Chapter 22

 

I woke up to Jordan sleeping in the middle of the bed, much like he always is. Fuck what the Doctor says. He’s my kid.

“You look happy,” Devil says as he walks toward me with a grin on his face.

“That happens sometimes. You ridin’?” I ask. Oh God, please say yes. I can’t handle a day of Trick.

“Thought about,” He says. Cocking my head to the side, I silently beg him.

“What’s with the look?” His laughter makes me laugh.

“If you don’t, I’m stuck with Trick.” Devil’s laugh turns hysterical as he takes a step back.

“Fuck that. I’m not goin’ with that kid.” Damn, way to leave a brother hanging.

“Come on, Devil! You’re my boy!” Following him into the kitchen he laughs when Trick walks in.

“I’m ready. I’m ready. I’m ready to ride.” Trick is all amped up.  Devil and I share a glance. Shaking my head, I can’t handle this all day.

“Have a good time, Ghost.” Son of a bitch.

“Fuckin’ hate you, Devil.” He laughs as I spin on my heel and head out the front door. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, maybe this will be a good run. Simple drop and receive. Shouldn’t be too hard. The only issue I see, is running through rival areas to get there. With our expansion, we’ve been forced to deliver a lot of the product.

“Don’t fuck this up, Trick,” I say as I'm grabbing my helmet, I slide it on as Trick does the same. The product is tucked in Trick’s saddle bags, so I hope he doesn’t fuck up.

“I don’t fuck shit up, unless it’s a pussy. Then I fuck it.” I have no words for that. I stand there in a stunned silence. I finally shake my head before climbing on my bike. Revving it up, I’m ready to get on the road. As much as I love being here with Nessa, the need to ride and be free calls to me. Pulling out on the main road, I smile. It feels good riding my bike. I’ve spent so much time in the truck that the bike has been neglected. The free road isn’t for everyone. This is a special place for those of us that know what it means.

 

***

The ride out was perfect. Meeting in the city is a little different, though. We usually meet-out away from people. That’s the way it always is. Pushing through the bar door, I glance around. Doesn’t seem like a clubhouse. I head in with Trick behind me, making my way to the bar.

“Silis around?” I ask. The little girl at the bar eyes me while licking her lips. Nice try.

“He’s in the back. You Ghost?” Nodding my head, she motions for me to follow. Silis isn’t in an MC like most of our clients. He’s into illegal street racing, and shit like that. He always calls us though, when he’s about to have a show. We supply their leisure time.The blonde holds a door open, ushering us inside.

“Ghost! Good to see you.” Silis stands from his desk, holding his hand out to me.

“You, too. Got a big one comin’ up?” Nodding, he motions for us to take a seat. Silis is an ok guy. He doesn’t bitch and complain like some of the clubs we deal with do. He orders, we deliver, he pays.

“Yeah. About a hundred-grand riding on this one. I’m telling you, you and your boys should come out to one of them.” He’s always trying to get us to come to his shit. That’s just not something we dabble in.

“Maybe one day. Got a lot of shit goin’ on at home right now.” Silis nods as he tugs a bag from under his desk, setting it on the desk in front of him.

“It’s all there. I may need you in a month or two.” He says. Pulling the bag closer, I toss it to Trick to count. I’m not sure that’s a good idea, though. I wonder if he can even count. I take the other bag from Trick, handing it to Silis.

“What’s your shows like?” Out of curiosity, I ask.

“Oh, hell, Ghost. They are fun as shit. We get out on the old nineteen. Have some lookouts watching for cops. Races run every fifteen minutes. We run a lot of money in those races, Ghost. Side bets can get as high as the overall pot.” Nodding as he speaks, that does sound good.

“What’s the time you’d be lookin’ at, gettin’ caught up in that shit?” I ask curiously. Silis looks up, his eyes wide.

“Just curious, Silis.” Laughing slightly, he nods.

“My brother got caught a few years back. Got twenty-five years. Motherfucker served five already.”

“Damn shame.” 

We left Silis’ after a few beers. I felt pretty good, until now. Now, everything just feels off. I don’t know why, I just feel it. Glancing over at Trick, he cocks his head slightly. I see the look in his eyes. He feels it, too. I signal him to keep watch, getting a nod in return. We ride a little further when the rumble of bikes catches my attention. Glancing back, I see three bikes closing in. Shit! How didn’t I notice them before?

I have two options here. Try to out run them, or pull the fuck over and face the firing squad. Neither one seems like a good choice to me. Trick spots them, glancing at me for guidance. Shit! Nodding toward the side of the road, there is no point in trying to outrun them on their own turf. Pulling my bike over to the side of the road, I slow down and stop, with Trick right beside me. I cut the engine, quickly climbing off, checking my guns before they have a chance to disarm my ass. Their bikes cut off, they climb off looking at us. I’m trying to place who they might be, but I come up blank for this area.

“You boys are out of place here.” The man in the front pulls his helmet off his head. His eyes look like fire, his muscles tensing as he looks at me.

“Just makin’ a friendly run, through,” I say. The man glances over his shoulder, chuckling until coming back to meet my eyes.

“Not your area, brother. It’s ours.” Shit, I didn’t realize that this was anyone’s area. I glance at the patches on his cut and that’s not a name I recognize.

“Rickshaw’s, huh? I ain’t heard of you.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I glare at him. Three on two isn’t is so bad. Aside from this one, the other two don’t look so bad.

“Is that supposed to mean somethin’ to me?” I see him reach behind him. I know what he’s going for.

If there’s more of them, we’re going to need back up. Trick has to go. Glancing over at him quickly, I nod.

“I’ll hold them off. You get the fuck back, and get Dragon.” Trick nods quickly like he doesn’t even have a second thought about it. I grab my gun from the back of my jeans, before aiming.

“Seems—we have a little situation.”