by Chiah Wilder
“Good. When the fuckers go in to steal the money, get them, and call me. I wanna be the first to take a crack at them. Now that I remember, Chigger, Tugs, and Hoss did time in the pen for safe cracking. They robbed some banks and stores in towns in Nebraska and northern Colorado. I bet it’s them. Fuck, they stayed with me and Grace when they’d come to Pinewood. How could I forget about the safe-cracking shit? Damn, I’m getting soft.”
Hawk chuckled. “You’re not soft. You didn’t think of it because it never crossed your mind that your long-time brothers would betray you. Hell, you were tight with them before they even met Dustin.”
“Yeah, I’m the one who introduced them all to each other, gave them the charter in Kilson to run. Fuck. I shoulda killed Dustin when I had the chance.”
“Tonight, you can do it vicariously.”
Hawk and Banger laughed.
Soon, it would be a showdown.
* * *
The family dinner was in full force out in the yard, and Banger could hear the squeals of laughter from the children as he slipped in through the back door into the club. It was pretty quiet inside since everyone was outside eating, drinking, throwing horseshoes, and listening to classic rock pumping from the speakers.
Banger had each of the brothers in on the setup circulate in the yard, so as not to cause suspicion. His jaw tightened as he went into the back room where the video equipment was set up. It caused him pain and frustration to think that a brother would betray the club, and it was even worse to think it was a brother and a friend. Each member should be able to trust the others with their lives, but he knew shit like this happened when greed, power, and revenge were involved. Each brother knew before they joined what happened to snitches—a slow, painful death.
Two hours later, nightfall crept in, covering the lightness of the blue sky and swallowing the shadows with its encroaching darkness. The brightly colored lanterns the old ladies had strung along the tall, steel fence danced in the gentle breeze. Banger knew time was running out. Soon, the breeze would turn cold, and the women, children, and brothers would make their way into the clubhouse. If the window of opportunity were lost, they’d have to keep a vigil until the fuckers were caught.
Hawk slipped into the room, along with Rock and Axe. “Anything?” Hawk asked.
Banger shook his head. Then out from the shadows, a figure appeared, tentatively taking steps as he jerked his head around, as if to see if anyone had followed him in. The infrared recording devices clearly showed Tug’s face. Banger’s heart became stone. Part of him was relieved that it was only one traitor, but that was still one too many. They waited for him to crack open the safe—Hawk had changed the combination to an easy one for the setup—take out the marked money, stuff it in a backpack, and walk out.
“Let’s roll, we got a motherfuckin’ snitch to kill,” Banger said icily.
They split up, with a couple going out into the yard, a couple staying in the clubhouse, and Rock and Axe checking out the parking lot. Banger’s phone pinged.
Axe: We caught the fucker trying to take off on his bike. We got him in the hole.
Banger: I’m there in five.
Nodding at Hawk, they took off and met up with Axe, Rock, Bear, and Chas. When they entered the hole—a concrete room built under the barn on the property—Tug was trussed up and hanging from a low beam, his face bloodied. Banger jerked his head to Rock, who promptly lowered the snitch. When Banger was face to face with him, he spat in Tug’s face. “You piece of shit!” He threw a full punch into Tug’s belly and the man gasped and gaped for air, like a fish out of water. “Dustin and Shack put you up to this, didn’t they? You fucking sonofabitch!” Banger punched him again, that time more viciously, all his rage and hurt contained in that one punch. Tug coughed up blood. Banger walked away from the hanging man, saying to the others, “Find out who else was in on this. I know the fucker wasn’t acting alone. I’ll be back.” He walked out, closing the steel doors behind him.
A couple of hours later, he went back to the room and saw Tug covered in blood with lacerations all over his body, strategically placed to cause pain but not lead to a quick death. Rock was smeared in blood from the waist up. He turned to Banger and said, “The fucker admitted he worked with Dustin and Shack, but the others who joined with him weren’t involved. Seems like his loyalty has always been with the motherfuckers you threw outta the Insurgents. He was sent here to get money to fund the Demon Riders.”
Banger jutted his chin out, his muscles tense and rigid. He blamed himself for all this, despite what Hawk said. He’d let friendship get in the way of what was best for the club, and he swore to himself he’d never let it happen again. “He’s got an Insurgents back tattoo. Burn it off.”
Rock nodded and picked up the blowtorch in the corner of the room. Members who’d been in the Insurgents for ten years or more earned the right to have the club’s logo tattooed on their backs. If a member snitched, the customary punishment among one-percenters was to burn off the club’s logo. Rock approached Tug, who weakly held up his head when he heard the blowtorch ignite. With fear in his eyes, he shuddered, then drew his last breath. Rock stood with the canister in his hands. “Lucky sonofabitch,” he said.
“Yeah. Clean up and make sure he’s never found,” Banger ordered.
In silence, he and Hawk trudged back to the clubhouse, the moonlight splashing down on the ground illuminating their way back. A heaviness weighed on them. Killing a brother, even a snitch, was always difficult.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
On Saturday, Banger went over to Belle’s house. He’d told her he was taking her and the kids to Burgers & Beer Joint for dinner. When he arrived, Belle was sitting on the porch on a lawn chair as Ethan ran toward him.
“Wow, your motorcycle is so cool. Can I go for a ride?” He ran his small hands over the chrome and leather, wrapping his fingers around the handlebars.
Belle came over and Banger hooked his arm around her waist, pulling her close and kissing her. “How are you?” he asked as he squeezed her.
“Great… now.” She pressed herself closer to him.
Fuck, she feels good in my arms. And the way she smells gives me a hard-on all the time.
“Can Banger take me for a ride, Mom? Please?”
Belle looked at Banger, and he could see the fear and concern in her eyes. “It’s your call, babe. I’ll be real careful with him. Just take him around a few blocks, that’s all.”
“Please?” Ethan said again.
Belle sighed. “Okay, but you have to hold on real tight, and only three blocks.” She shifted her eyes to Banger’s. “Okay?”
“Yep, got it. Come on, kid, I’ll help you on.” Banger settled a very happy and excited Ethan on the seat. Then he started the bike and they were off.
He went slowly so Ethan could savor the short ride. The small arms around Banger’s waist reminded him of when he used to take Kylie for spins around the neighborhood, with a fretful Grace waiting on the front lawn as Belle did now for her son.
He rounded the corner and parked in front of the house, Belle standing in the same place she’d been when they’d left fifteen minutes before. He’d actually taken Ethan around five blocks, but he knew Belle would forgive him since her son had the biggest, goofiest grin he’d ever seen.
Banger helped Ethan off the bike, and he chattered incessantly to his mom about how much fun it was, and how he felt like he was part of the wind. It was fun listening to him, as it reminded Banger of how he felt when he’d first rode on his uncle’s bike when he was eight years old. That first ride hooked him for life, and he couldn’t wait until he was old enough to buy his own bike.
“Did you say ‘thank you’ to Banger?” Belle asked as Ethan started to run up the walk.
“Thanks. I had fun.” Ethan turned to his mom. “Can I go again?”
“We’ll see. Go wash your hands and tell your sister we’re ready to go out to dinner.”
Ethan dashed up the stairs
and ran into the house, the screen door banging behind him. Banger placed his hands on Belle’s hips and guided her to his bike, pushing her back so she leaned against it. “You know what I want to do to you on my bike?” he whispered in her ear as he nibbled it.
“What?”
“Peel off your clothes, lay you on the seat, and lick every inch of you before I taste your pussy.” He gently bit her lobe.
“Then what?”
“Then I’ll spread you wide and put my cock right up your sweet cunt.” He nipped her neck, moving toward her shoulder.
“You do like to talk dirty,” she said.
“You inspire me, babe.” He placed his hand behind her head and pushed her face toward his.
She laughed. “That was pretty cheesy.”
“What do you want? I’m not a fuckin’ poet.” He covered her mouth with his. Every time he kissed her was like the first time. He loved tasting her, and gliding his hands over her soft, sexy body.
The creaking screen door made her break away from him, and he cursed inwardly. He’d love to take her back to his place and make love to her, but he knew that wouldn’t be possible. She didn’t want him to spend the night because of her kids, and he understood that; it may be awkward for her if her kids heard her screaming her brains out. Each time they made love, she’d scream so loud he’d considered wearing ear plugs, but he didn’t think it would sit well with her.
Ethan and Emily went over to their mother’s Honda. Banger held out his hand. “Give me the keys, I’ll drive.” She handed them to him, and soon they were on their way to the Insurgents’ burger joint.
While they enjoyed their meal, Ethan did most of the talking, and Belle kept sliding her foot up and down Banger’s leg, driving him wild. If she didn’t stop being so wickedly sexy, he’d have to haul her off to her cramped Honda and fuck her good and hard while the kids ate dessert.
The waitress came over and cleared their plates, asking if they wanted anything else. Belle and Banger decided to share the cheesecake with strawberries while Emily chose a chocolate sundae, and Ethan picked a scoop of vanilla ice cream.
They were almost finished when a guy around twenty years old came up to the table, glaring at Emily.
“Why the fuck don’t you pick up your phone?”
Emily glanced at him and took a sip of water. “You need to go away.”
“Why aren’t you answering my calls or texts?” he demanded.
“‘Cause I don’t want to talk to you. Easy to figure out, Chad. Duh.”
Belle said, “You’re disturbing our family, and I don’t like the way you’re talking to my daughter. Please leave.”
Chad glared at Belle, his eyes flashing. “Shut the fuck up, bitch.” Belle gasped and, before anyone could react, Banger had the guy in a choke hold.
“You fuckin’ need to learn respect.” He tightened his grip, and Chad clawed at his arm. “Apologize to the lady and her daughter.” Another asshole. Damn, just how many guys has Emily been seeing? And Holly was supposed to be supervising? Fuck that.
Chad looked to two men who were standing to the side of him, and it was the first time Banger noticed the asshole had a couple of buddies with him. The friends started to come toward Chad, but Banger saw them stare at the Insurgents patch on his cut before they stepped back. Out of nowhere, Throttle came over to Banger. “You need some help with this?”
He glared at the extra guys. “I will if these assholes don’t get the hell out of here now.” Banger dragged Chad out, and his friends quickly followed. He shoved Chad hard, and the young man fell to the pavement, glowering at Banger. “Stay the fuck outta my restaurant. You and your fuckin’ friends need to get the hell away from here. If I ever find out you’re bothering Emily again, you’ll have to deal with me.”
“And me,” Throttle’s deep voice growled from behind Banger.
“She’s not worth shit,” Chad said, pulling his shoulders back and strolling to his car. Banger bit the urge to give him a swift kick in the ass to move him along. When they left, Banger and Throttle went back in the restaurant.
“What the hell went down?” Throttle asked.
“The fucker was disrespecting my woman and her daughter. I don’t like that shit.”
Throttle lifted his eyebrows. “Your woman? What the fuck?”
“I’ve been seeing someone. Her name is Belle. Come on over, I’ll introduce you.”
“Fuck, whoa. If you’re gonna introduce me that must mean it’s serious.”
Banger looked at him. “It is. Come on.”
“Who was that man, Emily?” Belle said.
“Someone who doesn’t know respect,” Banger answered as he approached the table.
“Emily?”
“He’s a loser, Mom. He’s a friend of a friend, and he became obsessed with me after I went out with him a few times. I didn’t like him, so I moved on. I guess he didn’t. Anyway, you know I like Jared.”
“You went out with him? He’s at least five years older than you. When did you go with him?”
“When I was at Aunt Holly’s. She actually encouraged it. She’s pretty cool.”
Trying to diffuse an escalating situation, Banger pointed to Throttle. “Hey, this is one of my brothers, Throttle. This is Belle, Ethan, and Emily.”
Throttle smiled broadly when he saw Belle, and Banger wanted to punch him in the face because he knew what that face meant; he’d seen it too many times when Throttle was on the prowl for a hoodrat or club whore. Belle laughed at his jokes and listened to his stories as he pulled up a chair to join them, but all the while her soft, warm foot kept teasing the shit out of Banger.
He noticed Emily kept sneaking peeks at him, and when he’d catch her eye, she’d avert her gaze. Later, as they walked through the lot to their car, Emily came up next to him and said in a low voice, “Thanks for taking care of that creep. It was cool that you’d do that for me.”
“No worries.” Banger held her gaze for a few seconds then turned away, knowing they’d reached an understanding. He grasped Belle’s hand, clutching it.
When they arrived home, Ethan and Emily went to their rooms, and Banger and Belle sat outside on the porch necking like a couple of teenagers for a long time. “Woman, I need to be with you.”
“I know. I’ll try to see if I can arrange for the kids to do sleepovers. I don’t trust leaving Emily alone. She needs supervision.”
“I get it, but we need to have some time too.”
“I’ll find the time, I promise.”
He took her in his arms and kissed her deep and wet before he climbed on his bike and went home.
* * *
The diner was unusually slow, and Belle sat backward on one of the stools at the counter, facing the street. She relished the pocket of quiet, knowing it was only temporary until the lunch crowd filed in. Across the street, a bright bakery sign beckoned passersby, while a pet store’s front window displayed adorable puppies romping with each other, oblivious to the onlookers. A newspaper dispenser held the Pinewood Springs Gazette and The Everything, a free paper where people could place ads for anything from fishbowls to cars, and then there was the personal section where men and women looked for true love.
As Belle stared mindlessly, a glimpse of yellow caught her eye, jerking her out of her thoughts. She rose and went to the window. Standing in front of the bakery was Harold’s ex-mistress. She wore an expensive St. John’s knit dress in lavender, and yellow-toned high heels that hurt Belle’s feet just by looking at them. She appeared to be waiting for someone by the way she turned her head from side to side, staring down the street in each direction. Why in the hell is she still in Pinewood? What’s her angle?
A loud rumble, like thunder, shook the windows of the diner, and Belle smiled, knowing the noise could only come from a Harley. Her pulse raced. Maybe Banger was coming in to see her and have a slice of her coconut cream pie. She knew he loved it, and she’d told him earlier that she was going to make it. She held her breath in ant
icipation as the rumble became louder and closer.
When she saw Scorpion’s Harley, her excitement shifted to dread. He was the last person she ever wanted to see. Expecting him to swing into the parking space in front of the diner, he surprised her when he parked across the street, in front of the bakery. Megan came over to the bike and gave him a hug. Belle almost fainted. What the hell? Megan with Scorpion? They certainly don’t fit. Something isn’t right here.
He slithered off his bike and put his arm around her waist. They walked down the street, and Scorpion turned his head and stared at Belle. She quickly stepped to the side, trying to conceal herself behind a pillar, her hand on her mouth. She didn’t dare look, so she stayed stuffed behind the pillar for several minutes until she craned her neck around the column to see if she could spot Scorpion. He was nowhere to be seen, and she breathed a sigh of relief, praying he wouldn’t stop in at the diner.
A few people came in and business was slowly picking up, so she headed to the kitchen to brace herself for the lunch rush.
* * *
The knock on her front door at nine o’clock in the morning made Belle’s brow wrinkle. No one came by in the morning except for Holly when they’d go on their morning walk, but she knew it wasn’t Holly. Belle had been miffed at Holly for letting Emily date Chad, who she’d found out was twenty-one years old. Holly kept calling, but she wanted to have a little distance from her friend until she cooled down.
Another knock.
Her stomach churned, imagining it was Megan, coming over to start something with her again. An icy shiver ran through her. What if Scorpion was with her, and they’d come over to do something to her? Seeing Harold’s ex-mistress with him startled and frightened her. She didn’t trust either of them.
