Page 35

Puck

We stood on the roof of an office building out in the middle of an old missile testing site. We’d been there, anxiously watching a faded warehouse, for nearly an hour.

“This is my spot. I can scope out everything from here.” Merc twisted a dial on a set of binoculars that looked like they came straight out of Mission Impossible, pressed them to his eyes, then handed them to his dad. “Jester’s on his way back.”

With my naked eye, I could see the van moving to the gate.

“Never doubted him.” Cam grinned beside me.

“Shit, I did. You gave that mother fucker twenty-four hours to come up with a way in, to scope the place out, and he came back with a way in and an inside man.”

“Inside woman ,” Cam corrected. “What can I say? He’s good at what he does.”

Memories of that night with Jester and Kenna snaked their way in and I was thankful I had on shades. Had it not been for him, I might not have what I have now. Cam was right, it was just what he did.

A few minutes later, the clang of boots on metal heralded Jester’s triumphant return. “Sorry it took so long. Penny does more with that big ass mouth than talk.” His grin was wide and toothy.

Cam rolled his eyes. “Jesus, brother. Did you find out anything useful?”

“Ghost was on the money with it. The warehouse will be closed when the delivery is made, and Penny is the last one to lock up. She’ll leave the side door open for us, that the only people who stay late are the manager and the janitor.

I saw the manager, that’s an easy take down.

Ghost confirmed it was just one old guy they dealt with. ”

“When does the buyer come in?” AP asked, lighting a cigar and puffing acrid smoke into the air.

“Early the next morning, Penny says a gray van swoops in twice a week right as her shift starts.”

“All we need is a distraction.” But Cam was smiling in that way that told me he was about to fuck all sorts of shit up. “I’ve got Gunnar and Ivan coming up from White Pines. Time to teach Black Challenger a lesson.”

“Kick around Jerry Wayne’s son, and he won’t be wondering why his crew is late getting back.”

“Exactly.”

And from there, we hashed out the details.

Jester, AP, Dekes, and Merc would take the van and disrupt Jerry Wayne’s delivery.

The rest of us would make nuisances of ourselves.

Whatever Cam had cooking for that was getting him all amped up.

Savage was loyal to the core, but the man was a fucking chaos gremlin.

I’d need to convince Kenna to watch Eli. Not that it would take much convincing.

“So?” Jester stayed behind, blocking my path, as the rest of them took the stairs.

He was an annoying bastard when he wanted to be, and currently he stood between me and all the dirty things I wanted to do to my woman.

“What?” I walked almost right into him and would have shouldered past him had it not have knocked him backward down the steps.

“You take her off the market?”

I snorted, kicked his shin with the side of my boot, and started down the stairs when he finally moved. “She was never listed.”

His laugh rang out from the roof. “Brother, it’s about god-damn time you admitted that shit.”

At our bikes, I let myself enjoy the fact that she was mine. That there was actually someone out there I wanted to share my life with.

“Now make it official, before one of these horny fucks gets his ass beat for overstepping.”

I grinned big. “I sort of hope one of them does.”

“Me too, brother.” He winked and fired up his bike.

Nothing like a good brawl to get the blood pumping in the clubhouse. But he was right. I needed to make it official. Kenna deserved that.

***

Gunnar and Ivan arrived several hours before the big show. The giant diesel Ford truck rolled into the parking lot, pulling a hulking yellow machine on a trailer. Ivan, former president of White Pines, followed on his chrome Harley that glistened as much as his bald head.

An exuberant blond guy I didn’t know jumped from the passenger seat with a hoot that echoed across the desert.

Cam caught him midair with a back slapping, hard as hell hug.

Savage had always had stronger ties with other charters.

It was these guys that would have voted his way had he decided to go NOMAD after Archer’s death.

I couldn’t help but snort a laugh, their joy contagious despite the serious nature of the day.

“You aren’t running this place yet?” Ivan climbed off his bike and was instantly caught in a headlock as Cam rapped his knuckles over the bald head.

“Nah, AP’s got this shit locked down.” He released Ivan with a shrug as Gunnar came around the front of the rig.

Cam lit a cigarette and grinned around a long drag as Ivan introduced us. “Cam, Puck, Drop Top, and for today’s shenanigans Band Aid and Pork Chop.”

Chop still sported a limp and some bruises but was still salivating for vengeance.

“This is the last prospect I sponsored at White Pines, Romeo, and you know Gunnar.”

Romeo was fitting, as he was as pretty, if not prettier, than Cam had been when he was younger. He shoved some hair behind his right ear and shook our hands.

Gunnar, the current White Pines President, approached with the slow, long strides of a man you didn’t want to fuck with. Definitely one I wanted on my side. He came to me first, with a firm handshake, gold winking at his nose and lip.

“Good to see you, brother.” He’d been in that room with me that night. What he said next wasn’t a shock. “How’s the fairy princess doing?”

“Oh, she’s just fine.” Cam waggled his eyebrows. “Our boy’s been taking real good care of her.”

I cast him a sideways, bored glance. Gunnar watched me with interest.

“She’s doing good.” And I could say that honestly, she was. Whatever haunted her now had less to do with that night and more to do with life in general. At least I’d given her that much.

“Glad to hear it.”

Having that night rehashed was like being stabbed in the chest repeatedly. There was guilt, from what I’d done to what I’d wanted to…until lately. It got easier and easier to think about it. Even when I’d seen her on the side of my truck, fighting mad, I’d gone to a different place.

Less like I had to protect her, and more like I needed to protect them from her. This shit was getting deep.

I followed Gunnar as he twisted his long hair back and climbed onto the flatbed trailer. Cam hopped up behind me to inspect the equipment.

“Looks like a tractor and a bulldozer had a baby.” Not that I knew anything about large equipment, save for Gunnar owned a lot of it.

“Basically. Caterpillar D2, she’ll do everything you’re planning and I can get it in and out quicker than a bigger one.” He smacked the track before hopping down and snatching the short machine gun from Romeo’s hand. “Who the fuck gave him an Uzi?”

“I’m not that bad of a shot.” Romeo winked at me as I hopped down.

Gunnar handed me the machine gun, and I checked its load and held it secure in my right hand. Not my favorite thing to hold. I’d rather get my hands dirty than mow down half the desert. But it was intimidating.

Drop Top was at the back of the old HVAC repair van, handing out hardware from a duffel bag that was as big as he was tall. One of Archer’s arsenals that Cam had stockpiled for the club. Unlike the pistol I’d wear on my belt, none of these would be traceable.

Ivan, sun shining on his bald head making it an angry red color, pulled out a pistol-grip shotgun similar to the one that hung over my back door.

When they looked back at me, I held up the Uzi the kid had. “If I have to use it, y’all better eat sand before I pull the trigger.”

“Brother, I’ll be flopping around like a fucking Gila monster.” Ivan’s toothy smile made me grin. Plus, if he kept it up today, his sunburned head and black leather cut would make him a dead ringer for the lizard.

“You guys have way more fun than we do.” Romeo whistled, taking the Gunnar approved rifle Drop Top handed to him.

“He’s new.” Gunnar and Ivan exchanged an amused look before piling ammo on his chest.

The younger guy balanced the lot and the unloaded rifle with an unperturbed expression. He was still young enough to find this shit fun.

Nah, it wasn’t about age. Pork Chop and Ivan were both amped up and damn near giddy.

But Cam was getting serious now, lighting a cigarette and shrugging off his cut to hang in the clubhouse.

Not long ago, he’d blown Preacher’s brains all over a gravel driveway without blinking.

And he hadn’t been laughing when he’d given the order that had secured my first-class ticket straight to hell.

I stowed my weapon in the van and followed Cam with my cut, hanging it on the peg near his. We would all ride in the back of the van, Drop Top driving…he’d never even waddle out of the driver’s seat.

“You good?” Cam asked me, taking a drag from his cigarette.

“Yeah.” I lifted a shoulder. “Rather be royally fucking shit up than on a roof with Merc watching Jester steal a van.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” The grin he sported as we walked out made me wonder if I was wrong about how much he got off on this shit.

***

On the outskirts of the Bends, small simple houses popped up in rows. We stopped before turning onto a dead-end street where three of those sandy colored houses with rusting tin roofs stood away from the rest.

A dilapidated chain-link fence surrounded all three. In places, the top rail was completely missing and the fence itself sunken or fallen over. Entry wouldn’t be a problem.

By the house farthest from the shared driveway was an old pull-behind RV with the windows blacked out with cardboard and duct tape. It sat on blocks far enough away that if it blew up, the house itself would probably be okay.

Any farther and it would be outside the fence.

A barrel chested, squat pit-bull, chained to a thin tree, watched us lazily.

It wasn’t quite ten am yet, which meant most of the residents weren’t awake yet. So far, we were unseen.