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As I ride off, I vow to make this weekend memorable. Who knows what shit awaits us when we get back.
30
Taylor
When we arrive at Savage Hell, the bar owned by the Huntsville chapter, we’re greeted by their president, Savage, and another member, Roadkill. The men exchange manly hugs, which I find to be a bit of a turn-on.
Before meeting Carson and Lina, I’d never been around a motorcycle club. Truth is, I’ve never been around too many people. The loyalty and camaraderie between the brothers is inspiring, and I love seeing it.
“Ladies, just make yourselves at home,” Savage says and motions for Mason and the guys to follow him.
“I’ll see you in a bit.” Munsey kisses my cheek before leaving.
“Okay, I need details. What’s going on between you and Munsey? Are the two of you a thing now?” Allie asks, perching on a barstool.
“I guess.”
“What do you mean, ‘you guess’?” Sloan teases. “I knew that shit was coming. You see the way he looks at you?”
I smile, my cheeks flaming red. “I care about him a lot. I tried giving him time.”
“Apparently, you gave him just the right amount,” Allie says. “I’m glad to see you both happy. Now, if we can get this Harvester person, we can all move on with our lives and stop worrying when the next attack on the club will be.”
“Is that a common thing? What happened?”
Allie shakes her head. “No. I mean, the club has enemies, but in all the time I’ve been around them, we’ve never been attacked on our own grounds. Our enemies still have a level of respect for us. What they did, attacking knowing there were non-club members there, showed a lack of respect and overall humanity.”
Those characteristics sound familiar. My mother respected no one, and to say she lacked humanity would be an understatement.
“I think my mother might be involved somehow,” I confess. “She’s back in town. She’s, um, staying with your uncle.”
Sloan’s eyes go wide. “She’s with Owen?”
“I don’t think it’s anything like that, but yes, she was at the Fallen Eagles’ clubhouse. Mason knows. Crap, I don’t know if I should even be talking about this.”
Mason didn’t tell me not to, but it’s possible he doesn’t want me saying anything until he can handle it.
“Don’t worry about that. The guys have their code, but we have ours, too. We’re a team. We look out for each other. We won’t say anything to get you into trouble with the club.”
“I appreciate that.”
The women have their own club. The Royal Harlots MC. They don’t wear cuts the way the men do. They all wear black onyx necklaces. When I was attacked, they gave me one. I haven’t taken it off since.
As much as the men would kill for the Harlots, they would do the same. I’m lucky enough to call them both family, and I pray I don’t lose another member.
31
Munsey
Isit back, listening to Mason and Savage talk. Yes, they’re having trafficking issues too, but their enemy is a group called the Ghosts. What’s crazy is that some MC’s do this themselves. Take people and sell them to the highest bidder. Yeah, we deal in illegal weapons, but we don’t sell humans.
“Munsey here thinks our issue is personal,” Mason says. “They attacked our clubhouse. Burnt that motherfucker to the ground with people inside.”
Savage glances at the burn scars peeking out from my shirt. He gives Mason a nod. “A personal vendetta would make more sense than a random attack or retaliation. Can you think of any enemies you might have that would literally bring the fight to your doorstep?”
“We took down the Souls of Satan MC some time back. They were involved in this trafficking ring. We thought they were running it, but they were working for The Harvester,” Hunter explains. “We’ve dealt with some fallout for that but nothing that would warrant the attack on the clubhouse.”
“Some enemies don’t have morals,” I say. “This one sure as hell doesn’t.”
