Page 2 of The Loves We Lost

We jump on our bikes and head home.

The Iron Outlaws clubhouse has never looked so good as when we arrive back the following day. I mean, it’s still a long squat building, painted black, with iron railings topped with barbed wire surrounding it, but it’s my second home and contains my chosen family.

The bank of gleaming chrome lined up outside tells me that many of my brothers are here, and while I’m looking forward toseeing them, I need a fuck, a shower, and a nap in that order. A long ride is good for the soul but tough on the body.

I pull up my bike, glad to be home in New Jersey. It’s June in the Garden State, and it’s hot. Summer is coming in fast. I feel broiled alive in my leathers, but I value keeping my skin on my bones in the event of a crash. I’ve witnessed how hard my best friend, Niro, has worked at his rehab to recover from his wipeout when we rode to save his old lady, Catalina, formerly an assassin for the Los Reyes motorcycle club. It’s made me rethink my road safety.

Niro and I now share enforcer duties.

My lower back aches as I climb off my bike and remove my helmet. Sweat drips down my forehead, and my naturally blond hair feels damp as I slick it back, away from my face.

“I need a beer,” I announce. “Some shade. And someone to suck my dick.”

“Same,” Halo pronounces.

Switch groans and reaches to touch his toes. “Whose idea was it to do a thirteen-hour stretch?”

“I think it was yours when you shook me at three a.m. and said you couldn’t sleep on a lumpy mattress, princess,” I reply.

“I’m too fucking tired to ride to my house,” Switch says. “So yes, beer, hopefully pussy, and then I’m gonna sleep like the dead in my room here.”

I check my watch. Four in the afternoon. “Wonder which of the girls are kicking around. Dibs on Penny if she’s in.”

Halo grumbles. “Bastard. Fine. Let’s go see if King’s in first.”

The clubhouse is mercifully cool as we step inside, but I’m disappointed to not see any of the club girls.

Instead, the old ladies sit over on the opposite side of the bar. They’ve all got a copy of the same book on their lap, in their hands, or on the table in front of them. And they’re laughingtheir asses off. Rae, our president’s old lady, notices the three of us and waves.

I smile at her and then see King, the club president, in his office.

“How was Dallas?” King asks as we step in.

Switch drops into his seat at the table. “They got a good setup. The lot outside Fort Worth will serve them and us well.”

“You got ’em straight on building their business?” King asks me.

“Yup. We went through security, defenses, and shit,” I say.

Halo takes off his leather jacket. “Switch walked them through emergency triage and set up a medical station within the clubhouse. Told ’em to try and prospect some guys from any of the medic corps.”

“Good deal. Thanks for that run. Now that Vex is back on his feet, I’m thinking we should attack the Righteous Brotherhood head-on.”

“He’s back?” I ask.

King tips his head at Switch. “Signed him off to be back full-time. He’s in his pantry updating shit.”

Vex is a tech wizard making the most of a small space, his computer setup crammed in what was once a big pantry at the back of the kitchen. No one knows why he decided to set up his tech enterprise back there. It just evolved over time.

“Good news.” While I’ve seen our tech genius as he’s been recovering, the gunshot wounds did some serious damage, and I’ve missed him on runs.

“Did you get any intel?” King asks.

Halo shakes his head. “Guy was hard-core, willing to die. Could tell after ten minutes, we weren’t going to get anything. Then Bates lived up to his name. He won’t be telling anyone we called.”

King grins. “Every fucking time.”

I shrug. “Happen to like knives and dead racists. It’s my good fortune they go together nicely.”