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“That’s a possibility.”
A loud rumble had both of them breathing a sigh of relieve as a pair of motorcycles crested the ridge of the highway.
* * *
It tookeverything in Onyx to not drag Topaz into the middle of the road and toss her on the back of a bike like a pony express horse. Instead, he took Topaz’s hand in his and squeezed.
“Thank the lord,” he said as relief washed down his back. Never in a thousand years would he have thought the sight of Freaky and Mountain rolling into town would bring him joy. He grabbed Topaz’s hand, squeezed and repeated the praise. “Thank the lord.”
Stepping away, she headed toward the street. Lifting her hand, she flagged the two bikers down as if the men couldn’t pick them out in the one shady place in a town with less buildings than there were houses on his block growing up.
Freaky and Mountain pulled up to them and shut off their bikes. Freaky dismounted, running his fingers through the flop of brown he sported as he walked up to them. “What the hell happened?”
“Fucking ACT UP took us from the alley behind the restaurant…” Onyx paused realizing he had no idea what day of the week it was anymore. “It was at least a day or two ago.”
“You know we have rooms behind the stage right?” Mountain added giving Topaz a wink, sending a hard jolt of jealousy down Onyx’s spine as he dismounted. “Ya all right there Sarah?”
Now the jealousy hit a level higher than he wanted to admit as he glanced over to her. Mountain had patched over after the take down of the Roadkillers in Berrington. The man was one of two men larger than Onyx, the other being Hollywood. But Hollywood only had an inch on him. Mountain on the other hand earned his name honestly at nearly six-ten and well over three fifty the bearded lumberjack was accepting his extended prospect status for now. But Onyx wasn’t sure if he wanted to be the one to kick his ass out, he’d seen him rack two-twenty-five about thirty times in the makeshift weight room at the clubhouse. There were professional linemen that couldn’t do that.
“Just words for me, Mountain,” she replied and glanced at Onyx. “Onyx took the brunt of it.”
“They held us in a cabin,” Onyx continued using every ounce of self-restraint to not pull Topaz into his arms, bend her over with a deep ass kiss and point to the men afterward. Freaky wasn’t the issue. The man was halfway down an aisle with Dreamer. Mountain on the other hand, that might take a discussion. Hopefully, Red had the drugs necessary to get him back to as close to a hundred percent as possible and to make it a fair fight. “We escaped and called. Now get us the fuck out of here please.”
Onyx didn’t feel like they needed a debrief. They wouldn’t fully understand where he was coming from and chit chat was for the Hoez and Ol’ Ladies. All he wanted was to get back to the clubhouse and plan what they were going to do about this.
“That’s fucked up dude. Are you okay to ride?” Freaky adjusted his leather jacket and zipped it up before looking at him. “You will have to ride with me unless you need a vehicle?”
“We have a truck, but its diesel, almost on E, and smells like ignorance, racism and beer,” Onyx said.
“Fresh air would be better,” Mountain replied as if from experience. “Topaz.”
“If it gets us back to the clubhouse faster I’m good.” Onyx put is bad leg across the bike and sat bitch behind Freaky. It wouldn’t do any good putting a Hoez behind the claimed man when a free one was available. The unspoken rules from the women who wore patches claiming ‘Owner and Operator of’ a man they usually rode behind.
Mountain moved around the side of the café and Freaky shifted in front of Onyx to pull his Glock.
Ice ran down Onyx’s spine unsure if he had the fight in him he needed. Deflated in the fact if he needed a gun it wouldn’t be his, but another man’s he’d be using.
When the man dropped to a knee at the corner of the building, Freaky turned back toward Onyx, both men confused by the randomness of Mountain’s movement. Sure, him on a knee would be eye level to most men, but still.
“Hey there.” The high voice from the man at the bottom of the baritone scale usually had Freaky holstering his gun.
“This motherfucker, every damn time,” Freaky said. “Dude, seriously leave it.”
“Leave what?” Onyx asked leaning forward to see what had caught the man’s attention.
“I don’t know but I’m sure it’s fuzzy with a long tail,” Freaky said as he looked down at the kitten, Mountain was petting. “You know Creature will eat whatever mangy cat you’re trying to wrangle.”
“No she won’t,” he protested, standing with an emaciated kitten silently mewing in his massive hand. Although you could see the cat was white, with gray and orange spots, the white fur looked dingy. “Creature is the gentlest pit you know.”
Freaky shook his head and Onyx had to agree. The man was clearly insane.
Just then, the waitress came out back with a bag of trash, tossing it into a dumpster then turning to see the sight. “You’re still alive?” she asked focusing on the kitten. “Here, I thought you’d gone the way of your siblings.”
“What happened to the others in the litter?” Mountain asked with a five-year-old innocence.
“Trucks blowing down the road got at least two of them. I put out a few bits if I see them, but if I leave it out, then bigger animals come and these guys become the main course.”
“I’m taking—” Mountain lifted the kitten in the air. “Her, she’s coming with us.” The statement fierce in his conviction. “Unless she’s—”
