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He revved his throttle and turned his attention to the line waiting to pull out. A moment later, the bikes roared to life as the line began to move. When Ghost hit the on-ramp, he twisted his head and yelled over his shoulder, “Hold the fuck on.”
She tightened her arms around his waist, and he gunned the throttle. She felt the bike surge forward beneath her. When they reached the top of the ramp, Ghost and the brother to his left eased over in synchronization as if they’d been doing this maneuver for years. Which, she supposed they had.
The wind surged over her, and she watched the landscape soar by.
It was the most thrilling experience of her life. She’d never been on a bike before, except for one time when she’d begged her brother, Tommy, to give her a ride on his dirt bike. He’d refused, but later that afternoon, after her brother had gone to a dentist appointment with their mom, Ghost had sneaked her a ride to the end of the block and back. She remembered holding him tight. He’d been just a boy, then. It was a whole different story holding on to the muscled man he was now.
She smiled, resting her cheek against his back, recalling the memory. A moment later she felt his left hand settle over her thigh just above her knee and give her a reassuring pat and squeeze. It was almost as if he was letting her know he was happy she was on the back of his bike.
And she couldn’t stop a strange feeling from running through her that maybe, just maybe, this was where she’d always belonged. It had just taken her a long roundabout way to get here. But she was here now. Finally.
Five hundred long miles later, the club pulled up to the clubhouse of the Omaha, Nebraska Chapter, and their hosts for the night. Surprisingly, it was an unassuming, large clapboard two-story building that looked like it was built around the turn of the last century. It was buried back in an old neighborhood on the corner of a tiny side street that ended in a dead-end that butted up against the rail yards. As they rolled up on the corner, Jessie looked up at the side of the building. There were four windows on the second floor, each one covered with a banner with a different letter that spelled out: E D M C. It didn’t take her long to figure out that stood for Evil Dead Motorcycle Club.
The windows on the first floor wer
e bricked up with glass blocks. There was one entrance on the side, and some type of warning sign was posted on it, but they rolled by too quickly for her to read what it said.
They rolled around the corner, and she got a look at the front of the building. Two narrow windows up top had vertical banners covering them from the inside. One read, Evil. The other read, Dead.
On the ground floor, on either side of the main entrance were two big windows, each covered with a flag of the Evil Dead logo.
As her eyes scanned the building, she also noticed cameras mounted up high in several locations as well as security floodlights. There was a big, newer addition on the right that didn’t have a single window, just a door. There was also a six-foot high wooden privacy fence with a gate.
The bikes began backing to the curb and parking in a line that extended all the way to the dead-end and back up the other side of the street. Ghost and the man riding next to him maneuvered into a spot. When he stopped, she scrambled off quickly, and he rested the bike on its kickstand, climbing off himself.
Ghost and his brothers took a moment to stretch, some lighting up smokes before they began to head through the gate and bleed into the large compound.
Jessie moaned as she stretched and rubbed her sore ass.
Ghost grinned. “You sore, brat?”
“Uh, we did just ride all day, so yeah, I’m a little sore.”
Ghost chuckled, took her hand and led her inside the compound. She immediately noticed a large group of women waiting to greet the Omaha Chapter back like returning conquering heroes.
There was hugging and kissing and drinks passed around.
She soon found herself pressed against Ghost’s side, tucked under his arm, with a beer in her hand, standing among a group of his brothers. There was food cooking on several grills, and tables laden with food. The ol’ ladies obviously took care of their men, as well as all the visiting chapters. With no time wasted, the party started cranking up, and even though the men had to be tired from the ride in, it didn’t seem to slow them down in the least.
Jessie took it all in, watching the interactions between the men. But it was the women that fascinated her. Some openly stared at her, some with suspicion that bordered on hostility, some with just curiosity. She couldn’t stop herself from asking Ghost about it.
“Why are they staring at me?”
Ghost’s eyes followed the direction of her eyes.
“They’re wondering who the hell you are, and why you rode in with the club when they all know the annual run to Sturgis is for the club only, no ol’ ladies invited.”
“Should I be worried? Are they going to hassle me?” She knew they questioned why she was there. But apparently they knew better than to ask.
“Naw, since you didn’t show up with anybody from their chapter, they’ll pretty much let it go.” Ghost nodded in the direction of one of the meaner looking ol’ ladies. “Now if you had ridden in on the back of her ol’ man’s bike it’d be a different story.”
Jessie looked up at Ghost and saw the teasing twinkle in his eyes.
“Good thing I didn’t then, huh?”
He grinned. “Yup.”
Jessie took a sip of her beer, and then the thought crossed her mind that perhaps Ghost had an ol’ lady. Why hadn’t she thought of that? She’d never even considered it. Would she have to stand and watch some woman welcome him home with open arms? She felt her stomach drop at the thought. And even though she was almost afraid to hear the answer, the words came out of her mouth.
