by Zoey Parker
“Stay where you are,” he ordered.
“Don’t go telling me what to - ” Brittany stopped talking when she realized that the line had gone dead, Zack had hung up. Her heart fluttered nervously in her chest as she stood up and tentatively approached the window, which overlooked Colridge. She couldn’t see the street outside from her apartment, only the backs of the buildings. She wondered what was going on and why her brother was asking such strange questions. And for a sickening moment she wondered if it had anything to do with what had happened at the bar the previous night.
Chapter Sixty-Nine
Max popped two ibuprofens in his mouth before leaving the grocery store. He was about to make his way back to the motel when he froze. He saw two parked motorcycles outside the closed tattoo parlor across the street. Both of the riders wore leather jackets and looked well-built, but from this distance he couldn’t discern their faces. Inhaling nervously, he stepped back inside the shop, away from view. He watched them from within the safety of the store. He could immediately tell that they were Red Riders members. They had the club’s emblem proudly displayed on their bikes.
“Shit,” Max breathed as he watched them, praying that they’d soon leave. If they saw him he was done for, he was certainly in no state to defend himself. He wished he’d been smart enough to take Will and Henry with him. Colridge was now a pressure cooker on the verge of exploding. Even a stroll down the street could be dangerous.
After a few minutes, the riders pulled off and disappeared down the street. Max wasted no time hurrying off in the opposite direction. He had to get back to the motel and fast.
“They’re here,” he declared as he pushed open the door. Both Henry and Aaron glanced up at him in surprise. They were both freshly showered, which made their wounds seem less dramatic.
“Who is here?” Will asked, wearily rubbing at his eyes.
“Red Riders. I just saw two of their members in town.”
“Well I say we go roll out the welcome wagon for them,” Henry grinned, baring his teeth.
“No,” Max raised a hand of objection at him. “We don’t do anything until we hear from Uncle.”
As if on cue, the telephone in the room began to ring. The three men shared wary glances before Max stepped forward and picked up it, placing the receiver against his ear.
“Hello,” he tried to make himself sound as foreboding as possible.
“Max, that you?” he instantly recognized the craggy old voice of his Uncle Alex.
“Yes, Uncle, it’s me.” Still holding the phone Max lowered himself onto the bed. He could see Henry and Will sharing worried looks.
“You boys did a nice job at that bar last night,” Alex complimented.
“Thanks.” Max’ wounded ear started to throb so he switched sides with the telephone. As he did so, he noticed that it was spotted with his own blood. He might need to consider getting stitches on his cut if it didn’t stop bleeding.
“I think you really stirred up the hornet’s nest there in Colridge,” Alex continued, clearly amused.
“I think so too. I spotted a couple of Red Riders members out on the streets this morning.”
“Good, good. Well then, I need you boys to high-tail it back here as quick as you can.”
Max tightened his grip on the phone. Go back? But why? Going back would mean leaving Brittany. Max closed his eyes in frustration as he recalled how she’d hung up on him. He couldn’t leave without making things right with her. But if he saw her now how would he ever explain his wounds without letting her think he was a monster.
“Come back?” Max choked out the words. “But why? Don’t you need us here in Colridge in case they retaliate?”
“No, I need you back here,” Alex clarified sternly. “There’s a war coming, Max. We need to batten down the hatches and prepare.”
A shudder of fear flew up Max’ spine. He hadn’t intended to start a war. Was that what it was coming to? Pack against pack? Where did Brittany even fit into all that. He couldn’t leave her in Colridge when things were getting so dangerous there.
“I need to bring someone else back with me,” Max stated.
“If it’s that girl you’re fucking, you can think again,” his Uncle replied coldly. Max felt his body tense in shock. He looked over at Henry and Will, expecting to see their guilt-ridden faces, but they were both avoiding his gaze.
“Uncle - ”
“Her brother rides with the Red Riders. Don’t think I don’t know. I know everything, Max. I’ve got eyes everywhere.”
“She doesn’t deserve to get caught up in this,” Max pleaded, feeling panicked.
“I don’t have time to listen to you whine about some girl,” Alex raged. “I need you and the others back here by this evening. We need to start planning how we’re going to ruin the fucking Red Riders once and for all.”
Max swallowed nervously. The rivalry between the two gangs was intense, but never before had one sought to destroy the other.
“War really is coming,” Max realized, tasting bile in his mouth.
“You bet your ass it is,” his uncle swiftly agreed. “And you want to make sure that you’re on the winning side, Max. So be here before sundown. Just the three of you, no stragglers. It’s high time the Skeleton Kings proved that we’re the fucking authority in these parts.”
With a shaking hand, Max lowered the phone back down. Henry and Aaron still refused to meet his gaze.
“I hope you’re both happy,” he addressed them flatly. “We’re going to war with the fucking Riders.”
Chapter Seventy
“This has been a long time coming.” Max listened to his Uncle Alex address the crowded bar. Every available member of the Skeleton Kings had packed inside the flimsy building. The air was thick with sweat and cheap beer.
Max stood towards the back beside Henry and Aaron. His head still throbbed from the wound he’d picked up during the bar fight back in Colridge.
“Too long have the Red Riders taunted us,” his uncle raged to his enraptured audience. Pack members hollered in agreement, raising bottles of beer to the air in a toast. “Too long have they crept into a territory that isn’t fucking theirs.”
“Your Uncle is certainly fired up,” Will whispered quietly to Max. All Max could do was nod stoically in agreement. He had hoped he’d have time to talk to his Uncle, privately, before the entire crew assembled. He wanted to do all he could to discourage his Uncle Alex, from going to war with the Red Riders. But as soon as he pulled into the bar’s parking lot, he knew he was way too late. Almost a hundred motorcycles were lined up outside, glistening in the early morning sunlight, like precious polished toys. All members of the Skeleton Kings were in residence; his Uncle was preparing his troops.
“I like where the old man is coming from,” Henry growled with delight, folding his arms across his chest and leaning back against the wall.
Max said nothing. He continued to gaze over at his Uncle, who was decidedly more animated than usual as he addressed the packed bar.
“I say tonight we show the Riders who really runs things around here!”
People were cheering, salivating at the prospect of spilling blood.
“We’ll run them out of Colridge, out of the state, with their tails between their legs like the pathetic dogs they are!”
“Ooow! Yeah!” men howled like wolves.
Groaning, Max tried to disappear into the shadows of the bar. He couldn’t stop thinking about Brittany, about how his old uncle had known about her all along. Surely, she was now in danger? But he couldn’t go back to her, not at the risk of turning the entire pack against him. They’d tear him apart before he’d made it to his bike. No, he needed to tread carefully, especially now.
Finally, his Uncle dismissed his audience, insisting everyone go home and rest up before the big night. But this dismissal hadn’t included Max, which he realized as he headed for the doors with the others but was promptly pulled back by a strong pair of hands which cla
mped around his shoulders like a vice.
With a sigh of resignation Max stopped and turned around, letting the other members pass around him on their way out, as though he were a rock in a stream. The heavy hands which had stopped him belonged to one of his Uncle’s most favored cronies, a six-foot five rider called Bulldog.
“I don’t get to rest up then,” Max gestured towards the doors which Henry and Will had previously gone through.
“Rest is for the weak,” Uncle Alex waved a dismissive hand through the air as he staggered back to his regular table. All of the confidence and bluster had gone, and he was once again a feeble old man. Still burning with resentment for his Uncle, Max followed him to the table with Bulldog lingering close by, keeping guard.
“I told you we were going to war,” Alex declared with a sinister smile.
“That you did,” Max agreed flatly.
“And I need to keep you here, where I can see you.”
Max squirmed uncomfortably. He felt more like a child than a man, being held captive like this at the bar.
“If I let you leave here, all you’ll do is go and warn that little girl of yours, and there’s no way in hell we're having that.”
Max tensed with anger.
“She’d warn that brother of hers,” Alex continued. Max wanted to correct him, to insist that Brittany was loyal to him first, but he knew that would be a lie. Brittany loved her brother, she’d do all she could to keep him safe. She wouldn’t be the girl he loved if she’d do otherwise.
“She can’t get mixed up in this,” Max tried to sound menacing but knew he was failing. He was exhausted and his wounds were burning, causing his thoughts to fog.
“Someone caught you real good,” Alex nodded at his wound which Max could already feel was bleeding again.
“A guy at the bar had a blade.” Max winced as he spoke, it was starting to hurt to move his mouth.
“We should get that taken care of,” Alex nodded at Bulldog, who left them alone and disappeared off behind the bar.
“I’m fine,” Max insisted tersely.
“You’re not,” Alex shook his head, gazing at his nephew intently. “And I can’t have you in anything less than top form for tonight.”
“Tonight?” Max kept wincing. He felt like something was hammering a jackhammer against his skull. “Why so soon?” he felt almost delirious from the pain.
“We can’t afford to wait,” Alex explained. “The Red Riders will already be mobilizing, and we'd be smart catch them off guard.”
In Bulldog’s place returned a blonde with a heavily lined face. She was carrying a bright red first aid kit, which she dropped down on the table before kneeling down beside Max to scrutinize his wound.
“Ahh,” he protested, pulling away as she fingered around the tender flesh.
“Don’t be a baby,” Alex chastised. Max wanted to retort that it was easy for his uncle to be so dismissive. He couldn’t remember the last time his old uncle had left the safety of the bar.
“It needs stitches,” the blonde didn’t inform Max. Instead, she spoke directly to Alex who nodded his consent.
“Best take you out back to do them,” she was talking to Max now, nudging his shoulder to get him to stand up.
“You’re in good hands with her,” Alex gave a thin smile. “She’ll fix you up as good as new.”
“Come on now,” the blonde was guiding Max through the bar, away from his uncle.
“Don’t knock him out too good,” Alex called after them. “I need him on his feet by tonight.”
Chapter Seventy-One
Brittany jumped at the sudden pounding against her front door. She stood frozen in the middle of her apartment, her cell phone brandished in her hand like some kind of weapon. She wasn’t expecting anyone. Fear rattled in her chest as she listened to the frantic beating of her own heart echoing in her ears.
“Brittany, it’s me, open up.” Zack’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door.
“Zack,” she said striding towards the door, releasing the locks in bewilderment. She thrust open the door to reveal her brother in the hallway, his face tense and pinched. But he wasn’t alone. Brittany glanced at his companion and did her best not to stare at the deep scarring covering half of his face.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she turned back to her brother.
“I don’t have time to argue.” Zack barged past her entering the apartment, his friend close behind.
“And who is this?” Brittany gestured wildly to the stranger. “And did I say you can come in?”
“This is my friend, Jameson. You can trust him.”
Jameson gave Brittany a brisk nod in greeting.
“Trust him?” Brittany pressed her fingers against her temple. “Zack, what’s going on?”
“We don’t have time, Brittany!” Zack came over to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, squeezing slightly. He stared at her hard, willing her to believe in his words.
“I need you to listen to me, Brittany,” he spoke slowly to ensure she understood exactly what he was saying. “You’re in danger here. You need to come back home with me right now.”
“In danger?” Brittany shrugged him off and stepped back. Was this just another of her brother’s attempts to thwart her relationship with Max? If so she certainly wasn’t in the mood for it.
“Brittany, I’m serious,” Zack’s voice was razor sharp. “Max is dangerous.”
“Please,” Brittany scoffed at the suggestion. Max might look menacing, but he wasn’t dangerous. He was caring and kind. And distant. His recent lack of availability pinched at her chest, winding her. Why was he blowing her off all the time? Had he stopped caring about her?
“He’s not dangerous,” she quickly blinked back tears, refusing to let her brother see her cry over Max.
“He is,” Zack insisted, his eyes wild with urgency. “He’s dangerous and you being here, being with him, is putting you in danger. We need to leave. Now. Go and pack up your things.”
Brittany exhaled sharply and placed her hands on her hips. She wasn’t back home, committed to obeying all of Zack’s orders. This was her apartment, which she paid for with her own money. Her brother had no right to storm the place and start giving her orders.
“You’re out of line, Zack.” She told him angrily.
“So help me Brittany, I’ll drag you out of here if I have to. You’re leaving Colridge tonight, with or without your consent.”
“Zack!” she glanced at his scarred friend for support, but he just turned away from her, letting the siblings conduct their argument between themselves.
“Pack, your things, now! Or I will pack for you.” Zack bellowed at her, pointing towards her bedroom door.
“No,” Brittany objected tearfully. Her brother was just trying to drive a wedge between her and Max, she was sure of it. And he was being cruelly heavy-handed about it.
“I promise you that Max is dangerous,” Zack repeated, his voice softening slightly. “That bar that got turned over in town last night, he was responsible for that.”
“How can you say that?” Brittany felt like her brother had smacked her with a whip, and she was still smarting from the wound. Why would he deliver such a vicious lie? There was no way Max could have had anything to do with the fight at the bar. But Zack had successfully planted a seed of doubt in Brittany’s mind. She hadn’t seen Max last night, nor this morning. Was he avoiding her to hide his battered face? He did sound odd on the phone.
Tears beaded in her eyes as she glanced helplessly at her brother, willing him to be wrong.
“He rides with a motorcycle gang called the Skeleton Kings,” Zack continued. “They are a really nasty bunch of guys bred on violence. And they are looking to stir up trouble here in Colridge. Being with Max makes you a target. I’m just trying to keep you safe Brittany.”
A motorcycle gang. The Skeleton Kings. Brittany felt dizzy as she tried to take it all in. She lowered herself onto her sofa and lay he
r shaking hands upon her knees. Zack had to be wrong. He just had to be. But even Nancy had hinted about the danger.
“How do you…how do you know this?” she wondered woefully.
“I just do,” Zack told her vaguely. “Trust me, the Skeleton Kings are trouble, Brittany. Look what they did to Jameson.”
Jameson stepped forward and angled the damaged half of his face up towards the light so that Brittany could take a better look at it.
“The Skeleton Kings - they did that to you?” she gasped, a hand flying up to her mouth.
“Acid,” Jameson explained tightly. “Me and your brother made the mistake of turning up at the wrong bar a few years ago. It was a mistake the Reapers wanted to make sure we wouldn’t repeat again.”