Blacktop Freedom (Kings of Vengeance MC Book 7)

by Winter Travers

  He did it for his family.

  Part of me thought I would do the same thing.

  Both of my parents were gone, but I knew I would do anything for them when they were alive. My sister lived out in California, and though we didn’t see each other often, I would also do anything for her.

  How could I be mad at him for something that I probably would have done, too?

  Though, I would have gone to the police for help. Jax took the hard way, which was just like him.

  “You heard the rumors on how the Kings of Vengeance got their name?” Clint asked.

  I rolled my eyes and set my phone on the desk. “I’m going to assume the reason for their name is because they think they are the kings of getting vengeance,” I guessed.

  Clint quirked an eyebrow. “Well, yeah, but the reason that they started is way more exciting than your boring explanation.”

  “And what rumor is it that you have heard?”

  Clint smiled broadly. “Well, I have no facts of any of this, but it’s been said that Quinn’s mom was murdered by seventeen men, and he got vengeance.”

  I tipped my head to the side. “Seventeen men?” I laughed. “I think it would only take one man and a gun to take someone out.” What Clint had just said was most definitely a rumor. Quinn’s ol’ lady got into some trouble, and he bailed her out with some TNT. Though anything seemed a lot more likely than the crazy story Clint told. “You do know we are the police, and the story you just told is bogus, right?”

  Clint shrugged. “I do, but it’s at least entertaining to think about while we sit here doing absolutely nothing.” Clint pulled his pen from his pocket and twirled it with his fingers.

  “Then let’s go over everything we know so far,” I suggested. “Maybe we are missing something.”

  Clint chuckled. “You and I have gone over every little detail we have. I could tell you everything from memory.”

  He was right. What little we had was pretty much nothing in the larger scheme of things. We needed a break, and I was hoping it was going to come from the Kings of Vengeance any day now.

  “Maybe you should go back to trying to figure out what your road name would be,” I suggested. “You were doing much better at that the other day.”

  “Outlaw. It’s been decided.” Clint made two guns with his fingers and winked at me. “Just call me Outlaw, baby.”

  Lord. My life was a circus, and Clint was one of the sideshows. “I think you might want to come up with a plan B,” I laughed.

  Clint shook his head. “There is no plan B for Outlaw, baby.”

  Oh, Lord. I really hoped the Kings of Vengeance gave us information, because if things kept going the way they were, Clint was going to legally change his name to Outlaw. “Tomorrow, we’ll go to the clubhouse and check in with the Kings, yeah?” I suggested.

  Clint clapped his hands together and raised them over his head. “Thank God,” he cheered. “One more day of boredom.”

  I shook my head and refreshed my messages again. Clint was eager get some information from the Kings, and I was, too. I just hoped that when we showed up tomorrow, they were going to have something to tell us. Right now, we would take any information.

  And if luck was really on my side, then Jax wouldn’t be there when we showed up, either.

  Luck was never on my side, but hopefully, this one time, she would be.

  *

  Chapter Eight

  Bologna and assimilating…

  Brick

  “Tell your woman to stop glaring at me.”

  Zephyr shrugged. “Brother, I’m not going to do that because I have to go home and sleep next to her tonight. I’d like to actually wake up in the morning.”

  I took a sip of my beer and kicked my feet out in front of me. “I don’t understand why she’s so pissed off at me.”

  Lynn was sitting on the couch next to Kimber and Fancy while glaring at me the whole time. It wasn’t cool.

  “She thinks you’re the one who came up with the idea to get Steph involved with club business.”

  “Pretty sure that was a plan we all agreed to,” I grunted.

  Zephyr shrugged. “You’re right, but Lynn still thinks it was all you.”

  I shook my head. “Bullshit.”

  “What’s bullshit?” Dyno asked. He pulled out the chair next to me and sat. “The fact neither of you were at the strip club helping today?”

  I glanced at Dyno. “We were over at Steph’s place getting her on board with contacting Wrigley. Sort of busy,” I grunted.

  Dyno chuckled. “Sure, sure. But I didn’t want us to have all the fun, so we left some of the flooring for you two to do today.”

  Zephyr groaned and shook his head. “Come on, brother. I’ve been busting my ass over there, and so has Brick.”

  We took one day off to get some other shit done and Dyno forgets all the work we had already done over there. “You guys couldn’t have finished the floor by yourselves?” I asked.

  Dyno shook his head. “Nope. You guys finish the floor today, and I’m going to start building the stage.”

  “Or,” Zephyr drawled, “we hire actual contractors to finish the club, and we stay here.”

  Quinn strutted into the common room and slapped Zephyr upside his head. “You gonna pay for that?”

  “Oh, come on. You guys are acting like we don’t have any money.” Zephyr rubbed the back of his head and scowled.

  “The club doesn’t have any money. Right now, Dyno has money.” Quinn walked into the kitchen area and grabbed an apple. He polished it on his shirt and bit off a huge chunk.

  “And I won’t have money for long if the club keeps taking it and not paying me back.” Dyno tapped his fingers on the table. “Haven’t we gone over this before, Zephyr?”

  “Yeah, yeah,” Zephyr muttered. “I was just hoping you would have a different answer from the past.”

  Quinn shook his head. “No change until the club starts bringing in money.”

  “Fine.” Zephyr stood quickly, and his chair skidded back. “Let’s go finish the damn floor so we can get the club done.”

  “How many more weeks you think it is going to be before everything is ready?” I asked.

  Dyno shrugged. “Could be a month, could be six months. It all depends on how much work you guys actually do.”

  “Fuck six months,” I grunted. “I’ll finish the damn floor myself and you can use Zephyr to start on the stage.”

  “Now that is the type of motivation I like to hear,” Quinn smirked. “Bust your ass now so you can sit back and relax when the money starts rolling in.”

  “I can come and help,” Lynn volunteered.

  “Me, too,” Fancy called.

  “I’m preggo, but I can totally come and be a bloated cheerleader,” Kimber laughed. “I can waddle from room to room.”

  “You aren’t even that far along and you’re already waddling?” Fancy laughed. “By the time you reach eight months, you’re going to have us hauling you around in a wheelchair.”

  Kimber shrugged. “Hey, whatever it takes.”

  “You could get us sandwiches,” Lynn suggested.

  “Oh, and chips.” Fancy popped the gum in her mouth. “I like the ruffle kind.”

  Kimber bumped fists with Fancy. “You know I got you, girl. Gonna get some dip, too.”

  “Are we going grocery shopping?” Petra walked into the common room and stood next to the couch. She rubbed her stomach and grimaced. “You think you could pick up some fruit? This biker diet is messing up my stomach.”

  “Sure,” Kimber laughed. “It’s all about balance. We’ll get some fruit and then for dessert we can have donuts.”

  Petra chuckled. “Total balance.”

  “I thought we were going to the strip club to work?” I asked.

  “You’re gonna find out that having the girls around makes things really interesting.” Quinn finished his apple and tossed the core into the garbage. “And we have apples; what other fruit d
o you need?” he asked Petra.

  “Grapes would be good. Maybe even a pineapple?” Petra suggested.

  “You do know we live in Michigan, not some tropical island, right?” Zephyr laughed.

  Petra flipped him off. “You can get good fruit anytime in the grocery store. Have you even been to grocery store before?”

  “Yeah, but only when you girls drag me to the store,” Zephyr grunted.

  “Well, Zephyr can go with the girls to the store to get lunch and the rest of us can head to the club,” Quinn called. “I’ll get Sledge and Rhino over there, too.”

  “Get everyone over there and let’s knock all of this shit out,” I grunted. We didn’t know what was going to happen with the Devil’s Rebels, and if we had the time and manpower right now to get shit done, we needed to do it.

  “Now that is the type of enthusiasm I wish everyone had,” Dyno laughed.

  “We taking our bikes or the van?” Zephyr asked.

  “I haven’t seen a snowflake fly yet that has stuck to the ground, so I’m on my bike.”

  I lifted my half empty beer can. “Well, someone is going to have to drive my ass because I ain’t going back to jail for having half a beer in me.”

  “Great, you can come to the store with us,” Zephyr called. “You can see what a shitty experience it is.”

  For a second, I thought about risking driving my bike instead of being dragged through the grocery store with the girls.

  Quinn clapped me on the shoulder. “It ain’t worth the risk,” he mumbled.

  Of course, Quinn knew what I was thinking.

  “You sure about that?” I laughed. “I’m glad to be out, but I gotta admit that I miss the quiet.”

  “You’ll get used to us.” Quinn pushed me toward the door. “Driving in the van with those three will make it happen really quick.”

  I wasn’t too sure about that.

  Reluctantly, I followed Zephyr and the girls out to the van and watched the guys roar off on their bikes. This wasn’t the first time I had been in the van with the girls, but it would be my first real outing with them.

  Lynn had called dibs on the front seat, so I was stuck in the back with Fancy and Kimber.

  “How are you assimilating?” Kimber asked.

  I slowly turned my head to look at her. “What?”

  “Assimilating? How do you feel about reentering society?” She laid her hand on her stomach and sighed. “I was watching a show the other night and I thought about you.”

  What the hell show would make Kimber think about me?

  “Oh,” Fancy called. She waved her hand in the air and snapped her fingers. “I think I watched the same show! It was the Life After Lockup marathon, wasn’t it?”

  “Yass,” Kimber moaned. “I only got to watch two episodes before Quinn told me to turn it off.”

  “What the hell is Life After Lockup?” Zephyr called from the front.

  “I’ve heard about that show,” Lynn said. “Does it seem real?”

  “Girl, if having your man get out of prison and mess with prostitutes doesn’t seem real to you, then I don’t know what is,” Kimber cackled. “That show had me rolling with all of the craziness.”

  “Uh, if assimilating means sleeping with prostitutes, then no, I’m not assimilating.” I had just gotten out of prison and wasn’t looking to get my junk diseased.

  Kimber shook her head. “If you were Tony, that would be the way to go, but I’m thankful that isn’t your plan.”

  “Can we go back to how you thought watching a show about a guy sleeping with prostitutes made you think of Brick?” Zephyr laughed.

  Kimber waved her hand in the air. “The show follows a bunch of different felons. Tony and Angela just happen to be my favorite.”

  “I thought you only watched two episodes?” Fancy asked.

  Kimber’s eyes darted to the floor. “Uh, well, I might have downloaded an app on my phone that lets me watch the show whenever I want.”

  Fancy’s eyes bugged out. “That’s what you were doing the other day at work when I couldn’t find you. You were watching your trash show!”

  Kimber gasped. “I didn’t mean to! I went to the bathroom and thought I would watch a little bit while I did my business, and then the next thing I knew, I had been in there for fifteen minutes.” Kimber sighed. “You know I didn’t end up taking a break after that because I felt bad.”

  “What’s the app?” Zephyr asked.

  “Uh, why?” Kimber asked.

  “Because I think watching TV while you take a shit sounds like a great idea,” Zephyr laughed.

  “Ugh,” Lynn moaned. “Do not tell him what app it is,” she grunted. “The man spends enough time in the bathroom the way it is.”

  Zephyr pointed a finger at Lynn. “Don’t be mad that I let things happen naturally and don’t sit there grunting and pushing to force things.”

  “It happened,” Fancy called. “You guys have finally crossed the line.”

  “Pretty sure Kimber started it when she told us she was watching TV while she took a shit,” I snickered.

  “I was not shitting,” Kimber insisted. “I drank a lot of water.”

  Fancy folded her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure.”

  “Oh, look,” Lynn called. “We’re here, and we can stop this intensely personal conversation.”

  Lynn hopped out of the van like her ass was on fire and followed suit. Thankfully, I had opted to sit next to the door for easy escape.

  “Help me out,” Kimber called. She waved her hand at me. “I’m carrying Quinn’s heir around with me.”

  “Heir?” Fancy giggled. “Girl, you are acting like you’re royalty.”

  I grabbed Kimber’s hand and hauled her out of the van. She was barely pregnant so I had to wonder how she would be when she was carrying a basketball around with her under her shirt.

  “You guys are the Kings of Vengeance, right?” Kimber brushed her hands on her pants and sighed. “Therefore, royalty.”

  “I don’t think that’s how it works,” Lynn whispered.

  Fancy tipped her head to the side. “Does that mean since Dyno is VP that my kids will be also heirs to the throne?”

  “Jesus,” Zephyr laughed. “You do know this is Whitmore, right, and not fucking England?”

  “What does that have to do with it?” Kimber asked. “I’m totally cool with being the queen of Whitmore.”

  I turned on my heel and headed into the store. These chicks were crazy. I never knew what they were going to say or do.

  “Now, we’re just getting things for lunch,” Zephyr reminded the girls when they caught up to me. “Lunch,” he repeated.

  I grabbed a cart and pushed it to the right of the store.

  First stop, bakery.

  I hadn’t been anywhere near a donut or a good pastry in years. One thing that prison did was make you miss good food. On more than a night a two, I went to sleep hungry because I couldn’t stomach the slop that was served.

  I grabbed a pack of cinnamon muffins and a coffeecake off the shelf and set them in the cart.

  “Hey,” Fancy protested. “We’re supposed to just be getting things for lunch,” she reminded me.

  I scoffed and shook my head. “You guys are getting lunch; I’m getting shit I haven’t eaten in years.” No one was going to tell me what I could and couldn’t buy.

  The girls wandered ahead and stopped in front of the deli counter.

  “Bologna,” I called.

  Kimber turned toward me with her nose wrinkled. “Uh, no.”

  I nodded my head. “Bologna is a big, fat yes.” I motioned to the guy behind the deli counter. “Two pounds beef bologna, and three of your garlic bolognas.”

  “Did he just say bolognas?” Lynn laughed. “I’m adding an s to the end of my words now, too.”

  I rolled my eyes and pointed back to the bakery. “We need some rolls.”

  “It’s like he’s a kid in a candy store,” Fancy laughed.
“Next thing you know, he’s going to get excited when he sees the lima beans.”

  Now it was my turn to wrinkle my nose. “I’ll pass on that shit. Prison is pretty good on serving the shit no one wants to eat.”

  “What did they feed you when you were in there?” Zephyr asked. “You would think bologna would be cheap enough to feed all of you guys.”

  I shook my head and investigated the meat case. “Hamburgers, chicken, tacos, and pb&j were the shit they made that wasn’t bad.” I pointed at the large Cajun roast turkey. “A pound of the Cajun turkey, too,” I called to the deli worker.

  “I could live off of those four things,” Kimber shrugged. “Though I think I would like a little more variety.”

  I hadn’t really thought much about food since I had been out. Sure, I wanted to eat the good stuff, but I hadn’t thought of all the amazing things I could be eating. Did most people think three pounds of bologna was good? Probably not. But I ate that shit all the time growing up, and walking down memory lane with a bologna sandwich sounded like a good idea to me.

  “They have other shit, but those were my favorites.” I tipped my head to the side and chuckled. “Fish on Fridays was fucking horrible. Swear to God, the stench of that shit lingered for days.” Soft, mushy, mealy fish was not at all appetizing. Pair it with undercooked French fries and it was a meal made for hell.

  “Well, now you can eat bologna whenever you want, and I’ll go get you buns.” Fancy smiled wide. “I happen to also like bologna, so I’m glad you like it because now no one will give me shit when I eat a bologna, pepperoni, and potato chip sandwich.”

  Kimber gagged and slapped her hand over her mouth. “Sweet Jesus,” she gasped.

  I nodded to the guys slicing meat. “Add in two pounds of pepperoni and three pounds of ham.”

  “Are we feeding an army?” Lynn asked. She hooked her arm through Kimber’s and smiled wide. “Let’s go check out the chips while Brick buys out the deli.”