dry.
“Asher never physically or mentally hurt me, but he witnessed it all firsthand. He experienced it right there with me. Seeing him is a reminder of what happened and how I fucked up.”
“You didn’t fuck up, Aspen. You stopped to get a drink at a bar. That’s it.”
“A bar I had no business being in,” I point out.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Agree to disagree. Either way, Asher is fine. If you think he would make a good brother, keep him. Don’t decide his fate based on my opinion of him.”
“Well, if you ever change your mind, the offer stands.”
I tilt my head and study him. “Do you happen to be an older brother by chance?”
“No, why?” he asks, frowning.
“Because you got the older brother thing down pat.”
He shakes his head. “Go make yourself some lunch. You need it. I’ll catch up with you later.”
I watch as he stomps out of the room and toward Meek’s office. It’s nice he’s willing to get rid of Asher if it means I would be more at ease.
If only it were that easy.
I desperately want Asher to leave me alone, but at the same time, he’s the only one who puts me at ease when the demons become too much.
ASHER
I shut the van door right as Panther comes out of the shed.
“Loaded up?” he asks as he approaches.
“Yeah, ready to go.”
“Where is everyone else?” he asks as he scans the area.
“Not sure,” I tell him honestly.
What I don’t tell him is that as soon as I came out to do my part, a couple of the guys bounced, putting everything on me. I know they expect me to fail, but I won’t.
Too much is on the line for failure.
If I fail, that means walking away from Aspen, and I can’t do that. Not when she needs me.
Even if she’s not willing to admit that she does.
Yak and Prairie round the corner, laughing.
“Hey, where the fuck were you two?” Panther barks, making them freeze.
“Oh, decided to stop by the clubhouse to fuel up before we hit the road,” Yak says, trying to play it off.
“You were supposed to be loading shit,” Panther tells them as a couple of the other guys come out.
“The prospect had it handled,” Prairie says.
“Be that as it may, you guys know the rules. No man is left alone with the product,” Panther grits out.
“What, you don’t trust the cop anymore?” Yak smarts off.
“Yak…” Eagle warns.
“No, Eagle. Let him talk his shit. Get it all out in the open,” Panther says.
Yak scans the building crowd and rolls his shoulders back before staring down his president.
“I don’t like that he’s a cop. He never even should have been allowed to prospect,” Yak says confidently.
Panther shakes his head and laughs. “Trust me when I say that the prospect is no longer a cop and has more than proven himself to us. If I had any concerns about his loyalty, he wouldn’t be here. Meek more than did a deep dive on him, and he passed.”
Yak shifts. “Meek could have missed something.”
“Say that to my face. I dare you,” Meek says quietly as he steps forward.
Yak’s eyes widen when he sees the club’s computer genius.
“I meant no disrespect,” Yak says, trying to backpedal.
“Don’t lie. We all know you did,” Meek tells him.
“You know what gets me? Neither of you two trusts him, yet you left him alone with the product. You didn’t do anything to protect it. Which begs the question, is it your loyalty we should be questioning right now?” Eagle asks.
“No, you know we love this club,” Prairie says.
“Then fucking act like it,” Panther snaps. “Now, does everyone know where they need to be?”
“Yes” is murmured through the air.
Some of the guys break off to stay behind, while others load up.
I walk over to Panther. “I can stay behind if you think it will help.”
Before I even finish speaking, he’s shaking his head.
“No, you ride with us.”
“Okay.”
Panther gets into the passenger seat of the van while I take the driver’s seat.
We take off, with some of the brothers in front of us and the other half behind, blocking us in.
Tonight, we have to go down to Trinidad, just north of the southern Colorado border, to meet up with another group.
It isn’t the furthest run by any means, but enough of one that we have to have several plans.
At first, the drive starts out smoothly. We get off on the turnpike to avoid going through the middle of Denver. That’s when it all turns to shit. Right away, I notice traffic is considerably slower than it should be, and our lane is starting to come to a stop.
By the time I see the fifth set of flashing headlights as they pass, I know what’s going down.
“Shit, we need to get off here.”
“Why? What’s wrong?” Panther asks, looking up from his phone.
I ignore him and cut through the grass, heading to the closest off-ramp that’s a hundred yards away.
“What the fuck, Asher?” Panther hisses.
“There is a goddamn checkpoint ahead,” I tell him.
“How the hell do you know? There wasn’t one scheduled for tonight.”
“Trust me, I fucking know the signs.”
I get off the turnpike and head south on 25.
Panther’s phone starts to ring. “Yeah?”
“Hey, you need to change course. There’s a checkpoint on the turnpike,” Meek says.
Panther looks over at me. “Yeah, figured that out. Why weren’t we aware?”
“It was a last-minute decision. Our guy is out of town, so we didn’t get a heads-up. I heard it over the scanner,” Meek says.
“Got it. Let us know if you hear anything else.”
“Will do,” Meek says before hanging up.
“You were right,” Panther says after a moment.
I bite my tongue to stop myself from being a smartass.
I know I was right.
“Any recommendations for our change of plans?” he asks after a moment.
Taking a deep breath, I think about it, a plan forming in my mind.
“Have a couple of the guys get ahead of us again. Everyone else breaks off into pairs, trailing. We don’t know if there are going to be any more checkpoints, so we need to make it look like we are all separate.”
“Can do. What else?”
“We need to decide which route we want to take. We can take 25 all the way down, or we can cut through Littleton and head south on 85. That will turn into 105 and eventually meet back up with 25 north of the Air Force Academy.”
Panther turns in his seat and studies me. “If I didn’t know better, I would think you planned for this.”
He’s not wrong, but he’s not right either.
“I looked at a map and came up with a couple of optional routes. That’s it. I didn’t plan for this to happen.”
“I know you didn’t. You have too much on the line to turn now,” he says with no hesitation.
His phone vibrates in his hand, and he looks down. “Traffic’s backed up on 25. There was a three-car pileup by the Tech Center.”
“Eighty-five it is,” I say as I turn on my blinker, getting over.
The next three and a half hours, I drive, constantly checking my mirrors.
Brothers weave in and out of traffic, trailing behind like I recommended until the road clears. Even then, they hang back, making it appear like we aren’t together.
When we pull over at our rendezvous point, I don’t miss the looks of respect I get from some of the brothers, which makes it all worth it.