by Ryder Dane
She heard the police radio crackle and what sounded like code words to her, and looked up as the officer came running for the car. He unlocked the door and yelled, “Get in.” She was happy to comply. It would be great to finally get to her apartment and… Her dream of a glass of wine and a hot bath was cut short by the officer driving fast through the streets of town.
“You own the pet grooming place on East Street?” A shiver of dread skimmed over her body.
They parked two blocks away from the fire. The tow truck parked behind them, and the driver got out and came to where they sat. She had already been pulled back when she tried to get out of the cruiser by the cop. So she stared at the ruins of her life, while they discussed the cause of the fire. “Molotov Cocktail” was the suspicion. And since she’d just reported her brother as one of the perps involved with her car being vandalized, and the fact he and his associates had roughed her feathers last night, David was their first suspect.
There was shouting and the sound of the roof collapsing inward, while people scrambled back from the top blocks falling onto the sidewalk. The gas company was digging furiously, trying to get to the shut-off under the sidewalk at the road. They would normally shut the gas off at a main valve, but her place was at the only break in the block, and the real threat was a natural gas explosion. They didn’t have time to guess which end of the block the ancient lines connected. They heard shouts again, and a victory whoop, when the gas line was finally located, and disconnected.
She wanted to cry, no, she wanted David’s neck between her fingers and thumbs. She wanted this to be a bad dream but, reality was staring at her, and she had no idea what to do about it.
Chapter Four
Gunner wanted to nurse his arm where that damn dog bit him, but the vet said it would just be sore for a few days, and that he was lucky Melvin was only trying to scare him. “Sometimes the little dogs bite and let go, other times they keep it up when they are threatened or you piss them off. You caused the tearing when you jerked him up and he latched on hard to keep from falling.”
When Baron and the rest of the guys finished laughing, they’d helped him clean up and called the vet, otherwise known as Doc, to the club. Baron asked the man to look at Melvin, “Just to make sure his teeth hadn’t been pulled loose.” He gave the little bastard a mint to “get the nasty taste of Gunner” from his mouth too.
Now that he was lying in his bed, thinking about Amelia, Gunner wanted to bust her ass, if for no other reason than being stupid. She couldn’t really believe they would police their Prospects to the point of grounding them when they were naughty, could she? She was going to get a visit from him in a few days and he would try to explain that her brother had defected with his idol, Reeker. He wasn’t the only Prospect that had illusions that weren’t materializing. So far, the members had left the wannabes alone. Some of the members felt bad for Reeker. After all, he was just doing what he’d always done. His lying and the sneaky shit he was doing had gotten him shunned. He was excommunicated from the Breed. Any brother seen talking to him was in serious trouble, and nobody wanted that kind of trouble. Especially when it was the MC’s top dog national president, Wolfman, who had issued the edict.
This time he’d been caught in the act by a living witness, a very believable witness. Since it was now confirmed that Reeker and his group were drugged and fried with it, the worse it looked on biker’s period. The Breed might need to eliminate the problem altogether. Wolfman had insinuated their district had gone soft, but he couldn’t see everything that they did either, and they liked it that way.
It was a daily struggle to follow the policies of Wolfman, and balance them with the club’s original charter. The man didn’t mind pissing in someone else’s yard, neighbor or not. In his position, the yards and neighbors were always changing, so he didn’t have to live in the same community year after year. Raising hell and establishing yourselves as kings of your territory was one thing, destroying the community your kids went to school was entirely different.
The past month had been a bitch for the home base here. Wolfman was running the circuit because there had been talk of replacing him. He figured he was going to make an example out of the defectors. Wolfy should have checked his back pockets before pulling the President of their club into his entourage. War aka Ward Hines, was not the run of the mill psychopath that Wolfman surrounded himself with. Until the night of the meeting with the Bastards MC, he had been the local Prez. Now Baron was. Whoever had put his name up on the radar as a bodyguard for Wolfman, had to have known that War would not take the shit that Wolfman was famous for spreading around. They were all waiting to hear what the outcome would be.
Leaving Reeker alive had been a mistake. The kind of mistakes Wolfman had been doing a lot of lately. Jarl and his buddy, Mule, had been Nomads under Wolfman’s direction. They had done some stupid shit, and got caught. And, like most rabid dogs, their owner had to put them down. How they got to Reeker and five other club members had never been established, but War was ready to take care of them himself when Wolfman showed up. Three years, it had taken three years to get enough information for a sanctioned action, and suddenly the old boy shows up on their doorstep. Something wasn’t right, hopefully War would get to the bottom of it.
He fell asleep thinking about a pretty blonde with a prissy demeanor and a warm mouth.
*****
Waking up was a process for him. He had to get the morning business taken care of and as he was towel drying his hair, there was a knock on his door. He ignored the knock as he poured a cup of coffee into his favorite mug. When the person didn't go away, he jerked the door open.
John Handy was on the other side of the door and his heavy fist was raised to hit the door again. He lowered his arm and stepped inside. Gunner shrugged his shoulders, and shut the door behind his morning guest. “What’s up?”
“I’m taking a leave to go hunting. I just wanted you to know that you need to find someone to cover my time for a while.” He went into the kitchen area of the studio apartment and poured himself a cup of the mud Gunner called coffee.
“I got a call from Jimmy Wilson last night to pick up a vandalized car downtown. When I got there and saw the car,” John shook his head and rubbed his face with both hands. “You know that old '71 Dodge with the 340 Auto that comes in for routine oil changes and stuff?”
Gunner thought for a minute, and nodded his head. That car was a particular favorite of John’s, he had one back in the day, and he had good memories of the times. John took care of most of the older classic style cars that came in.
“Someone vandalized the survivor?” That was sacrilege.
John nodded and explained the extent of the damages. “If we can find the parts it will be a miracle. Anyway, I got her on the rollback, and while I was talking with Jimmy, he got a call about a fire and ran like hell for his car. The owner of the car was with him, and I thought it was kind of strange that he’d take someone on an emergency call like that, so I followed him.” He took a large swallow of coffee and continued his tale. “The fire was downtown, and I pulled in behind the cruiser. The woman wanted to get out and Jimmy made her stay put, even threatened to put her in the cage if she didn’t stay in the car. It turns out that her brother is the one who beat the shit out of the car, and Jimmy is pretty certain he’s the one who firebombed the building too. The fucker already gave the woman shit the night before, and whatever she did to set him off, he has a hard-on to hurt her where it counts.
“When Jimmy mentioned they had been busy every night for the last week or so from violent shit happening, he let it slip that some punks were trying to start a new generation of biker thugs in the area. I know he was feeding me information, but we have been good for this town, so he figures we can help with the problem.”
He finished his coffee and stood.
“I can see being pissed at your sister, I have one of them, and she is a nagging bitch at times, but no matter how pissed she makes me, I wo
uldn’t vandalize her property like this little bastard has done. She couldn’t even go home to her apartment. They know where she lives and spray painted threats on the car and her apartment door. Jimmy wouldn’t let her get out of the car at the complex. He figured they might be watching, and try to reach out and touch her with firepower of a different kind this time. As far as I know, she slept at the station. I told Jimmy that I would see what I can find out about them.
“I wanted to let you know what I’ll be doing so you can get one of the others to cover my shifts.” He nodded his head again and headed for the door.
“Hang on a minute, John. You are not gonna believe this, but she showed up at the club yesterday bitching at Baron and me about her brother. She blames the Breed for allowing him to fall in with Reeker, and the drugs the kid is taking are our fault too. She is a snotty little twitch, but I agree, no one deserves to be shit on by her own brother like that. Grab another cup while I get dressed, and we’ll roust Baron and a few of the others. This has gone way past a druggie looking for a handout from his sister.”
*****
Baron wasn’t happy about walking into the police station. He’d tried to talk someone else into going, but no one volunteered. Knowing Oscar and Jimmy, she wouldn’t be allowed to leave with another woman, so Myrtle was out too. Leech, Irish, and Chaucer waited with the bikes in the parking lot.
He’d been sleeping this morning when the bikes roared into his peaceful slumbers, and Melvin had begun to jump on him to get him out of bed. He’d no more than thrown on his jeans when the pounding on his door started and voices could be heard through the open window of his bedroom.
Gunner and Chaucer stood back and let the newest member of the group beat on Baron’s door, they knew what would happen as soon as he stepped a foot over the threshold. Sure enough, the smiling man of seconds ago went sailing backwards out of the door he’d walked through. Gator landed on the dirt packed path, and he sat up holding his jaw, with a bewildered look on his face.
Chaucer leaned down and gave him a hand up. “Rule number one, don’t beat on Baron’s door more than twice, it makes him cranky if he has to hurry to make you stop. That love tap was to make sure you don't forget next time.”
Gator was the last man to enter the house. Gunner grinned at him and shook his head. “Dumbass, next time wait a few before beating on a door. You were lucky it was Baron, Dino and Vern answer the door with a sawed off. Rebel and several others have pit bulls and shepherds. Even Myrtle has a damn Siamese cat that will slit your carotid artery if he gets to your neck.”
John explained the evening’s happenings, and someone handed Baron a mug of coffee. He looked up and saw his benefactor was Preacher, and he thanked him.
“So, let me get this straight. John wants to hunt down this kid because he vandalized a classic car, and as a side note, to add sweetness to the hunt, for the good of the community. Gunner thinks we should shelter the sister, the sister I might add, that blames us for her brother’s drug use, and expects us to ground his ass and send him into rehab.”
All ten heads nodded. “Okay, we go hunting.”
Gator cleared his throat and asked for permission to speak. Most of the new Brothers who were still on a probationary status like he was, were too timid to speak up in a crowded room. He was more nervous not to. “I got this vibe two days ago from Lloyd. He was asking questions that I couldn’t answer, mainly because I really don’t know anything about a bag of yellow bling. That’s what he called it. He said someone had the bag, and if I was to see it, he would split it with me. Then he started asking who to see about scoring some meth.” He cleared his throat again, “I uh, I told him that the only guy I knew that was into shit like that was named Reeker, but he wasn’t in the club anymore. We were having a few beers, and he kept asking questions, you know?”
Preacher smacked the younger man on the shoulder. “Boy, you did good. I might have to put you up for a vote sooner than we thought.” He looked at Baron and got the nod. “You just keep being dumb. We’re all a bunch of innocent sons-a-bitches, and don’t you forget it...”
Melvin came through the room with something in his jaws. His short legs were eating up the run-through into the kitchen, and he came back through the room still running his little legs off. While the men talked strategy to capture the wannabes, he made his circuit three more times. It wasn’t until Leech went to refill his coffee mug that anyone actually paid attention to Melvin’s odd behavior. All they could hear was the man’s laughter. Everyone trouped into the kitchen and had to stifle their own amusement while Baron began to curse.
Melvin was standing guard over four kittens at his food dish. He had one side of his teeth bared toward Leech. The kittens didn’t know what to do with the medium sized chunks of dog chow, and were mewling pitifully in hunger. It was obvious the kittens hadn’t been fed in a while. One was actually swaying where it stood.
Melvin would only let Baron and Burger near the kittens while Fester and Jake raided the fridge for milk and an egg to stir together and warm for a few seconds in the microwave. Gunner called Doc.
Burger kept dipping his finger in the egg and milk mixture and tapping the tip of his finger to the tip of each kitten’s nose. They licked the wetness off, and once they learned the offending stuff tasted like food they opened their little mouths, looking for more. Baron handed kittens to Fester and Jake to help feed the little creatures, while he went to finish dressing for the day. Melvin sat on the bed watching him.
“You are ruining your rep, Mel, what kind of a badass fucker takes in half dead strays like that. All I can say is don’t make a habit of it. One day you’re tearing up Gunner’s arm and the next you rescue a litter of kittens, I’m beginning to think you’re bipolar or something.” He sighed and put the little guy’s cut on him. “We’re not keeping them here, man, I have enough to do to keep you and me taken care of. I don’t have time to mess with those furballs. Tell you what, we’ll take them to the club and Myrtle can take care of them, that sound okay to you?”
Melvin didn’t have much to say but he trotted out of the room, and stayed by his side until they mounted up for the ride to the club. He watched each kitten being stuffed into the shirts of four men and seemed satisfied they were being treated well.
The club’s bitches made a big fuss over the multi-colored kittens while Doc checked them out. They were given antibiotics and one of the women took off for the store to buy litter and supplies.
Baron asked for volunteers to go fetch Amy, and the men scattered like roaches when the lights flipped on. He was lucky to snag the three that he did. “Bunch of chicken shit fuckers, I see how you are.”
*****
Oscar Lime was sitting at the front desk in the small office, and Amy was leafing through an old magazine. The poor old man was tickled to see someone walk through the door. Baron sat in the visitor’s chair, slumping and chatting with the chief for a few minutes before getting to the point of his visit.
“I know some of what’s been happening around here, I’m here to tell you that me and the club will be happy to help in any way we can to turn those troublemakers over to you. We have feelers out, and we will keep you in the loop if we get any good information. We can’t have shit like they’re doing, going around in our town.”
Amy listened to the conversation. The big man sure had the police chief wrapped up. He seemed to be agreeing to anything the biker said. She stopped wondering what he would look like without clothes when she heard her name mentioned.
“As soon as Gus gets back from taking statements about the robbery down by the highway, we plan to escort Miss Selters to her apartment so she can be comfortable while we look for her brother and his cohorts. I admit to being nervous leaving her there, but we don’t have the budget for a safe house or an extra officer to stay with her, and she has been nagging the hell out of me to let her go home.”
It irritated her, the way these men spoke about her circumstances. Her mother and the Judge
were cruising in the Bahamas, or she could have called them to help her with the problems David was causing her.
Oscar leaned forward to whisper, “They left a dead cat on the stoop of her apartment and threatening words spray painted on the wall. She’s meat if she goes back there.”
Baron came over to her and told her to get her purse. “Why? The officers will take me home, you heard the chief, they will patrol often, and I will keep the doors locked.” There, she told him, she stood up for herself. He needed to know she wasn’t some shrinking violet. At five seven, and a hundred sixty pounds, she wasn’t a small woman, but standing in front of him, made her feel almost tiny. He had to be a foot taller than she was, and his shoulders and arms were thickly muscled. If he was a skinny man, she wouldn’t be so attracted, or so she told herself. Remembering the other men at the group’s hangout caused her to lie to herself about that. Four of them could have made her sigh if it had been in different circumstances that they’d met. Baron or his friend, Gunner, would have been her first choices, if she’d had to choose.
Chapter Five
“Look, lady, it’s like this, you blame the Breed for your brother’s actions, we blame Reeker. You are a target. We have voted, you are coming with me to the clubhouse. You’ll be safe there, and it will give us a chance to find the little bastard and his mentor. Once the cops have him, we are done, so don’t expect anything more than that from us. Get your shit and let’s go. I have things to do.”
Her “shit” consisted of her purse. She didn’t even have a change of underwear, and she wasn’t going anywhere with him voluntarily. She shook her head no, but that had no effect on him other than to give her a narrowed eyed look and she couldn’t believe it when he jerked his head at the chief and the man got up and left the room. Baron grabbed her arm, pulling her to her feet, and she found herself over his shoulder heading toward the door. She kicked her feet and pushed herself up on the wide perch, but got a hard smack on her thigh for her trouble. She tried again, and got a harder smack on her ass. She grabbed a hunk of his thick hair and gave it a hard yank. “Let me go you overgrown Yeti, I don’t need you to take me anywhere.”