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“Who else would I be talking about?”
“Shit,” Malcolm Cortez. He used to be the VP of theDevil’s Horde.They’re an MC farther south.
“Well, that was my guy at the prison calling to give us a heads up,” Dom puts his arm around me and speaks in a low voice. “I don’t want Lara knowing about this. I don’t want Chase knowing about it either.”
“Why?”
Dom holds my shoulders and stares at me. “I can’t tell you that just yet, you’re going to have to trust me on this.”
I don’t hesitate, “Of course, you know I do, always.”
“Good,” he turns away and paces, then turns around and calls me to him. “Don’t tellanyone. I need to think. Have Charlie take point on the ride today. Take Lara with you. I’ll be on my cell if you need me.”
Dom walks off leaving me with more questions than answers.
He’s through the door before I can even make sense of what’s happening.I wonder what he’s not telling me?
I know that Dom hates Malcolm, but he’s never told any of us why exactly. All I know is that the day he went off to prison, Dom got shitfaced in the clubhouse and made a toast wishing for Malcolm to rot in hell.
I go back to the table and say, “Charlie, you’re front of the pack today. Dom said he’s got some stuff to take care of.”
“Sure,” Charlie is a burly son-of-a-bitch with gray mutton-chops. This club is his life and he’s been here the longest—because he’s the oldest.
His kutte is filthy enough to testify to that. Lara once offered to wash it for him but he wouldn’t have it.
He stands and says, “Well, let’s saddle up boys, time to ride.”
Casey, Matt and Fletch have taken everything into the kitchen—their version of ‘help’ is moving things from one place to another.
I squeeze Lara’s shoulder, “Ride with me today?”
“Okay,” she gives me a big smile.
Last week she went with Nick. We decided on that together. We didn’t want people thinking she was sticking to me more than normal.
As we all start walking to the parking lot, Lara and I somehow end up holding hands. We only realize it when Nick gives us a squinty look.
She immediately jerks away from me, “What? I didn’t do anything!” She sounds way too guilty to believe.
I laugh. Nick laughs too and shakes his head.
I hand her the helmet we bought for her—it’s pink—and we mount up.
The roar of our engines as we start up sounds like the rolling thunder of a storm more powerful than anything you can imagine!
My Harley Fat-boy has a tone that’s unmistakable. I fell in love with it when Arnold Schwarzenegger rode one inTerminator 2.
I feel Lara squeeze me from the back. She’s not holding on so much as she’s cuddling me—It makes me smile.
Charlie waves his hand in the air and we all head out, following behind him.
This is what we live for.
It’s a powerful feeling. This is where we come alive.
The ride.
Chapter Nine
