Tangled Threats on the Nomad Highway

by MariaLisa deMora

  “No, I haven’t. I wasn’t nice to you this morning, and it’s bugged me all day.” He turned and stared at her, expression somber. “This gives me a chance to apologize and fix it.”

  “You don’t have anything to fix.” Other than his refusal of her spur-of-the-moment request this morning, he’d been nothing but nice. “It’s okay.”

  “No, it’s not.” His roughened fingers gave hers another squeeze, then dropped away as he retrieved a helmet from the backrest of the bike’s seat. “I’ve got just the one lid, but we’ll get it tight on you, keep you safe.”

  “Who’ll keep you safe?” If a helmet is required, and he only has the one, doesn’t it make more sense for the driver to wear it? “Don’t you need one, too?” She angled her body away. “I feel like you’ve been trapped into something you didn’t want. That’s…that won’t work for me.” Marian backed away and looked over her shoulder at the road and dark buildings, sun already lost behind the tall pine trees to the west. “You go on back, and I’ll make my own way.”

  He groaned from behind her, and footsteps approached as she struck off along the edge of the road. “Are you this much of a pain in the ass for everyone, or is it just me?” Marian didn’t answer him, adding a little speed to her stride—matched by an increase in his footsteps. “Jesus God, woman, I already said I want to fix this. You hoofing it won’t do a damn thing except piss off everyone else at me. Anyone not already there will be by the time you walk all the way back out to Bane’s place.” Fingers tangled with hers, and he tugged, pausing her progress. “Swear to God, Marian. Hold up.”

  “It’s okay.” She tried to retrieve her fingers but found them in an immovable hold. “Honestly, I’m happier walking than riding.”

  “You already said you’d feel safe with me. Me, and not Horse.” A quick pull had her spinning to face him, staring up into his eyes. “It’ll take us fifteen minutes max, and I promise to ride safe as if it were—” His lips pressed together. “I promise to ride safe.”

  The interruption of his speech was abrupt, and she wondered what he’d been about to say. “Why does it matter to you?”

  “Because I wasn’t as nice as I could have been earlier, and that made you doubt me. I just want to redeem myself.” He narrowed his eyes. “Don’t be afraid of me, Marian. I’d never hurt you.”

  “I’m not afraid.” That was a tiny bit of a lie. Standing alongside the dark highway, with shadows of nighttime falling all around them, just the knowledge that they were alone carried fear. He could do anything. Marian swallowed hard. “You’ll show me what to do? I want to keep you safe, too.”

  “Yeah.” His fingers curled around her hand, slipping his palm against hers. “I’ll show you.”

  ***

  Einstein

  Mother. Fuck. The easy way that Marian followed him back to the bike belied the speed at which she’d tried to leave only a few minutes ago. No matter what he tried, he seemed to mess up with her. Being the sister of the new Freed Riders president’s old lady meant she would wield a certain amount of influence in the future, if she wanted.

  That’s the only reason I’m so adamant to get her home safely.

  The lie burned in his gut.

  It didn’t have anything to do with leveraging today’s kindness against some far-flung moment of need.

  No, the thought of leaving her here, or having her walk home, or having her ride on Horse’s bike—all twisted through his chest like the gut punch of a fishhook swallowed deep. He didn’t know what it was, didn’t like it, and surely wasn’t about to cultivate it—but he also couldn’t just let her walk away.

  “First the helmet.” He held up a finger. “And before you argue, don’t. You’re wearing it, and if you ride with me again”—what the actual fuck am I saying—“I’ll make sure I have two, one for each of us, so we’re strictly legal.” There wouldn’t be a second time. Shouldn’t be a first, but he’d boxed himself in neatly with his arguments. But for sure, no second ride. “I’ll get the bike running, then you come up on this side, like a horse. Puts you opposite the pipes, which will be hot. It’s good you’ve got jeans and boots on. They’ll protect you a little bit against quick brushes against them, if it happens. Just be careful.” She stared up at him from underneath the rim of the helmet, eyes open wide as she listened closely to every word he said. “There’re two little pegs for your feet, to keep them from getting tangled in anything they shouldn’t. As long as you stay on behind me and keep your boots on the pegs, you’ll be fine.”

  She nodded, and he finished tightening the helmet, tucking the extra length of strap back through the D-rings to keep it out of the way. With the bike started, he settled in and then gestured towards the seat behind him. Marian stared at him, then at the space between his ass and the back of the seat, and back to his face. He could tell she was wavering, reconsidering the decision to ride with him, then caught the moment when her shoulders went back and her spine steeled. She hopped on one foot to get her boot over the seat, taking his offside hand with a death grip when he offered it, levering herself into place with a bounce of the bike’s suspension.

  “Where do I put my hands?” The side of the helmet thudded against his head, and Einstein couldn’t help himself. He laughed aloud, turning with a grin still on his face to see a matching one on hers. “Sorry.”

  “Hands at my waist, hold on to my belt. That’s best.” One of her hands settled into place, and he patted the hot spot he’d instantly become acutely aware of, telling himself he was just ensuring she secured her grip. “Literally your only job is to not let go. Can you do that?”

  “Oh, I expect I can manage.” Her smile was wide and genuine, and held enough amusement to light up the sky.

  “Then let’s go home.”

  ***

  Marian

  Quiet steps carried her into the kitchen, and she flicked on the coffeemaker, watching for a moment to ensure it began its job. Careful not to make too much noise, she began gathering things for breakfast, smiling as she thought about the previous morning. It had been nice working alongside Einstein.

  The ride back had been nice too. His cautious maneuvering of the bike increased her confidence in him with every turn and curve, and by the time they’d ridden up in front of Truck’s house, she couldn’t hide her wide grin.

  Gunny had been on the porch, apparently waiting on them, and his gentle, “Little sister,” as greeting had warmed her insides.

  Found family, she thought now, staring down at the eggs as she whisked them into a scrambled froth.

  Footsteps on the stairs pulled her attention, and she watched as Bane wandered down, yawning wide.

  Glancing at the couch, she realized she couldn’t see anything of Einstein and stared harder.

  “He was up early to talk to Truck.”

  Bane’s words were a surprising blow she didn’t understand, and she busied herself with breakfast to hide the reaction.

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah.” Bane poured himself a cup of coffee, only seeming to notice Marian’s lack at the last minute. “Want a cup?”

  Einstein wouldn’t have asked; he’d have just poured and doctored it. He’d learned in the space of a few hours that given a choice, Marian never asked for anything. Him just doing for her had been a nice change, something she’d miss when he left for good.

  “That’s okay. I’ll get it in a minute.”

  The eggs popped loudly as she poured them into the ready skillet. No time to wonder if she was the reason he’d left the house early.

  She had things to do.

  Chapter Nine

  Einstein

  He stared out at the groups of men dotting Truck’s yard. They’d spread out and grown over the past half an hour, early arrivals coming out to greet those who’d just gotten here.

  In the four months since he’d left Baker in his dust, things had changed here on the homesteads. What had been a rough field with uneven camping had turned into a cultivated space complete wit
h thick grass. Someone had crafted more fire rings, and large logs had ass-sized scoops shaped out of them, creating seating at each.

  Through the gossip grapevine, everything had sounded good—sometimes too good, as if the storyteller wanted the new chapter to be a grand success. In person, he found that the stories had actually been downplayed somewhat.

  “Einstein.” Laughter wreathed the sound of his name, and he turned to see Horse was the one who’d recognized him. Lifting a hand, he gave a wave in response. Horse gestured and called, “Come on over, brother.”

  Brother.

  That right there was the one downside of the nomad rocker. Bama Bastards was a small club, tiny when compared to the bigger players like Incoherent and Rebel Wayfarers. Even Freed Riders was a larger club, with multistate chapters as notches in its organizational belt. He hadn’t realized how much he’d miss being around people he knew…and trusted.

  “Horse, good to see you.” Their palms slapped together; then Horse adjusted his grip, pulling Einstein into a one-shoulder clinch. “How is it I’m back in Baker and you’re back in Baker? You stalking me?”

  “No. If I was gonna do that kind of shit, I’d have just locked you down when you came to visit a few weeks ago.” Blackie and Horse had given Einstein a warm welcome, offering a room in their clubhouse for him to rest his head. “You look a little better now than you did then.”

  “Asshole, I’d just run through a hailstorm.”

  “So you say. I’m not convinced the black and blue you were wearing were caused by itty-bitty balls of ice, but whatever you want to believe. Whatever.” With a final thumping hit against Einstein’s back, Horse pulled away, still grinning. “You know you’re welcome anytime, right?”

  “I know. Know and appreciate the trust, brother.” He thudded his fist against Horse’s shoulder. “Tell me what I’ve missed.”

  “Clubhouse here is done-done. Fuckin’ finally. I didn’t think Bane’d ever get it finished to his satisfaction. Your drawings and information helped out a fuckin’ ton, man. Great job there.” Stepping away, Horse leaned against a tree. “Gunny’s settled in better than anyone expected. Man’s a menace, but he’s also kinda a fuckin’ genius when it comes to dealin’ with Bane’s patch-overs and prospects.”

  “I’ve heard only good things about him.” Einstein paused and considered. “Well, mostly good things. He had a moment a few years ago when he was helpin’ RWMC deal with some shit. Heavy-handed, but it all sorted out in the end.”

  “Brother, we’ve all got those kind of stories in our rearview.” Horse’s chuckle was wry. “At this point, if you don’t have shit stories about you somewhere in your past, you’re probably too much of a lightweight to play with the big boys. Too much happening in our world between shitty clubs, RICO, and bullshit overseas beefs coming home to roost.”

  “True. Some of us more than others.” Glancing around at the clustering men, he picked out several women standing close to their better half, either legal or of the moment. “Hey, you ever meet Bane’s old lady?” It had become a running joke before he’d left Baker. Neither of them had met Myrt officially. Caught glimpses of her from a distance, but between her exhaustion and morning sickness from the pregnancy, she hadn’t made many appearances. “She’s about due, right?”

  “Should be. As you know I’ve been runnin’ my ass off between the two chapters but stayin’ at the clubhouse here when I’m in town. So nope, haven’t met her to speak to.”

  Movement in the distance caught at Einstein’s attention, and he grinned as he stepped towards the wide path between the two houses. “Hey, Marian’s on the front porch. You said hello yet?” Horse lifted a shoulder. “What? You ghosting her for some reason?”

  “She’s not the reason I come to Baker, brother.” Narrowed eyes stared at him. “Business comes first.”

  “Always.” Angling his head to the side, Einstein took another step away from Truck’s place. “Stay here if you want. I’ve got no reason to steer clear of Marian. She’s a good girl.”

  “Woman.”

  “What?” The flat statement pulled Einstein up short. “What does that mean?”

  “Means she’s no little girl, much as Gunny’d like to pretend. Woman who can make up her own mind on what she wants.” He lifted that single shoulder again, the black leather of his vest swinging heavily against his hips. “If she wanted to say hello, that door swings both ways.”

  “She ghosted you.” The realization had tension in his chest easing. He glanced at the porch, disappointed to find Marian had disappeared. “What’d you do?”

  “Why does everyone immediately go there?” Horse pushed off the tree and turned, walking next to Einstein as they made their way towards Bane’s house. “I didn’t do a damn thing.”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  A couple of RWMC members he knew fell into step with them, and they shared quick greetings.

  He blinked at a small woman waddling their direction, preceded by a round belly. “Is that Myrt?”

  “Looks to be.”

  They stepped to the side and gave her respectful greetings. Those bits of conversation quickly turned into a rescue of sorts, Einstein and Horse crafting a carry chair with their arms. That moment then morphed into a request from the woman, one that had Horse smiling wide in agreement.

  Hours later, Einstein was lounging to one side of a low-burning fire, elbow on his knee as he tried to decide where he’d sleep tonight.

  “I heard that was some funny shit today.” Einstein looked up, surprised to find Retro standing across the circle. “Bearing the queen on her portable throne so she could toss a question at her old man. Classic stuff, brother. Material that’ll still be makin’ the rounds years from now.”

  He scrambled to his feet and rounded the pit, wrapping his arms around his best friend. “What the hell, man. I didn’t know you were coming in.”

  “I like to keep ya guessin’.” Retro returned the embrace with the same amount of strained strength. “Fuckin’ miss your ugly mug, brother.”

  “God.” Einstein squeezed tight, feeling somehow steadier just knowing Retro was here. “I miss you, too.”

  “Tell me.”

  “Tell you? Tell you what?”

  “Every-fuckin’-thing, man. I want to hear everything over the past two weeks, since we last spoke.” Retro gestured towards the log Einstein had leaned against. “Let’s pull up a seat, have a chat.”

  Making his way back to where he’d been seated, he ran the memories of his journey through his mind, trying to isolate the pieces that Retro would be most interested in. “I’ve already reported all of this through Mudd, you know. If you didn’t get the memo, then you need to take it up with your man.”

  “Oh, no worries for your little head, he told me everything.” Retro settled next to Einstein, folded fist pounding against Einstein’s flexed quad. “Nothin’ like gettin’ my info straight from the source, though. Me and Mudd think a lot alike, but we aren’t twinsies. You just gotta fuckin’ deal.”

  “Yeah, can do.” He fell into the stories then, letting Retro guard them against eavesdroppers, corralling the tales into linear additions to what they might have already known about any given situation. How the Silent Deaths were breaking from the Machos, and what that might have to do with a different Machos affiliation to the Legends from up in Wyoming. Legends had absorbed the club that Bane had given up on years ago. Through the confusion of the takeover, their records hadn’t been updated well, or at all. It had taken Retro a full week to suss out all the names of members like Bane who had left. At least now he was reasonably confident Scar wasn’t among them. While there, though, he’d isolated information about two Jackals who’d routed through the northern states on their way to the East Coast, an odd arrangement, given they were chartered south of San Diego. That had jumped out at him as a desire to avoid certain clubs and had garnered its own week-worth of investigation.

  By the time he finished talking, his throat was dry and sc
ratchy, voice hoarse from sucking in wood smoke and breathing out secrets.

  The look of pride on Retro’s face?

  Worth anything.

  “I’m impressed with myself for the first time in a while.” Retro leaned back, stretching his legs straight in front of him, soles of his boots aimed at the guttering fire. “Makin’ you take that nomad rocker is the best idea I’ve had.” He got his feet underneath him and stood, looking down at Einstein as he held out a hand. “Come on, brother. I copped Bane’s couch for you tonight.”

  “Where are you sleeping?” He accepted the assistance and groaned as he rose and stretched. “Jesus, shoulda realized my ass was numb.”

  “I’m in the guest bedroom. My understanding is we’ll be feted breakfast early, then we’ll head into town to do the main business.” Retro took a slow breath, regret etching lines on his face. “You heard about Marlin, right?”

  “Patching over. Never woulda thought it, man. The Baker chapter is solid, though, a great group if a body was looking for a change of scenery. Did he give you a reason behind the request?” Einstein paced beside Retro as they walked towards Bane’s house. “This feels sudden.”

  “Same info as Monday, needs to vacate the Birmingham locale. I didn’t press him beyond finding out that it wasn’t club related. If I’d denied, I think he would have stayed.” Retro shrugged.

  “Yeah, but how unhappy would he be in a few weeks or months. Sometimes you just gotta know when it’s time to cut losses and move on.” Since his plan was following select bikers as they moved through the community, picking up and putting down patches as they went, Einstein felt like he’d seen it all by now. “He’d either bury himself inside the club in an unhealthy way, or he’d start staying away if it meant being in proximity to whatever has his hackles riled up. You ensuring he does it right will always keep the door open for him to come back someday.”

  “Oh, yeah. And we’re doin’ it right. You should know that about me for sure.”