Scarred Asphalt

by Blue Remy

  Sitting up, she took the envelope from him, then ran her fingers over the top of it tenderly. Her mood was now somber as she lifted her eyes to look at Dalton, who was gazing at her expectantly.

  “Because of you, I get to open the envelope my parents left me.” Thorne smiled nervously at Dalton.

  “I didn’t do shit. That was all you, babe.”

  Thorne rolled her eyes and slid her finger under the corner tab of the envelope, gently tearing the envelope open. Looking inside, Thorne blinked in confusion.

  “What?” Dalton frowned, reaching out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

  Turning the envelope over, she emptied the contents in her hand. A gold ring in the shape of a diamond with the number thirteen in it tumbled out onto her hand. Looking inside, she reached in with her fingers and slid out a white sheet of paper with cursive writing scrawled across the page. After opening the letter, she read it out loud.

  “Roberto ‘Vacaro’ Lopez, Road Captain, 1993 – 2010. FSSF. Espina – Now that you are reading this letter, I can only assume that you have become everything you have ever dreamed about becoming. I cannot tell you enough at how proud your mother and I are of you. You strived to better yourself in ways that most girls never dreamt of, and knowing you, you’d made it all happen. I know there were times when you begged me to stay home and I couldn’t. Now you know why. Not only did I have our family to protect, but my brothers as well. Being a part of something greater gives a man purpose in his life, just like the day you were born and I held your tiny body close, afraid of what the future would hold for you. I know I kept that part of my life a secret and separate from my private life, but never doubt the pride I had to be a part of a loyal brotherhood that takes care of their own. I want you to wear this ring proud. It was the only other ring I wore besides my wedding band. I struggled long and hard to get this ring, and achieving your goal of becoming a swimsuit model is just as worthy as this ring. Always strive to be the best, we know that you always will be the shining star that will be the brightest in our family. If there is ever a doubt about who your family is, look to the SixGuns. They will take you into their fold and never let you go, always protecting you and being there when no one else can. I love you, Espina. Your father.”

  Taking in a deep breath, she looked at the ring once more, then up to Dalton. “I don’t get it.” She didn’t ever recall seeing her father wearing a cut, or for that matter, the ring. She knew he rode though.

  Dalton licked his lips and leaned back into the pillows. “Your dad was a member of the club, babe.”

  “No he wasn’t.” Thorne frowned as she looked back to the ring then to Dalton.

  “He was one of the originals. He kept club separate from his private life, and did it well. That’s his ring that he earned when he became an officer. Now it’s yours.”

  Curling up her legs under her, she stared at the ring in total awe. “I never knew. Hawkeye never said a word. Why wouldn’t he tell me or the family?”

  “Most of the guys don’t. Maggie knew, but I think she knew what was in the envelope, that’s why she never said anything. I’m only guessing though. Plus, he is telling you everything I’ve been trying to drill into that pretty little head of yours. We’ll always be there for you, to protect you or to hold your hand through anything you’re going through.”

  “Wow.” Thorne didn’t know what to say as she slid the ring onto her thumb. “I’m speechless.” She wiped a stray tear from her eye with a sniffle. “He was always a hero in my eyes. Now more so than ever.”

  “Be proud of your dad, he was a great man, Thorne, just like you. He was a SixGun and you’re a SixGun’s ol’ lady.”

  Thorne giggled as she leaned in and brushed her lips lightly across his. “I’ll be your ol’ lady as long as you want me to.”

  “Forever is sounding pretty damn good right now.”

  Setting the envelope and ring on the night stand, Thorne moved to straddle his lap, rubbing the tip of her nose against his. “Forever is a long time, Apollo.”

  “Love knows no boundaries or time, Thorne, and trust me, babe, we’ve got all the time in the world.”

  Epilogue

  Saber was bustin’ ass, rolling hard to make it to his boy’s game on time. Los Berros Canyon Road was quiet and not heavily traveled by the CHP. He probably should have taken the 101, but since the game was at the Arroyo Grande High School, the back way was the easiest and quickest way there.

  The Sporty was revved hot and it felt like his nut sac was roasting from the heat that radiated off the engine, but the bitch was flying.

  Letting go of the clutch grip, Saber glanced at his watch through his helmet face-shield. He had ten minutes to get there.

  Fuck.

  Opening up the throttle, Saber urged the biker faster in the direction of the school, the bike handling beautifully as he leaned through the turns, scraping metal. He had promised Dallas that he would be there on time to watch his first pitch, and he damn well planned on making it. He had never broken a promise to his son, and tonight wouldn’t be the start of doing so.

  “What the fuck?” Saber muttered as he caught movement in his left rearview mirror. A black van was in the on-coming traffic lane, trying to pass him. He was already doing thirty over the speed limit, and this dumb asshole wanted to pass? Go right on ahead.

  Slowing down a bit to let the jerk pass, Saber lifted up his hand and gave the one-fingered greeting as they pulled up beside him.

  Guess that was a mistake.

  The van swerved into Saber, forcing him to jerk the bike to the right and almost lose control of the machine. “What the fuck!”

  Not like they could hear him with the full-face helmet on. The van swerved again, forcing Saber to lock up the brakes and go into a slide. The ass end of the bike started bucking and sliding out from under him.

  The only thought that raced through Saber’s mind before he hit pavement was, This is gonna fucking hurt.

  And it did.

  Saber somersaulted on the asphalt, feeling tiny pieces of rock piercing the jeans and shredding what skin he had on his legs. The palms of his hands were on fire as he tumbled ass over heels, his head bouncing like a ball inside the helmet. He could hear the sound of crunching metal, then scraping as the bike skidded across the black gravel, coming to a stop a few hundred yards later.

  When he finally quit rolling and slammed to a stop, Saber was barely conscious enough to assess what damage had been done to his person. He could feel his left leg burning, but was unable to move it. Broken. His head was pounding and his vision was clouded.

  That was until he heard running feet, then felt someone yanking at his helmet. “Don’t—don’t take it off,” Saber groaned to whoever it was that continued to yank on his helmet. His medical instinct had kicked in, knowing the danger he would face if that helmet came off before his neck was braced.

  Saber struggled to yell, but it only came out as a whisper as the hands pulled his head free of the helmet. If he had a neck injury, he’d be fucked for sure now with as much movement as they had caused.

  Blinking rapidly, trying to get his eyes to focus, all he saw was black. Men in black.

  Men in black with baseball bats and tire irons.

  Fuck.

  Before Saber lost consciousness from the injuries that were dealt him, he noted one face in particular: Muerte.

  * * * *

  Romeo sat at the bar in the clubhouse laughing at the antics of Wraith describing what it was like taking his niece hunting with him.

  “I swear I’ll never be able to shoot a fucking deer again after she cried out that I was killing Bambi.”

  “Oh man, I bet that was epic. I couldn’t do it either. No way.” Talon shook his head, laughing in unison with the boys.

  Romeo was about to reply about Rebel and guns when the door to the clubhouse opened. All heads turned to watch a single figure walk in.

  Wraith snarled as he moved his giant body out of his chair
with a swiftness that belied his height and weight. “You got a lot of fucking nerve to walk your bony ass up in here.”

  Janus gulped as he looked up defiantly at Wraith. “Now isn’t the time.”

  Romeo’s brows shot up as the pipsqueak talked shit to Wraith. “By all rights, you walked into our territory, Janus. What the fuck do you want?”

  “I was sent to bring you this.” Janus lifted up a large brown manila envelope and set it on the bar. “Muerte wants you to watch it and take notes.” He backed up a few steps, tongue darting out over his lips. “They want you to know that it’s not over.”

  Romeo reached out and snatched up the envelope as the traitorous fuckwad ran out the door. Ripping it open, he reached in and pulled out a DVD. “Chapel room, now.”

  Wraith, Axe, Hawkeye, Mace, and Talon gathered around Romeo and the computer as he cracked open the DVD titled “Another One Bites The Dust”. Setting it into the DVD drive, he pushed the door button and listened as it swished closed, a cold hand gripping at his heart.

  He had a bad feeling about this.

  A very bad feeling.

  “Oh, fuck me.” Romeo groaned in pain as a video of Saber on Apollo’s bike came up on the computer monitor.

  What happened next was not something any man should witness that cared about his family and brothers the way these men did.

  A van roared up next to Saber, swerving in his path, gunmetal grey with no license plate. Go figure. Keeping the bike under control, Saber was not so lucky the second time.

  Witnessing your brother wreck, watching the bike parts flying and sparks igniting on the asphalt as it tumbled and skid across the pavement, was not something one could mentally handle. His head bounced off the pavement like a ball, his body flopping around like a ragdoll as he tumbled to a stop.

  Five men jumped out of the van, the cameraman following their movements with precision. Saber was broken as he laid there bleeding from his femoral artery, the bone sticking out through his jeans, a puddle of blood growing under him.

  Saber weakly struggled with the masked man who looked like he was trying to decapitate him while he removed Saber’s helmet, the others brandishing baseball bats and tire irons.

  “Are you fucking kidding me? I’m going to fucking kill those mother fuckers,” Wraith choked out, his voice laced with something akin to fear and disgust.

  Talon shook his head and looked away, clearing his throat. “Jesus.”

  Romeo wasn’t sure he wanted to continue to watch what would play out on the video, but forced himself, needing to know if his brother was alive or dead.

  The TG ganged up on Saber like a pack of hungry hyenas. Weapons were swung with a vengeance, no part of Saber’s body safe from the vicious assault. A tire iron swung at his ribs, the sound of cracking bones like thunder in the room as Saber’s garbled cry of pain sent a chill down Romeo’s back.

  Squeezing his eyes shut, Romeo looked away, swallowing down the knot that formed in his throat. They wanted to play hardball. They wanted to make a statement by attacking his sergeant at arms. But why him? Why didn’t they retaliate against one of the children?

  Another yelp of pain forced Romeo to open up his eyes and look back to the screen as a steel-toed boot reared back then swung forward, making contact with Saber’s temple. Then, all too familiar laughter filled the speaker as the camera focused on Muerte as he grabbed the camera from whoever was filming.

  The camera bounced as Muerte walked toward the motionless Saber, the silver tips of his boots visible with each step he took, the taps on his heels echoing in the silence of the video.

  Zip.

  The sound of a zipper lowering was replaced by the visual that none of the brothers wanted to see. He pissed on Saber, laughing the whole time.

  “Take that piece-of-shit cut. A dead man tells no tales,” Muerte ordered one of his minions as he turned the camera to face him. “Who’s the bitch now, cabron?”

  The brother’s watched in horror as the TGMC stripped Saber of his cut, hooked his bike up onto their flatbed, and left Saber laying there in the middle of the road.

  A deep guttural roar filled with something akin to pain and despair erupted from Romeo, forcing him up and out of his seat. No thought was coherent as he tore the computer monitor off the desk and threw it across the room, not giving a fuck as it shattered against the wall.

  Through gritted teeth and tear-filled eyes, he looked at each officer of the SixGun Outlaws, his voice dripping with vengeance and pure unadulterated venom. “He just signed his death warrant. I want the asphalt running red until we know if our brother is alive or dead. Get out a search party now. Hawkeye, get Dallas and Stella to my house and you fucking stay there with Zack.” His hand lashed out and grabbed Hawkeye by the lapels of his cut, yanking him so close, he knew the Latino could smell the hatred on his breath. “I will hold you personally responsible if anything happens to those two while I’m not around.”

  * * * *

  The phone buzzed next to the male, alerting him that he needed to step outside. Wiping his mouth with a napkin, he offered a wry smile and politely excused himself from the table. Stepping out into the night, he noted the way the sun blazed across the night’s sky, lighting it up in muted pinks and oranges.

  Sliding his thumb across the screen of his phone, he lifted it up to his ear, not saying a word. He just listened to the man on the other end.

  “It’s done. They’re going to declare war. If they don’t, I’ll be very surprised. The sergeant is out of commission, they’re vulnerable right now. The first reaction will be to fight back. I’ll keep you posted as I know more.”

  The line went silent.

  Placing the phone back into his pocket, he turned his frown upside down and headed back into the restaurant with the pseudo-smile he’d gotten very accustomed to wearing as of late. Plucking the napkin up from his chair, he sat back down. “Now, where were we?”

  ###

  If you enjoyed reading this book, I would be grateful if you would support my work by posting a review on Amazon. I read every review personally so I can get your feedback and make my writing even better.

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  Thank you again for your support!

  Blue Remy

  About the Author

  Having survived a tragedy, California native Blue Remy, who now resides in the hub of the South, brings an authenticity to her novels that can only come from personal experiences and the heartbreak of being a man's property and ol' lady with intimate knowledge of what women have to struggle with in everyday club life.

  Remy writes books that cross over genres and grip male and female fans with their combination of gritty MC realism and romance. She secretly indulges addictions of coffee, cupcakes, collection of boots, and anything Wonder Woman. Blue is an active supporter of the WWP, and the Motorcycle Safety Foundation.

  Please visit Blue Remy online

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  Hit the pavement running…

  Get your copy of Twisted Asphalt: Book 1 of the Asphalt Outlaw Series here!

  Acknowledgments

  Devil Dolls ACTIVATE!!!! Cannot say thank you enough to my girls. You know just how to push and never sugar coat anything. Jay, Tamra, Missy, Belinda, Lexi, Carrie and Crissy, I love you gals.

  Les, you are amazeballs … you make me think and become the best that I can be when writing. I owe you big time. Just hope I can provide ;-)

  Bloggers unite! Cannot say thank you enough to the bloggers and reviewers who take the time out of their busy schedul
es and do things for us authors. Without you, we’d struggle and be in hell. So, thank you, thank you, thank you!!!

  James, yeah, you’re in here. Deal with it. You pushed me when I was down and out and having bad cases of writer’s block. You listened and gave suggestions when I needed it the most. I tolerate you ;-)

  No, Tammie … I saved you for last, cause well … You’re the shiz. Cannot think of any other way to put it without offending anyone. You are what best friends, PAs, and soul sisters are made of. Stay Gold, Lil C.