by Sarah Bale
Neither acknowledge me and I go back to the bar. My pulse pounds in my ears. Psycho and his brother are out to get the club? And the FBI? Fuck. But, does Agent Hill know about Psycho and his brother?
I send him a text and get a reply right away. Looks like I’m meeting him tomorrow.
Agent Hill is waiting for me at a coffee shop on the opposite end of town from where we usually meet.
“Ms. Mayhem.”
I sit across from him.
“Agent Hill, are you aware that another club has been targeting the Devil’s Regents?”
His eyebrow lifts. “I can’t say that it surprises me.”
“Did your other informant not tell you? It’s been the talk of everyone the last few days, especially since it involves a member of the club and his brother.”
“No, I had not heard this information.”
“And why is that, Agent Hill? Why hasn’t your informant told you something so big?” I shake my head. “When I told you about the first run being sabotaged, I thought you were involved. That you, or someone you work with, told the Inferno Bastards where they were going to be that night.”
“As I’ve already said, that’s not something we would have done.”
“I see that now, Agent Hill. But if it’s not you or your men, then could it possibly be your other source inside the club?”
“She’s given us no reason to not trust her.”
She!
“But, it’s possible, mainly when you consider that she hasn’t told you about the other club.” I inhale. “What if she’s playing both sides? Telling you just enough to satisfy you, but telling them more.”
“And why would she do that? She’s being well compensated for her troubles. When she’s finished with the Devil’s Regents, she will have a new life where no one can find her.”
I let out a small laugh. “A pipedream, Agent Hill. We both know that no one gets a fresh start. Not really.”
“What is it you’d like me to do, Ms. Mayhem?”
“Tell me her name. I’ll keep an eye on her. If she’s working both sides, she’s going to get sloppy.”
“No.”
“Please, Agent Hill. I… I can’t sit by and let someone hurt these men.”
His eyebrow lifts. “It would seem you’re too close to these thugs to see them for what they really are. They aren’t the good guys. And, if another club or one of their own is out to get them, there’s a reason for it. You’ve been there for a month now. I’ve been watching them for years. You don’t know them, Ms. Mayhem.”
But I do.
“Agent Hill, with all due respect, it’s you who doesn’t know them. They are good guys.”
“I wonder if you would say that if you weren’t having sex with two of the club officers.” He eyes me. “And I wonder if they would still want you if they knew your past. What you’ve done and what’s been done to you.”
His words are meant to hurt, but they don’t. Instead, they piss me off. I’ve dealt with men like this my entire life and I’m tired of it.
“Fuck you, Agent Hill. I was fucking raped. That was not my fault.”
He opens his mouth, but I’m on a roll.
“And if you threaten me again, you’re going to regret it.”
“Is that so?”
I nod. “If they’re as bad as you’re saying they are, imagine what they’d do if they knew you were blackmailing me, among other things.” I stand. “We’re done here.”
I leave the coffee shop, ignoring him calling my name.
I’m through being the victim. It’s time to take things back into my own hands. That means changing a few things. I pass a trash can and toss the fancy phone Agent Hill gave me. It probably has a tracking device in it, anyway. My next stop is to my phone carrier store. I tell them a little sob story about a fake ex and walk out twenty minutes later with a new phone and a new number.
The first app I install is Uber. When my car comes, I head back to the club. The second part of my plan is going to be tricky, but I have faith it’ll work. I mean, it has to.
23
Saint
I look around, making sure everyone is ready to go. The rally is a day’s ride from here and it’s going to be hot as hell. I grin. I can’t wait.
Jesus comes over, map in hand. “The route is locked. We’ll be meeting up with the Alabama chapter in about six hours. From there, we’ll let them lead.”
“You sure you’re good to ride?”
“Fuck yeah, I am. This bruise ain’t going to stop me.”
I feel that in my soul.
“Mama Bear’s in the truck. If you need to stop, let her know. There’s plenty of room to haul your bike, if needed.”
This isn’t anything out of the ordinary for a run this big. Things happen on the road. Bikes break. People get tired. The weather works against us. It’s best to be prepared. But, for me, this is heaven. I haven’t been on the road in a long time, not like this at least.
I go to my bike, giving it one last look over. Everything seems good, so I grab my helmet. Back in the day, I used to ride without one. Thought it was a waste of time and made me look like a tool. Over the years, I’ve seen too many brothers crack their skulls open on the pavement and got over how I looked while wearing one.
I’m about to put it on when soft laughter fills the air, like little bells. Looking over, I see Olivia standing next to Razor and Bash’s bikes. They are in the process of playing rock, paper, scissors, and she’s clearly tickled.
King taps my arm with his helmet. “Come on. Jesus is ready.”
“Yeah.”
Tearing my gaze from Olivia, I buckle my helmet and get on my bike. Jesus starts his bike, taking off. As Road Captain, he’s set the course for the journey, and I get to sit back and ride. King and I take off next, and the sound of the other bikes starting fills the air. We have a few traveling in RVs and a few trucks with campers. It’s mostly for the women and the old timers who can’t spend all day on a bike.
Jesus gets on the highway and we take off. Even with my helmet on, the sun warms my skin and the wind blows in my face. It’s fucking heaven. I rev my engine and King and I go faster. Fucking freedom, that’s what this is.
Olivia
I hold onto Razor’s waist as we get on the highway. There’s got to be at least a hundred bikes in front of us. Bash rides next to us. Every once in a while, he looks over, grinning. He lost the game he and Razor played to see who I’d ride with first, but he was a good sport about it. But, when we stop for the first break, I’m going to switch to his bike. He even put the sissy bar on for me, to make it easier on my back.
We ride in the fast lane, in groups of twos, passing vehicle after vehicle. At one point, we pass a minivan where two boys excitedly point and wave at us. Razor and I wave back as we pass and they bounce in their seats. The sun shines down and white clouds move in the blue sky. Today is simply perfect.
But, a few hours into the ride, my ass is asleep and my lower back is killing me. I’m about to tap Razor’s shoulder and tell him I can’t take anymore when the bikes ahead of us exit the highway. Thank freaking god.
We come to a stop at a gas station that looks like it’s seen better days. But, there’s a large gravel parking lot to the side that’s big enough for all the bikes to park. I’m guessing that’s why we’re stopping here. Bash parks next to us and gets off, rushing to help me. I’m going to refuse his hand at first, but the moment my leg touches the ground, I know I’m fucked.
“Oww,” I say, pulling my shorts out of my butt before stretching my legs. “Why in the hell does that hurt so much?”
“You’re not used to riding. And Razor didn’t make it comfortable for you.”
Razor flips off Bash as he gets off his bike and says, “Sorry, babe. I didn’t even think about adding the sissy bar.”
“You’ll be more comfortable on my bike, but if you’re in too much pain you can always ride in the truck.”
Most of the whores are in th
e truck, except for Jas, who’s riding with a Prospect. She certainly moved on fast. Or maybe it’s so she can get information.
Bash hands me a water bottle and says, “Better go to the bathroom here. The next stop isn’t for another hour. And drink all of that. I don’t want you to get dehydrated.”
“Are you her dad or her boyfriend?” Razor asks with a smirk.
Bash tosses him a water bottle, too. Razor shakes his head, but downs the entire bottle. I do the same, already feeling better.
“Are y’all going to the bathroom?”
Razor shakes his head. “This place only has two stalls. The guys will just take a piss out here and leave the bathroom to the ladies.”
“Well, I’m going to go in. Do you need any snacks? Sunscreen?”
Razor flashes me a smile. “Grab some condoms.”
King, who is passing by, calls out, “Extra small, I’m sure.”
I snort and go inside the gas station. There’s an older man working at the counter and he’s talking excitedly and animatedly to Saint.
“It really means a lot that the Devil’s Regents still stop by. No one in town believes me.”
Saint smiles, and it takes my breath away.
“Well, Toby, you’ve always done right by my boys and me. We thank you for allowing us to stop by.”
“Can I get you your usual?”
Saint nods and the man goes into a small room. When he comes back, he hands a sack to Saint.
“Made sure they were fresh and everything.”
“Thank you, Toby.”
He hands him some cash.
“This is too much-”
“I insist.” Saint smiles. “I hear you’ve got another grandbaby on the way.”
“Why, I certainly do. Thank you, Saint. Thank you so much.”
Saint moves from the counter and catches me watching.
“He seems nice.”
“He is. My father started doing business with him about fifty years ago. I’ll keep doing the same until he’s gone.”
“I have to know, what’s in the sack?”
He holds it open. “The best saltwater taffy you’ll ever have. Go on, try a piece.”
I grab one, popping it in my mouth. “Oh wow. This is so good.”
“Toby makes it on the side.”
“I approve.”
He smiles and then asks, “You doing okay out there? I know these rides can be hell for the passengers.”
“My back’s a little sore.”
“Take some ibuprofen. It’ll help.”
As ridiculous as it is, this is the most he’s talked to me in weeks. It’s nice and I don’t want it to end.
“Bash said there’s going to be more bikers joining our group in a few hours?”
“Yeah. Our Alabama chapter will meet up with us as we ride north. It’s always good to see them.”
“What happens at the rallies?” At his look, I say, “Bash and Razor both said they can’t explain it, that I’ll just have to see for myself.”
“They’re not wrong. This is the biggest regional rally in this area. There’s going to be thousands of bikers from different clubs across the country. Any and everything goes.”
For some reason, this makes me shiver in anticipation. The bell over the door chimes as someone else comes in. He looks over my shoulder and I know I’m about to lose him.
“Don’t forget that ibuprofen.”
“Saint. Wait.”
He stops.
“It’s good to see you.”
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “It’s good to see you, too.”
I go to the bathroom, locking the door behind me before the first tear falls from my eyes. I don’t know how to fix this void between us and it’s killing me. Maybe, once again, I’m so fucked up that all I cause is pain. If that’s the case, then it’s only a matter of time before I hurt Bash and Razor, too.
We ride until late in the day. Bash’s bike is a little more comfortable than Razor’s, but by the time we get to Mississippi, I’m ready to get off the bike. Our group has tripled in size, making quite the statement as we travel. As the sun goes down and the sky turns different shades of pink and orange, we pull off the highway.
Bash calls out over his shoulder, “We’re getting close.”
I learned six hours ago that close doesn’t mean shit, but at least there’s an end in sight. We ride for nearly two more hours, before turning onto a dirt road. Ahead, there’s a chain-link fence that stands over eight feet tall. Two men stand at the gate as we ride through. They’re wearing cuts with a different logo on them, but I don’t get a good look. When I look over my shoulder, I realize that the fence and gate are covered in camouflaged tarps, so no one can look in.
We ride through trees and the farther we go, the bumpier the road gets. I hold onto Bash’s waist as the bike dips into a big rut in the ground. But, there’s suddenly a clearing in front of us and I see thousands of men and women walking around. We ride past them, and Bash waves at a few as we pass.
One man yells out, “Bout fucking time you pussies got here!” But he’s grinning.
We finally come to a stop in a secluded area. There’s not a soul in sight. Some of the Prospects park, pulling down flags with the club’s logo on them.
We stop and I get off first. Bash follows, and rubs his hands up and down my back, massaging my tender muscles. When he rubs my inner thighs, I moan.
“That feel so good.”
“Keep moaning like that and I’ll be too distracted to set up our tent.”
I grin. “You have magic fingers, Bash. I can’t help that.”
Razor, who’s close enough to hear, says, “And I have the magic dick. We make quite the pair, the three of us.”
My gaze goes toward Saint, who’s directing people where to go.
“Yeah. Quite the pairing.”
Bash and Razor get to work setting up our tent. They asked before we left if I wanted to rough it or sleep in a camper. I didn’t tell them, but I’ve never been camping before, just that I wanted to rough it. I’ve been assured that if it gets to be too miserable, there will be a camper I can stay in if I decide I hate it.
Bash holds open the flap of the tent. “What do you think?”
I peek in. “Looks cozy.”
Razor wraps his arms around my waist. “Nothing like tent sex.”
I turn. “How’s that going to work with the three of us in one space?”
“I’m sure we can work something out, sugar.”
I brush my lips against his. “I hope so.”
Someone calls out his name and he lets out a groan.
“Duty calls but hold that thought.”
He gives me one last kiss before taking off, slapping a man on his back.
I look around, taking in everything. There are mini groups set up here and there across the grassy field, probably other clubs, like ours. People mingle, drinks in hand. The skunky scent of weed fills the air, but it is somehow soothing in the twilight. The cicadas sing their songs and the humid air surrounds me like a thick blanket.
King comes over and asks, “Want to take a look around?”
“Sure.”
As we walk, he says, “I wouldn’t recommend going off on your own.”
“Why not?”
He nods his head toward a group of men who are obviously intoxicated. “Not at night. The later it gets, the wilder things become.”
He takes me around, showing me where the public bathrooms are.
“I’d suggest using one of the campers. The public stalls will be nasty by the end of the rally.”
A woman’s throaty moans fills the air from the bathrooms.
King grins. “Plus, it’s a nice little private place for a quick fuck.”
Heat spreads throughout my body. “Oh?”
“You’ll see -and hear- a lot of that as the night goes on.”
As if to prove his point, the woman in the bathroom cries out, proclaiming to all that she�
��s coming.
I snort as we walk away.
“The big bonfire is over there. It’s where the live music takes place, too.”
“What exactly is the point of a rally?”
He grins. “The club presidents say it’s a way for the clubs to keep in touch. That may be true for them, but for everyone else it’s a chance to let loose.”
I think of the Inferno Bastards and asks, “Even with rival clubs here?”
“We try to put aside our differences for the week. Of course, booze and bikers are never a good combination, so shit happens. That’s why some of the clubs have reserved areas. We don’t go into their turf and they don’t come into ours.”
“Makes sense.”
He points. “We don’t go that way. Understand?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
“Well, now that you’ve seen the general layout, is there anything you want to do? Booze? Drugs? Fucking?”
The bonfire makes his eyes glow, as if he’s some kind of supernatural being.
I let out a short laugh. “That’s a loaded question, I’m afraid.”
“Oh? Why’s that?”
“Because I’m trying so very hard to be good.”
He leans in. “Where’s the fun in that?”
Maybe it’s the smoke from the bonfire or the smoke from the weed, but I lean in, too.
“You make it hard to be good, King.”
His arm snakes around my waist, his head dipping. Hot breath hits my neck and then my ear.
“I saw the website, Olivia. Fucking hot as hell.”
This makes my eyes open, heart pounding. But, there’s no judgement in his eyes.
“You still doing it?”
“No. I haven’t had to, not since Razor and Bash.”
He pulls me closer, drowning me in his heady scent. “Good.”
Our lips brush and then I can’t take it anymore. I crush my lips against his, kissing him until there’s no air left in my lungs. His fingers work through my hair, holding me in place as he kisses me back. I thought I was a good kisser, but King – god damn, King puts my skills to shame. He walks me backward until my back is pressed against a tree. With one hand, he holds my wrists above my head, his knee pressed between my legs. I grind against him shamelessly, loving the wildness of what we’re doing.
