Chapter Three
The encroaching darkness brought the cold air swirling around Paco, pushing away every lick of warmth it could. Tucking his chin downward, he tugged his jacket tighter around him as he walked toward the clubhouse. Beneath his boots, the ground was slick with ice, and the wind whipped his loose hair about his face, bringing soft pellets of water. He quickened his pace, reaching the front door before the storm hit. A clap of thunder echoed above as he entered the toasty main room.
Glancing at the bar, he saw Steel and Roughneck talking, a bottle of beer in each of their hands. If the president of the Fallen Slayers was there, then something was wrong in Silverado.
“Hey, dude. You’re back. How’s Kendra?” Goldie asked.
“Good. She had another boy. What’s Roughneck doing here?” Paco replied.
“He and Brick came by this morning. Seems like they’re having trouble with the little shits in Silverado. These punk gangs are nothing but a pain in the ass. I heard you got caught in the storm a few days ago.”
“Yeah. It was fucking brutal. I’ve been back a couple of days. You been keeping busy with the tattoo shop and Hailey?” Paco motioned to the prospect for a double shot of whiskey.
Goldie laughed. “Yeah. Having an old lady keeps you busier than hell.”
Another clash of thunder and then the sound of rain hammering the roof, beating at the windows, and bouncing off every hard surface.
Steel turned around and jerked his head at Paco. “You got back from the store just in time.”
“I must be a fucking magnet for the rain.” He took the whiskey Patches handed him and took a long drink. “How’re things in your neck of the woods?” he asked Roughneck.
Brick came over and leaned against the bar next to Roughneck. The president shook his head. “Not so good. I was just telling Steel about the trouble we’re having with that punk gang, the West Avenue Bandits.”
“You got your arsenal stocked, didn’t you? I remember we put you in touch with Liam.” Paco took another gulp.
“We got the guns, but the problem is they’re building up their fuckin’ gun stock. They’re getting their shit from the Los Malos Gang out of Pueblo. We heard they’re working with the Satan’s Pistons.” Roughneck popped a few spicy peanuts in his mouth.
“How in the fuck do the Pistons have any clout right now? We took them out pretty damn good.” Paco motioned for another round of drinks.
“They’re buying the guns after the idiots give them the money. The punks are so stupid they don’t even know the Pistons are ripping them off,” Steel said.
“How’re they getting their money?” Diablo asked as he came up to the bar.
“They’ve set up shop and are dealing in drugs and women. They just opened a new strip bar. We’ve heard rumblings about them wanting to expand their territory and dip into Alina and the rest of the county.”
“No way that shit’s gonna happen,” Paco said, slamming his fist on the counter.
“That’s for fucking sure,” Steel added.
“We’ll chase their asses outta here like we did the Skull Crushers and Satan’s Pistons.” Diablo crossed his arms.
“That’s the way we feel too, but we don’t have the numbers to fight them the way we’d like,” Brick said.
“These sonsofbitches are actively recruiting from around the county. We’ve got the experience, but these wannabes are increasing in numbers. They just react without thinking or strategizing. We may need your help, but for now we’ll see what they’re going to do.” Roughneck picked up his beer.
“We wanna see if they’re full of shit or are a real threat,” Brick added.
Steel shook his head. “They’re going to take over Silverado if you don’t do something. You need to show them you’re not putting up with their bullshit. If you wait around, they’ll think they can do what the fuck they want.”
“I’m with Steel,” Paco said. “You need to come up with a plan, and then either take them out or run them out of the county.” Diablo nodded in agreement.
Roughneck ran his hand over his face. “We don’t have enough brothers to go head-to-head with them.”
“We’ll jump in,” Steel said.
“Okay. Why don’t you guys come to Silverado next weekend and check it out? We can update you then,” Roughneck said.
“They gotta be stopped. If they get a stronghold in Silverado, then we’ll have a damn mess on our hands. And the West Avenue Bandits need to stick to stealing and shit. We need to show them we don’t want them involved in our county, or yours, even if it’s only indirectly.” Paco gritted his teeth. If he had it his way, he’d get a group of them together, ride to Silverado, and blow the assholes straight to Hell.
“If you need us sooner, let me know,” Steel said, clasping Roughneck’s shoulder.
“You’re fuckin’ cheating.” Goldie’s voice bounced off the walls. The men at the bar turned toward the pool tables.
“I told you Raven’s been teaching me some moves. I warned you.” Muerto laughed.
“So now you’re a pool hustler like your old lady?” Goldie leaned over and took a shot.
Steel, Diablo, and Paco sniggered. Roughneck turned away, his brows knitted. Paco figured he was remembering when Raven hustled in Max’s bar. It still seemed to piss him off. “You got some chow around here?” Roughneck asked.
“Lena and the girls are getting ready to bring it out,” Steel replied.
“Ruby doesn’t look like she’s gonna help,” Diablo said, pointing to the club girl sitting in Army’s lap.
“She’s a looker. I may want to get cozy with her after I eat. You got any hang-arounds coming tonight?” Roughneck asked.
“I’m pretty sure Army, Eagle, and Brutus got the word out that we have the president of the Fallen Slayers spending the night. The chicks will be coming in soon,” Paco answered.
The Night Rebels waited until Steel and Roughneck filled their plates before they went over to the table. Fried chicken, mashed potatoes, corn, coleslaw, and biscuits enticed them. Paco filled his plate and sat down next to Army, Jigger, Goldie, and Muerto.
“You wanna go to the bike rally this weekend?’ Army asked as he buttered his biscuit.
Paco picked up a chicken leg. “Where’s it at?”
“Utah. Not too far from where your sister lives,” Army replied.
“It’s not going to be a big one, but some of the smaller ones have some badass bikes,” Goldie said.
Misty’s dark eyes flashed through his mind. I can stop off and see her again to make sure she’s doing okay. “Count me in.” He took a swig of beer.
“Cool. We can ride together. I think there’re about six of us who are going.” Army shoved in a forkful of mashed potatoes.
“Are you going?” Paco asked Jigger.
“I want to but I can’t. I’m going to Durango to see my kid for the weekend.”
“How’s that going with your ex? Did the judge increase her alimony?” Goldie said.
Shaking his head, Jigger coated his potatoes in black pepper. “Nah. He set it to expire at the end of the year. She about shit a brick. Serves her right. She wanted to get more money outta me so she could sit home and watch TV. Fuck that. I’m glad the judge saw through it. I wish I had Abe full time.”
“Does she treat him all right?” Paco asked.
“Morgan’s a royal bitch, but she’s a good mom. I just wish I saw him more, that’s all.” Jigger pushed his plate away. “Some of the chicks are coming in. Man, the blonde in the short leopard skirt is fuckin’ hot.”
Paco craned his neck and saw a stacked woman in her thirties wearing a tight skirt and a clingy top walk toward the bar. He smiled. “She’s just your type, dude. Built and older.” Jigger was twenty-six years old, and Paco noticed he shied away from women his own age and went for those who were in their mid-thirties and older.
“Older women are more grounded than the ones around my age, and they have more experience, which makes it real fun.” He chuckled.
“I love older women,” Army said as he ran his eyes over the blonde’s curves.
“Age doesn’t mean shit if you hit it off,” Paco said as he rose to his feet. “You want any more drinks? I’ll have Rusty bring you another round.”
Goldie held up his hands. “None for me. I’m taking off.”
“I want to get to know the blonde hottie,” Jigger said, standing up.
“I’ll go over to the bar with you,” Army said.
With his back against the bar, Paco scanned the crowd. In a short time, the room had become packed with hang-arounds, all looking to have a good time with a brother. Some of them were there for the excitement of being with a rough biker, some loved having sex with a lot of men, and some came for the drugs and the intimacy, even if it was just for a short time. He saw Roughneck and Alma, one of the club girls, kissing up a storm before Roughneck stood up, grabbed her hand, and walk out of the room.
“Hey, bro, how’s it going?” Sangre asked as he approached Paco.
“Good. The store’s been busy, which is good.”
“I heard you got caught in that crazy storm that blew into Utah over the weekend. It fuckin’ sucks to be on a bike in a downpour.”
“Yeah, but I was able to pull off pretty soon after it started.” He picked up his beer and brought it to his lips. If it wasn’t for the rain, I wouldn’t have met Misty. Shit, I’ve got to stop thinking about her. But he couldn’t help it. She’d been on his mind since the morning he’d left. There was such sadness in her eyes, but also a solid determination; he couldn’t help but want to know her backstory. How the hell did she get mixed up with a pimp? That question had been on his mind for the last few days. How did she end up in a truck stop selling her body?
“You listening, man?” Sangre’s loud voice in his ear made Misty’s face fade away.
“What did you say?”
“I asked if you’re going to the rally in Utah this weekend.”
“Army just told me about it. I’m in. You?”
“I got too much shit to do at the grow store.”
“Hey, baby. You want some company?” Lucy ran her nails up and down his forearm. He shook his head and the club girl’s face fell. “What’s wrong?”
“I have some things on my mind, that’s all.”
Leaning in close, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I can make sure you forget, even if it’s just for a little bit.” She licked his earlobe.
His dick twitched, but he pulled away. “Just not feeling it tonight, Lucy. Another time.”
“I’ll hold you to that.” She kissed his cheek and walked over to Eagle, who was chatting with Brick and Diablo.
“Why the hell didn’t you go for Lucy? She’s been wanting to jump you since you got back. You know you’re her favorite.” Sangre turned around and gestured to Rusty. “Two more here.”
Paco rested his elbows on top of the bar. “Lucy will be available whenever I want.” He picked up the whiskey the prospect put in front of him. “Two new guys want to prospect for the club.”
“Are they the ones who’ve been hanging around for the last six months?”
Paco nodded. “Tattoo Mike and Rooster recommended them. They said they’ve known the guys for years and they’re solid. Chains did backgrounds on them and they look good.”
“Cool. We need a few more members, especially with all the shit these punk gangs are trying to pull. Do you know if Steel is letting Patches and Rusty patch in?”
“We’ve talked about it. It’ll probably happen at the summer rally.”
“So you gonna party tonight or just drink and check out the women?” Sangre turned around and leaned against the bar.
Following suit, Paco’s gaze landed on a small woman with long black hair. Sucking in his breath, excitement rushed through his veins. It’s Misty. What the fuck is she doing here? Staring fixedly at her, he picked up his drink and took a big gulp. Think, man. There’s no way it’s her. She lives over a hundred miles away.
Even though he knew it wasn’t her, adrenaline shot through him in anticipation of seeing her amazing eyes again. Then, as if sensing she was being watched, she slowly turned around, and the adrenaline drained out of him. It’s not her. The woman walked toward him, and he clasped Sangre’s shoulder.
“Later, bro.” He pushed away from the bar.
“Hey,” a throaty voice said behind him.
He turned around and saw the woman he’d thought was Misty. “Not interested,” he said, taking a few steps away from her.
Her lips turned downward. “You don’t remember me, do you?”
Slowly shaking his head, he searched her face. “No. I don’t.”
“It was a few months ago. My hair was lighter. Remember… Charlotte?”
He racked his brain but nothing came up. “Maybe you’re mistaking me for one of the other brothers.”
“Oh, honey, there’s no way I’d mistake you. You kept licking shooters off my tits. Does that jog your memory?”
Scrubbing his face, he jerked his head back. “Oh, yeah. Fuck, I’m sorry. You look different. When we hooked up, your hair wasn’t as long as it is now.”
She leaned in close, the scent of nutmeg swirling around him. The softness of her tits pressed against him made his dick jerk. Placing her index finger on her lips, she said, “Shh… don’t tell anyone, but I’m wearing a wig.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“You game for some shooters?” She ran her hand over his.
“Not tonight. I have some stuff to do. Maybe another time.”
“Really? I was hoping we could hook up again. I should be mad at you for never calling me.”
He chuckled. “I don’t usually call chicks. As I recall, you gave me your number and told me to call you. That never works for me. If I wanna call a chick, I ask for her number.”
“I just thought we had something, you know?”
“It was fun.”
“You sure you don’t want this?” She ran her hands over her curves and squeezed her breasts.
“My brother Sangre would love what you’re giving away.” With his elbow, he nudged Sangre.
“Yo. What’s up?” Sangre said, swiveling around.
“Charlotte’s feeling real frisky and wants some fun,” Paco replied.
Sangre ran his eyes over her body and Paco sniggered. “Is that so, baby?”
“Well, I really wanted to have some fun with Paco, but he doesn’t want to.” Her gaze went to Sangre’s tight muscular arms. “You look like you wouldn’t pass up some fun with me.”
“My brother here is a fuckin’ idiot. I’d love to party with you, baby.” Sangre wrapped his arm around her and winked at Paco. “Thanks, dude. I owe you.” He led Charlotte away and they disappeared into the crowd.
After putting the empty glass on the bar, Paco headed up to his room, kicked off his boots, and went over to a chest of drawers. Opening the first drawer, he took out two Jack shooters and several joints. He went over to the CD player and switched it on, turning the volume down. Sinking down in the recliner by the picture window, he looked out. In the distance, headlights from random vehicles glowed eerily through the thin mist. Specks of light filled the inky sky, but in the darkened haze, the San Juan Mountains weren’t visible. It was like a pitch-black curtain had been draped over them.
He put the joint between his lips and lit it, enjoying the first long drag. The lyrics from Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It” sang out and he picked up his phone.
“What’s wrong?” he asked Kendra, dread weaving through him.
“Nothing. I’ve been meaning to call you since you left a few days ago. I just wanted to make sure you made it back okay.”
“I’m good. How’s the baby?”
“Great. Matt and Diego are loving their new brother. It’s so adorable. Vicky said she can stay a couple more weeks. I’m happy. I can use the help.”
“I told you I’d give you the money to hire someone to help you out.”
“I know. I appreciate the offer, and I may take you up on it after Vicky leaves. You do so much for us as it is. I hate to take anything more from you.”
“I offered, so it’s no problem. Anyway, I remember how the pay sucked when I was in the Army. Jesse’s not sending enough home for you and the boys.”
A small pause. “Thank you. You’re a wonderful brother. I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’ve been there for me ever since Mom died,” she said softly.
He didn’t want to think about their mother, about the red-smeared walls and furniture, about finding her sprawled on the floor swimming in her own blood. He didn’t want to revisit the scene he conjured up most days and nights.
It’d been sixteen years since he came home from school and walked into a nightmare, his mother’s body bruised and stabbed on the dining room floor. He’d been fourteen and had come home early because of an injury he’d sustained when he and some of his buddies were roughhousing during lunch. When he’d first seen his mother, the reality of what had happened hadn’t sunk in. He’d called his father right away and then the police. His father had made it to their house before the police, and when he came in and saw his slain wife, he’d fallen to his knees and wept uncontrollably. Paco’s father’s cries still echoed through his brain all these years later. He’d never be able to expunge them.
“Hello? Are you still with me?”
“Yeah. Sorry.”
“You were thinking about Mom and the horrible thing Dad did to her, weren’t you?” she whispered.
Taking a deep breath, he blew it out slowly. “No point in recalling all that shit. I’ll be near Richfield this weekend. I’m going to a biker rally. I’ll stop in and see how you and the kids are doing.”
“Another visit from you so soon. I love it! I know the boys will be ecstatic about seeing you again.”
“I’ll call you toward the end of the week and let you know when I’m coming. Take care of yourself, and call me if you need anything.”
“I will. I love you,” she said.
“Yeah. See you.”
He put the phone on the end table and twisted off the cap on the whiskey shooter, downing it in one long drink before lighting another joint, stretching his legs out in front of him. He wasn’t going back to Utah for the rally or to see his sister; he was going because a dark-haired woman had captured his imagination. With one glance, her soulful eyes pulled him in, and he wanted to see her again.
A billow of smoke ribboned around him as he blew out. Paco had no idea what it was about this particular woman that intrigued him so much, didn’t know why he couldn’t get her out of his head. A part of him feared the deep stirrings inside him, but he ignored the unease.
Maybe when I see her again, I won’t feel anything. I bet I was just tired from the long ride and the storm. I’ll see her, make sure she’s okay, and then move on. When I get back, I’ll party with Lucy. I may even ask her to spend the night with me. I’ll be back on track. I just need to see Misty one last time, and then all will be good.
Watching the mist thicken outside, he rested his head back against the cushion and closed his eyes.