Clive eyed her from across the room. Rage bubbling up to the point she wondered if he would try again, to get her. The motion swift as he leapt to his feet and she shrieked in fear.
Roxy caught his shoulder enough to knock him off balance and Dell finished him by knocking the back of his knee with her fist. His body contorted as he fell to the floor with a hard thud. His leg bent awkwardly.
Dell had dropped to one knee, pulling the gun from her waist holster and pressing it to his temple. “Now, why would you go and do that?” she asked.
Just then a cold washed over Meadow like when she’d stepped under Frijolis Falls. An adventurous day to be sure when she was younger, but worth the experience. Would she look back at Clive and think it had been worth the experience? The moments muddled together, making her question every move she was making.
Only she wasn’t sure if her fear was for losing Clive, or Dell getting in trouble.
“Be a good little puppy and stay down,” Dell ordered. “Get her clear.”
Roxy hustled Meadow to her car and she tossed the bags in.
“I have nowhere to go that he won’t find me.”
“Yes you do,” Dell said coming out of the trailer. “Follow us. We’re going to make sure you are safe.”
Dell and the other women got on their motorcycles and a roar erupted from the chrome pipes. It reverberated, bouncing off the rows of trailers and rounded grills.
Meadow watched as the other ladies got on their motorcycles. Dell circled her head with her hand and the ladies drove away. She put the car into drive and started to follow them.
Her body and mind numb, trying to process if she’d made a mistake. Love, passion, pain. Why did those three have to always intersect when it came to her life? Would this be the same? Had she left more than her paints and a few random pieces of her life in that trailer?
Freaky entered the house through the front door. The demolition was in the middle stages. They’d torn apart the kitchen, living room and dining room. They had the entire upstairs to still go before the house would be ready to be renovated. Outside of a bathroom, that at least required little demolition.
“Hey Freaky, you decided to show up for work?” Richard ‘Brick’ Harris teased.
The man was probably one of his closest friends with the Steels. Having both patched in at the same time after they left the service. Brick put in his twenty, retiring like a grown up. Freaky on the other hand had not been in the mood to reup. After high school, he’d joined up not really knowing what he wanted to do, but he’d been told in no uncertain terms he wasn’t allowed to stay in his parent’s home. The shitty one and a half story in Helena wasn’t worth the nails holding it together anyway. Guard duty gave him training, enough cash to survive, and freedom to not be locked down.
At least, that’s the cock and bull story he’d been told. Eighteen and not understanding fully that though he was training to be a weekend warrior didn’t mean he wouldn’t be spending a few tours in the sandbox. Then natural disasters outside his state had his unit tapped again. So much for just filling sandbags if the Missouri River overflows. Or helping stranded travelers in a storm. The National Guard had called him away one too many times when he thought he was getting his life settled.
He wasn’t worried about a job, that was handled by laws. It was life with a woman, and friends. Hell, a routine couldn’t find purchase because he never saw any steady days without a threat of being tapped. Overhearing Casanova talking about the MC they were building back home they were all hometown boys, but looking for good men to join them. Freaky rolled into Turnabout Creek beside Maggie’s home. A warm welcoming place unlike the one he walked away from once he crossed the stage at his high school.
Freaky smirked at his brother by more than blood. “Yeah, I don’t get here at the crack of dawn like you do, Brick. I wait until the sun has risen a bit.”
Lester ‘Shark’ Gonzalez slammed the sledgehammer into the wall. “Well, we have a lot of work to do on this house before we can put it up for sale. The club should make a good profit with this one. Four bedrooms and three bathrooms.”
Freaky’s job was to renovate houses and flip them for a profit for the club. He, Brick and Shark were working on this one. They bought up houses and resold them after putting thousands of dollars into them fixing them up. Once in a while, a club member would find the house of his dreams and purchase it from the MC. Bounty and Cream being one of them. Only good part was he got to stop renovating the house once it came to the final paint and pretty stage. The couple took that on to make it exactly what they wanted.
He loved this house they were working on. If he were to find himself a wife and start a family it would be the perfect house, but that wouldn’t be happening anytime soon. Besides, he’d rather have the pay out on closing to pad his bank account then drain it.
Picking up a hammer, he started pounding nails into a two by four. They had to construct a wall where the new bathroom would be. His goal was to finish this project today.
“Hey, did you hear the entire MC from New Mexico is coming for Hack and Preacher Girl’s wedding?” Shark leaned on the sledge hammer he was using while he spoke,“I heard they’re bringing a rescue up with them.”
Freaky didn’t realize Preacher Girl and Hack were popular enough to have everyone come up from New Mexico. “Really? That’s cool. It’s been a while since we seen any of them. Even the women are coming too?”
“Yeah that’s what I heard.” Shark punched a hole through the wall he was tearing down.
Measuring the next board, Freaky picked up the skill saw and cut the two by four on the line he’d just made. Using his hammer, he pounded the nails in it to fix it to the next place in line for the wall. “The rescue, you know why they’re bringing her here?” Freaky wondered what was this girl they were bringing up with them had been through.
Since the charter had been founded, they had a side mission. Beyond the bonds of brotherhood and the road. The men and women of the Steel MC worked with an underground network called The Hard Road to get people out of abusive situations. Transport mostly, especially if medical was needed thanks to Red being trained as a trauma surgeon. Though the man usually saw the usual cough and sniffles crowd locally. There had been a satisfaction in giving a person a new lease on life.
“I guess they need to get her out of New Mexico,” Shark replied. “They called and asked Roadkill if we had room for a new girl up here. I guess she’s some kind of artist or photographer Dell likes.”
“We need someone that can add a little art into our world.” Freaky nodded. “Maybe she could help decorate the houses after we get them rehabbed.” Montana, Turnabout Creek especially, wasn’t exactly the big city requiring an interior decorator to help set up a home for resale, but maybe they could get a few extra bucks if they made the place shine a bit.
Brick walked into the room chewing on his sandwich. “I’m not sure she’s all that. I heard she paints and takes some sick pics. New Mexico bought some for their club house.”
“You both heard about her before I did. When was that?” Freaky couldn’t believe they knew before he did. Rescues were usually a church discussion and his ass knew better than to skip a meeting call from Red. A good spanking could be fun, but an ass whooping or talking down from his Prez… yeah, that he’d rather skip.
“Well, we were eating breakfast this morning at the clubhouse when Roadkill got the call from Dell. She set up all the arrangements right in front of us.” Brick took another bite of his sandwich, then beamed. “I got to hold Harlow.”
Harlow was almost a year now and the most protected girl on the planet. Though Cass and Lil’ Mama’s girl Murphy was a close second. Harlow was the princess of the Montana Charter with her shock of strawberry blonde curls and bright blue eyes, she was the unofficial ruler of the Steels.
“Oh, that makes sense.” Freaky knew both of these guys were up before the sun. Roadkill and some of the other women were usually up making breakfast
for the early birds. Red had to be at the clinic before seven A.M. “I wonder if she’s going to stick around here or be moved elsewhere?” Most of the women they saved moved on. A handful had stayed in Turnabout, even found a partner who didn’t think they could double as a punching bag.
“Not sure about her situation since this didn’t come from The Hard Road,” Brick replied. “She’ll probably move on, there ain’t much in Turnabout unless you start working for us. You never know with these women. Let’s get back to work.” Brick finished his sandwich then picked up a hammer. “I’m finished with what I was doing, where do you need me next?”
“Let’s finish the framing of the bathroom,” Freaky suggested. ”Then we can start on the kitchen. The cabinets will be delivered today.”
“Powder room,” Brick corrected knowing it would make the hair on Freaky’s neck rise.
“Shark, bring me that sledge hammer,” Freaky joked.
The men burst into laughter then refocused to at least get started before the cabinets arrived around ten.
Working throughout the morning, the three guys finished up the framing and would start on the floors as soon as the wood flooring arrived. Some sick twisted bastard destroyed the original pine, tearing it up in most rooms and using an adhesive meant for space travel to adhere carpet instead of laying it down properly. Had the fucker been hurt as a child? Whatever the motivation… they had to tear down to the subflooring, which meant all new wood had to be laid throughout.
First, the cabinets then, lunchtime arrived and Freaky was starving. This showed him for missing breakfast. Latest gossip about the rescue and he was wiped from not having a few eggs and toast. He pulled out his lunch box and unwrapped his sandwich. At least the Hoez had made up a few for them with the leftovers from Maggie’s roast the night before. How the woman who only had one son, Red, and never served in the military, yet somehow she could cook for the masses and still have leftovers. The reality of her skills boggled his mind.
Sitting on an upside down bucket, he dug in and then cracked a soda. Taking a bite of his sandwich, he scanned his phone. His thumb making social media fly past his screen until he caught sight of a funny meme. Politics, politics, military, bondage pic, random sex toy ad…
A text flashed at the top of his screen from Red, jarring him from the rabbit hole of social media. Meeting at the restaurant six P.M.
He answered back in the group text. I’ll be there.
Meeting was pretty standard, just not at the restaurant, but couldn’t be more than a rundown of the next few days. Prep work and maybe a convo about the latest rescue. Freaky knew he had a lot to complete before six o’clock, so he quickly finished his lunch and went back to work.
3
Meadow’s back was killing her. She’d been driving since six o’clock that morning. Following the entire Steel MC from New Mexico to Montana would take a few days. They didn’t plan on doing it in one trip.
Dell told her before they left that they would be stopping for the night in Colorado. The damn state line had to have been at least an hour ago. She wondered when they were going to pull off. Her car was doing great, better than she expected. She wondered if it could even make the trip, but so far, no big issues.
It was different riding with a group. Normally, she couldn’t even follow a person because she’d lose them in traffic, but with so many bikes and vehicles there was always someone to check on her. Luckily, her biggest issue of needing to stop had been averted by someone else’s that actually knew how to communicate with the pack.
Although rolling in and out of a truck stop or rest area was a sight. Like dancers in a way, or maybe swans, floating along the pavement instead of a stream. She caught herself transfixed for a moment too long once, and had to drive over the limit to catch up to the lead group while holding up the ones trailing her. But who wouldn’t sit in awe at times? Getting lost again in the moment, she shook her head at watched those leading on the twisting highway.
Mountains were on either side, with random waterfalls and bridges. In the distance, she could see houses built so high in the sky, she wondered how one even got up there, let alone constructed such a thing. All of it threatening to have her swerve outside her lane as a river or brook rushed on the other side of the road.
Her trusty Jeep had been bought while she had been in college, paid off and the engine rehauled at least once since she’d owned it. Her poor baby was hitting close to a quarter century old and had all the worldly items she had left, filling its hatch.
Reaching in her passenger seat, she snagged another Twizzler and bit on the strawberry flavored confection. It dangled out of her mouth as she tried not to get lost in her thoughts. Her first mind was to leave most of the stuff at the clubhouse in New Mexico, but Dell convinced her to take it with her in case she chose to stay somewhere along the way. As if Meadow would see a diner and think, this is the town I need to live in. She only had the money from her recent sales to get her through. Not showing at her substitution job meant she wouldn’t be called in as a teacher anymore in Albuquerque.
This was a scary idea following these people she hardly knew, but change had guided her in the past and it would again today. Her phone dinged another text message. She glanced down it was from Clive. He’d only sent her a dozen or more texts since she left him yesterday. Her life had spun on an axis before, but never in such a quick succession.
Clive wouldn’t find her, not this far away. She was escaping from a life of hell. Having been with him for four years now, and they had had some good times, but if she allowed herself to be honest it had been mostly bad times. He’d hit her for the last time.
Visions of Dell beating him up had a smile cracking along her lips. In some sick way she had gotten satisfaction watching him speechless, unable to bully his way through her or any of the women. They all looked down upon him like scum and she knew any questioning of his greatness was an insult his fragile ego could not accept.
How would it be to live with these people? An entire MC. They were a motorcycle club. Maybe it wasn’t the club Dell thought Meadow should live with. Several motorcycles were in front of her and behind her. Dell had made sure she was well protected, but from what? The military mind was a twisted sick place at times and others had a balance to it which often mimicked in nature. Or were they mimicking?
She shook her head and refocused. Up ahead, a green highway sign told her they were entering Nederland with an elevation of eight thousand two hundred and thirty six feet. She smirked at the normal population sign switched to elevation because that was Colorado. Another, city sponsored wood sign, welcomed you to the town. This was the town Dell told her they were going to spend the night in. Rest was on the horizon as they rolled through the little town with its quaint shops and covered walkway bridge.
She’d made it, thank God. Stretching, she drove through the old mining town, telling herself to not get distracted on the two lane roads. It was hard, especially when she saw a sign for Frozen Dead Man Days. Had they just missed them? Were they coming up? She supposed skipping a wedding for a frozen dead guy would be frowned upon.
Following behind the motorcycles, they drove into a large hotel parking lot. Log styling didn’t mean rustic in this case, more how the town was set up. Though quaint, they knew their appeal came in the form of tourism. A throwback to a simpler time.
After parking her car, she got out, found a cardigan and went to dig out her camera from the back. Not waiting to see what the MC was going to do. Instead, she began adjusting the aperture and ISO for the late afternoon sun. Hoping the ache in her back wouldn’t make it hard for her to maintain for the slower shutter she would need. Though she could fix things in photoshop she’d been trained old school. On film and she never liked her professors saying fifty percent of your shots will be tossed. Wasted film. Wasted time too. Instead, she worked to take the shot the way she wanted the first time. No need for illumination and filters. Beauty, in pure raw form.
Mountains su
rrounded her as she zoomed to find the glowing orb trying to go away for the night between peaks. Juniper berries on the evergreens. Even the shadowing of the parked bikes weren’t safe from her clicking finger.
Dell’s heavy booted foot got off the motorcycle she shared with her husband Steel. The hard contrast of leather to the softer denim of the jeans snapped quickly before she seemed to remember she wasn’t invisible behind her lens. “Meadow, we’re here for the night. Let’s get settled into our rooms then I want to take you into town. They have lovely little shops I just know you’ll love.”
“Well, anything to get away from all this.” Meadow pointed to the others. “I’m a bit solitary in my life. You seem to roll pretty thick.”
Motorcycles were still finding parking spots and people milled around as they all started for the hotel.
“Only child growing up?” Dell asked.
“In a way, there were three of us, but I was a surprise that came twelve years later. Babied and spoiled, but still the annoying little sister soon forgotten when they went away to school.”
“Never had the loud, rowdy house?” Dell teased with a bright smile as laughter and jawing filled the quite town with noise.
“Not even on Christmas.”
“Well, that’s a shame.”
Meadow followed Dell inside.
Dell walked up to the front counter and drummed her hands on the pine wood.
A clerk came from behind a wall holding her hand over her mouth as she finished chewing.
“Excuse me. We have reservations for fifty of your rooms.”
“Oh, you must be the Steel MC. You sold us out.”
“Good thing I booked early,” Dell said.
“What about me?” Meadow asked.
“Ah, one extra double up by some of the guys isn’t gonna hurt ‘em. Besides, we’re practically on top of each other in Turnabout. They don’t even have a hotel for thirty miles. At least not yet.”
Dreamer: Book 7 of The Steel MC Montana Charter Page 3
