Chapter 12
This is it.
Billie watched Slayer load their meager amount of supplies into his saddlebags while she adjusted her sweatshirt on her shoulders. He looked happy, content, and why wouldn’t he be? She was feeling much the same even though this half of their journey would be the start of something new for both of them.
“What are we takin’ out of here?,” She asked.
“Takin’ I-95 North to North Carolina. Gonna stop a couple of times along the way so we and eat, sleep, and rest. Get a little time to ourselves as we adjust,” He said over his shoulder.
Billie couldn’t argue with that plan it sounded reasonable to her. She was scared about riding a bike for that long, but she couldn’t talk herself out of it. This was how it needed to be if she wanted to travel across the country with the man of her dreams-and nightmares- but he was worth it, so what could she say?
“That’s fine. I’d like to stop along the way, spend a little more time together alone before you take me to meet your gang.”
Slayer rolled his eyes and turned around to kiss her on the forehead, “We’re a club not a gang.”
Billie bit her bottom lip and smiled at him.
“If you say so, cowboy.”
He snorted under his breath, “The only thing I ride is you, unless you count this metal monster,” He said rubbing the back end of his bike.
Billie liked the sound of that, even though she wouldn’t mind seeing Slayer in some ass-less chaps or a cowboy hat…
“So, when do we leave?”
“When do you wanna leave? I’m ready to go if you are,” He said.
Billie glanced back at the house and shook her keys in her hand. The jingling sound they made only served to remind her that this was real and not some sick joke.
“I’m ready now,” She said with a smile.
Slayer watched her quietly for a second, his blue eyes traveling the length of her.
“Are you sure?”
“I’m positive,” she breathed.
It was time, no matter how hard she tried to tell herself that it wasn’t. It wasn’t just about going with Slayer, either. It was about getting out of Georgia, seeing the world, getting her life back on track.
“You pack your camera?”
She sighed.
“I broke it last week. I haven’t had the funds to replace it, yet. I was waiting until you left town to figure that out.”
Slayer tsked and shook his head before he cupped the back of her neck and pressed his mouth to hers, his teeth scraping her bottom lip.
“Don’t worry about it, I’ll take care of it.”
Billie opened her mouth to argue but he easily stopped her by pressing his mouth against hers again.
“Stop arguin’ with me, baby. I told ya I wanna take care of ya, and I meant it. That’s exactly what I’m here for.”
How the hell am I supposed to argue with that?
Billie smiled and cupped his cheek before she nuzzled her nose against his. It was the first time she’d done it in six years and he seemed to appreciate it more than words could say. He held her by his hold on the back of her neck and stared down at her, a small smile on his perfect mouth.
“Get on my bike, Billie. It’s time to go.”
Billie did as he asked and got on his bike, her hands running through her long hair nervously. She removed a hair tie from her wrist and twisted her hair into a long braid so it was out of her face.
“Here,” He said holding out a helmet for her.
She read her name across the back, which made her eyes widen. Underneath her name, which was written in pretty silver cursive, was the Seven Deadlies logo.
“When did you-,” He stopped her.
“I had it made before I came home, just in case. I’m glad it’ll get put to use now.”
Billie ran her fingers along the pretty edges of the writing and felt her eyes water.
“I don’t know if I’ll be any good at this.”
“Me either, but we’ll figure it out together, baby. Put it on. Let’s get going.”
Billie planted her feet in the dirt and put the helmet on. Slayer held out a pair of glasses and she took them, grateful for his thoughtfulness.
“You had all this planned out in your head, huh?”
“Where I come from hope ain’t a real thing, but a man can’t keep himself from dreamin’.”
The idea of him across the country thinking about her, missing her, the way that she’d missed him…it hit her hard. She felt a little bit of the ice around her heart melt and slip away, and there was nothing she could do to stop it. She wanted to go with him, she wanted to love the way she used to.
There was something about the way that they used to love each other that set the bar for all of her other relationships and none of them ever measured up. Slayer had always been the one in her mind and in her heart, and if that was reciprocated, well then it would be much easier to forgive him.
The helmet fit perfectly, a sign if she thought about it long enough.
“How do I look?,” She asked as she tilted her head to the side and pursed her lips.
He laughed and tugged his own helmet on, “Like the sexiest ol’ lady I’ve ever seen.”
“What does that mean?”
He shook his head, “Nothin’. Just means you’re the one that rides on the back of my bike.”
Billie frowned, but she supposed it made sense. She had no idea what their biker lingo meant, and she would be the first admit it. She wouldn’t even pretend to know what the hell he was talking about most of the time.
“Okay, let’s get this journey started.”
Journey.
Yeah, that sounded right.
Billie wrapped her arms around his waist as he positioned himself in front of her.
“Lean into turns, keep your grip on me tight, and for the love of God, don’t pull back while we’re ridin’, okay? Last thing I need is you fallin’ off and dyin’ before I get to put a baby in you.”
Billie blinked in surprise at that last bit, but she liked the sound of it.
“Okay, Slayer.”
◆◆◆
Ox and Axel stood shoulder to shoulder as they looked at the carnage of one of the worst shoot outs they’d ever seen. In Axel’s fucking bar, The Watering Hole. A bar that every club in the mountains frequented, including the Seven Deadlies.
“This bar won’t ever be the same,” Axel said softly.
Ox peeked at the bartender, a red-headed woman that had served them dutifully over the years, dead behind the bar, a bullet in her head. Her green eyes were still wide open, staring blankly at the ceiling.
“No, it won’t.”
Limit was casing the scene, his dark hair falling into his eyes.
“Haven’t been here much since the night I met Scarlett, but fuck, this is a bloodbath. We think it’s the Madmen?”
Ox pointed towards the back wall of the bar, directly under an antler chandelier.
“That’s their calling card, ain’t it?”
Their logo, a crude portrait of the Mad Hatter with a bloody mouth, was spray painted on the walls.
“So, what? They’re comin’ after our territory?”
“This ain’t exactly our territory, not yet. But, I don’t like the fact that they’re in town. A lot of these people in here are locals, and the last thing we need is ATF breathin’ down our necks again and investigating us. This has the potential to fuck us, boys. Let’s get this cleaned up. They called us here for a reason,” Ox said angrily.
He’d gotten a call at the clubhouse from an unknown number in the middle of the night, saying there was a gift for them at their favorite mountainside bar. He couldn’t believe his eyes when Axel and Limit came with him to investigate. There was blood everywhere. It must have been close to last call too, because there weren’t many people left to kill. Three patrons and the bartender, but it looked like they just blasted through every one of them…
“This is fuckin’ overkill, boys. They’re mad about something, and I don’t know what.”
“I’m inclined to agree, Axel. I think it has to do with Chris and Pierce. If you think about it, we basically nipped those connections in the bud. None of us up here are willing to deal with them, and I bet I can call in a couple of other close charters to handle this if we need back up.”
“When the fuck have we ever needed back up?,” Ox asked.
“I’m not sayin’ we will, but I can call in the Reapers, get them up here from South Carolina. Ty owes me a favor or two,” Axel said, referring to the Reaper’s president. They were a large crew from South Carolina that used to help distribute their coke, and Ox knew that Axel and Ty were close allies.
“If we need it, do it. I don’t have too many allies left now that we’re green, so I’ll leave the networking to you,” He said easily.
Axel nodded.
“That’s what we’re partners for, Ox. Don’t be shy about askin’ for favors. This shit right here? This is about as real as it gets for us, brother. We may need the help.”
Ox knew that, just like he knew that their unmitigated beef with the Madmen just hit an all new level. They didn’t hurt locals, only helped them out if they needed it; the last thing they needed was word getting out that any of the locals they worked with at the clubhouse or the strip club were being killed. Picked off like cattle.
“How do you want me to handle this, boss?,” Limit asked.
“Call Green. Get him up here, and tell him to bring Torch. Clean up the bodies. I’m gonna have to pull a couple of strings and call in the sheriff.”
Axel’s eyes darted towards him, their dark depths questioning him.
“The fuckin’ sheriff? I thought we wanted out of the spotlight?”
“I never thought I’d have to cash in the favor he owes me, but after I helped him get rid of his daughter’s ex, he owes me big. I offed that fucker for him almost six months ago now. He’ll help and he’ll keep his mouth shut, which is exactly what we need,” Ox explained.
“Damn, I didn’t know Jefferson was in need of our help. Didn’t he always stick his nose up in the air when we rode through town?”
Ox nodded slowly.
“Yeah, so imagine my surprise when he called me to help him out. He got in a scuffle with his daughter’s piece of shit boyfriend and stabbed him. The idiot wasn’t even dead yet when I got there. I finished him off and buried the body for him. I buried the body with evidence on Jefferson though, so he’s in our debt for as long as I want him to be,” Ox said.
“Smart. Can’t have him turnin’ the tables on ya later on,” Axel said.
“Yeah and we’re gonna need him to help us. This isn’t just club business anymore, it’s personal. These locals were our friends and they have families who are probably worried about them,” Limit said.
Ox nodded, “You get a hold of Torch and Green?”
“Sure did. They’ll be here soon. Any word from Slayer?”
“He’s on his way back…with his lady.”
Every man turned to look at Ox, who was grinning from ear to ear.
“What? Man-whore of the year has a fuckin’ lady with him?”
“Yeah, he does. Billie is her name. If he’s happy, so are we. Now ain’t the time to worry about it, though. We have this mess to clean up. I’m callin’ Jefferson.”
“You want me to call in the Reapers?”
“I want you to alert them of our troubles. For now, let’s try to keep this isolated. I have a feeling if they catch wind we’re callin’ in reinforcements, they won’t be as loud. I want them to get messy enough to lead us to them,” Ox explained.
He looked around the room, wondering what the hell was going on. One day these bikers were just a questionable crew and now they were doin’ their best to intimidate them.
“Boss, these fuckers are dumb. I can take them all out on my lunch break,” Limit said.
Ox slapped him hard on the back and nodded, “That’s why you’re my enforcer. Call Tango, make a game plan with him. I want both of you on the same page. Nothin’ wrong with havin’ two enforcers working on this.”
Limit didn’t seem to have a problem sharing the responsibility now that he had Scarlett, and Ox couldn’t ask for anything better for his little girl.
“Shit just got real, fellas. Better strap in for the ride.”