Page 9 of Risk (Mayhem Makers: MMM #3)

CHAPTER

EIGHT

Risk

The more I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, the more restless I become.

Not able to take it anymore, I get redressed, grab my keys, wallet, and cut and march out of the clubhouse.

I swing my leg over my bike and as I’m inserting the key into the ignition, Conan comes out from the shadows, lighting up a cigarette.

“Going for a midnight ride, brother?”

“What are you doing up, VP? I figured you and Demi would have crashed by now.”

“Wrecker called me,” he explains. “Selah’s girls told him that I needed to go with you when you left tonight. So, tell me where we’re going.”

Wrecker, once upon a time, was one of our brothers before he, Dragon, and a few others settled down before the rest of us who rode with them were ready to do the same. Those were good times. We were rowdy and caused mayhem wherever we went.

“Just going for a ride. I don’t have a destination in mind,” I remark.

“But if Selah’s girls are worried, that means I’m going to find trouble, huh?

” Selah is Wrecker’s sister, he and the rest of the men and women they run with have what we call ‘special gifts’.

They seem to hear and know things that are foreign and unbelievable to us norms. It’s beyond my comprehension and I stopped trying to understand it and what they can do a long time ago.

“Seems that way,” Conan replies. “Can’t let you have all the fun without me, now can I? So, what happened today that has you feeling uneasy, Risk?”

“You know that complex on Fifth and Main?” I ask him.

“Yeah. I know the one you’re talking about,” he verifies. “What about it?”

“Saw McKenna standing in a window there,” I convey. “Can’t stop thinking about her. That’s twice I’ve seen her. That can’t be a coincidence, can it?”

“Some would say it’s fate, man,” Conan states. “There’s a reason you two keep bumping into each other.”

I snort before saying, “We haven’t bumped into each other, per se, Conan. Just crossed paths.”

He gives me a serious look, one that says he’s fixing to make a point. “Why do you think that keeps happening, man?”

“Couldn’t say one way or another, brother,” I retort. “But you’re thinking there’s a reason, aren’t you?”

“I am,” he corroborates. “You and Kenna have done everything humanly possible to avoid one another for years. Seeing each other twice in the same month, that’s something to look into if you really want my opinion.”

“I value your input, brother. You’ve never steered me wrong,” I validate. “If you think we need to check up on this current event, then I’m game.”

“I do, Risk. And no matter what the outcome is, I’ve got your back. We all do,” he attests, as a few more of my brothers come out from their hiding places. “Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who got the warning, we were just waiting on you to make your move.”

“Fuck, man,” I say, hanging my head, trying to get my emotions under control. “You’re all coming?”

“We don’t leave one of our own swinging in the wind, brother,” Regulator ascertains. “Where would the fun in that be?”

“Brotherhood is like a marriage, Risk. It’s for better or worse,” Rev adds.

“In sickness and in health,” Hemi tacks on, a smirk on his face.

“Through the good and bad times,” Midas reveals. “And we’ve had plenty of those.”

“That we have,” I say around a chuckle.

“What do you say, ready to commit? Is it time for us to see where the road leads us?” Conan asks, twirling his keyring around his finger.

“The open road has never done us dirty. So yeah, brothers, I’m ready,” I state, booting back the kickstand.

I’m already straddling my bike, so I watch as my brothers swing their legs over their saddles.

We all, in a harmonized synchronization, twist the keys, firing up our bike’s engines.

The rumble of the gravel underneath my feet somewhat nullifies the uneasiness of the night.

I don’t know the cause of what’s made me antsy this evening, but situations from my past have taught me to not ignore it when it rears its ugly head.

The revving of engines as we pull out of the compound has my anxiety soaring instead of settling. The closer we get to McKenna, the worse it becomes.

My instincts have me wanting to shut down my bike once her complex comes into view.

I glance over at Conan and see he’s thinking the same thing.

So, we turn in the opposite direction and go down a couple of blocks before parallel parking on the street.

This is a dead end with no residential homes, the entire block is run down and vacant, the state condemned the buildings and houses a long time ago and forced the occupants to evacuate, so it’s safe to leave our bikes here without us having to worry about them being tampered with or stolen by thieves.

Not even the homeless or vagrants want to be here—there’s a feeling of vast nothingness with a tinge of evil if I had to put a name to the feeling I currently have.

We meet in a huddle where I inquire, “Was I the only one who felt the hair on the back of their necks stand up?”

“No,” Conan mutters, kicking loose pebbles with the toe of his boot. “The second we put eyes on the apartments, every instinct I have went off like a firework display.”

“We need to scope that shit out,” Midas concludes. “Something’s not right.”

“Go incognito?” Regulator proposes.

“We need to split up and cover all sides of that building,” Rev suggests. “My reflexes are shouting that there’s danger coming from more than one direction.”

“She’s being watched,” I utter.

“I think you’re right about that,” Conan agrees. “What has she gotten herself into?”

“That’s something only she can tell us,” I grind out through my teeth. “Whatever it is, I don’t like it.”

“She’s your old lady, Risk. We’ll take our cues from you,” Conan offers. “How do you want to handle this?”

“Divide and conquer,” I relay.

“A casual walk around the block?” Rev inquires. “It’s a nice evening for a stroll.”

“The stars are out tonight,” Midas cackles. “Wanna hold my hand while we name the constellations, Reg?”

“Fucking comedian,” Reg sighs. “Why the fuck not. If anything, it’ll gain their attention.”

“Two badasses in leather holding hands while looking up at the sky? I’d say so,” Conan muses. “I know I wouldn’t be able to take my eyes off you.”

“That’s because you’re twisted and would be wanting a preview of where your warped thoughts go,” Rev teases.

“What can I say? Love is love and you know I support that shit in whatever form it grows,” Conan claims. He’s adamant about everyone staying in their own lane.

He has a childhood friend who was bullied after admitting he is attracted to the same sex.

He does not condone homophobia in any way, he’s a crusader for humanitarian rights—all rights no matter the person’s race, gender, political or religious beliefs.

It’s all the same to him and one of the reasons we respect him and put up with his antics like we do.

His mind is always in the gutter but his heart is in the right place.

“Let’s split up and determine where the danger is to McKenna,” I announce. “There’s five of us, so one of us will have to go out on our own.”

“I volunteer as tribute,” Rev decides. “It’ll be nice to have some breathing room and clear my own head.”

“That works,” I state. “Meet at the back of the units? If you run into trouble, whistle.”

We split up, each taking different routes so that we can cover all areas. Conan comes with me, if anyone can control any outburst from me, it’ll be him. One way or another, he always has my back covered.