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Not only that, but Leather…it’s hard to imagine the club without her. While I would like to pretend that it would be a lot calmer, I know for a fact that it wouldn’t be. She levels them out, keeps them on their toes and adds just the slightest hint of estrogen that the guys need.
In reality, we need to come up with a better game plan, and fast. My phone vibrates in my pocket, and it’s Tiny on the other line. I do exactly what he did for me, waiting until the last possible moment to answer the phone.
“It would help if you’d tell me where the fuck I’m going,” he grumbles and shouts at his men in the background. I provide details about where their drop was supposed to be, and I also inform them of who I think went to meet the team there. There’s no way for sure to know, but I’m definitely not stupid. He continues to grumble and bitch.
“Just know that this doesn’t make the contract shit go faster.” With that, he ends the call. With the amount of stress slowly starting to stack up against us, I don’t know whether I need to laugh or punch something.
Whistling loudly, it startles most of the guys hanging around the bar. “Church!” I call out, watching them scramble to make their way to the giant conference room that we use for their choice services. Plopping myself onto the barstool, the bartender laughs at me and grabs my usual whiskey. He sends it down the wood, and it lands perfectly in my opened palm. Raising it in salute, I down the contents. Per usual, the burn is soothing and grounding.
Once everyone has filed into the room, I move quickly to follow. Usually, this is when Leather and Knuckles would flank me, but neither of them are here. Even my second in command isn’t here right now.
“Before the rumor mill starts, we need to make some things clear,” I start, hoping like hell that I can get this out in one piece. “As you all know, Leather and a few men went on a mission into the Canadian area to do some scouting. We don’t know all the details, however it is believed the Leather and Tornado were both grabbed.” I won’t tell them my suspicions of Tornado, not without solid proof.
“What can we do to help?” Phisher questions. His laptop lands onto the plastic table loudly, jolting everyone. For some reason, that single movement is enough to push reality back onto me.
“There’s not a ton of details. From what it sounds, they were cut off by a group of bikers. Leather and Tornado rounded them off to let Knuckles and the two prospects leave. They didn’t know the two didn’t follow the group.”
“Let me see if I can find location on her GPS.” His nimble fingers fly across the keyboard. “If we can at least get their last ping…” he trails off, continuing to work.
“What happens now?” One of the guys from the back row grunts.
“We already tried to get to them before it escalated, but by the time the guys got there, the premise had been vacated.” The hole in my chest seems to grow as the reality sinks into me. Once we lose members, we rarely ever get them back. If they are returned…well, let’s just say that they are not usually in one piece.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Knuckles
Ihave never been more anxious about anything as I am right now. If I could go back in time, I would have forced her to go first, forced us to all run as a group. Unless someone has a time machine, we can’t turn back.
“We need to try to get there without making too much noise. We’re going to pull into the other side of the lot and run to where the drop spot was,” I announce down the com.
“What about our defense?” Twelve asks. We move through the streets effortlessly, cutting lanes and going as fast as possible.
“You’ve got your side pieces?”
“Yeah, but we have the drop stuff in the saddle bags. We can’t just ditch them,” Bear retorts, as if I didn’t think about this shit.
“If you’d fucking shut your pie holes, you’d hear the rest of my goddamn plan,” I snap, anger permeating down the mic. “Now, should I wait for commentary or are you both done?”
The light turns yellow right as I hit the crosswalk, but we just cruise through it. Past the point of no return and all that.
“Now, as I was saying,” I start but get cut off by the sound of sirens. Jerking my head to the side, red and blue lights light up the early morning sky. “Fucking hell. Meet me at the drop spot in ten. Go!”
Splitting up, the officer doesn’t go with them. He stays on my ass.
“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” I mutter. Still in range with the guys, they laugh at my expense.
“Your plate was down,” one of them garbles before the line breaks off. Pulling onto the side of the road, I look over my shoulder and watch as he pulls right up on my ass. His door opens, and he takes several steps in my direction. I take off. Opening the throttle, I leave him behind me. My speed accelerates quickly, gaining from zero to ninety in mere seconds. Thankfully, my plate is a fake, but that means it’s a use for identifying, and we just came through the border.
The cop drops back as I fly between cars in the morning traffic that’s quickly building. I don’t think I have ever been so grateful for other people as I am right now. Reaching a light, there’s another cop waiting for me. His lights are already rolling, and I don’t hesitate to push my bike to its limit.
Wind crashes against my body as I fight to keep hold of the bike. The two officers give chase, following me diligently through the traffic. Passing through lanes of traffic and intersections, they continue to ride my ass. I know there’s some bullshit law about speeding with motorcycles, yet they don’t let up. I’m almost certain that one of them is going to try to do the pit maneuver and throw me off the damn bike.
I don’t have time to think about another plan. Leather is most likely in danger, and I’m getting chased by the police.
“Siri, dial Prez,” I command, waiting for my phone to listen. It takes a few moments for it to come through. It dials for a few moments before I get sent to leave a voice message. “Fuck. Redial.” Again, voice mail.
The line goes dead.
