CHAPTER FIVE
We ride for most of the day and stop to camp at a spot Murphy found outside Huntington, West Virginia.
“Why does Murphy get a tent?” Ravage bitches as Carter and Teller unload the bulky shelter.
“Because I don’t want my baby being carried off by a coyote,” Heidi shoots back, making me laugh.
When Wrath slides two more tents out of the back of Murphy’s truck, Ravage really loses it.
“You shittin’ me?”
“Would you shut the fuck up and quit bitching,” Z says. “Christ you’re a fucking pussy.”
“Are one of those tents for us?” Hope whispers.
“Fuck yes.”
I expect her to say, thank God, or something along those lines. But she surprises me with, “I hope Ravage doesn’t drag us out in the middle of the night.”
“If he tries, I’ll shoot him.”
Wrath and Z get a good fire going. Charlotte passes out beer and soda to everyone. We sit around talking about the ride and what’s gonna go down at National until the girls pass out from boredom.
Teller nudges Charlotte awake.
“Bro, carry your girl like a real man,” Wrath taunts, showing off by lifting Trinity in the air. The movement wakes her and she wraps her arms around his neck, resting her head on his shoulder.
“He picks me up plenty. Don’t worry, Teller’s a proper little caveman,” Charlotte assures us. “You’ve all taught him well.”
“There’s nothing little about me, woman.” Teller throws her over his shoulder and marches off toward their tent.
“See! Told ya.” Charlotte waves and laughs the whole way.
“What’d I miss?” Hope murmurs.
“Nothing exciting.”
Our tent’s small, but I made sure we had an extra sleeping pad. “Getting too old for this shit,” I mutter.
She chuckles as she strips down to her underwear. “This is fun. I’ve never been camping before.”
“Never?”
“Nope.” She tugs at the flap of the tent and peers out into the darkness. “I think it has something to do with peeing in the woods.”
“That’ll do it.”
The guys are rowdy well into the night, and I relish the idea of waking their asses up bright and early as payback.
I doze for a while only to be woken up by Teller yelling from his tent. “I can hear you! Knock it off!”
Hope bursts into giggles, burying her face against my shoulder. “I can only guess.”
“What a bunch of fuckwits.” I hug her to me tighter. “Come on. You need some sleep.”
Before we leave the next morning, I pull Hope aside. “Here. Didn’t want to give you this at home.” My lips curl into a crooked smile. “Pretty sure it’s not legal to own in New York.”
“Speaking of.” She pats her hands over my cut and down to my ass. “I assume you’re not carrying because we’re crossing state lines and all—”
I place my finger over her lips, stopping her from asking her question. “You really don’t want to know.”
She holds my gaze for a few seconds before nodding.
“I promise I’ll keep you safe.” I don’t even blink in the direction of the plain black van Birch is driving where enough weapons for each brother are stored under a secret panel.
Just in case.
“And yourself out of trouble?” she insists.
“I’ll do my best, baby doll.”
Clearly frustrated with my nonanswers, she turns her attention to her gift.
“Kimber personal safety… What the heck is this?” she asks, flipping open the metal tin.
She plucks the plastic device out of the tin and tilts it to the side.
I ease it out of her hand and show her where the cartridges slide in. “Pepper spray blaster.”
“Oooh, romantic,” she teases.
“Just in case.”
“You think things will be that bad?” She scrunches her nose. “I thought the purpose of the property patch was to keep guys away from me?”
“I’m not worried about National as much as I’m concerned about Florida. There will be a lot of other clubs at the rally from all over. And a lot of phony wannabe MCs that don’t follow our same biker code. I want you to have something extra to protect yourself. Just in case.”
“I wonder if I could sneak this into court in my briefcase?” she mutters, plucking the cartridges out of the package.
“Got a judge you want to mace?”
Her evil grin is pretty damn sexy on my wife’s usually innocent face. “One or two.”
“It’s not a toy.” I take the gun and cartridge out of her hands. “It shoots out a red gel-like substance that burns like hell when you breathe it in. Causes enough damage to stop a grown-ass man in his tracks.”
“So don’t test it on Wrath?”
“Only if he’s being an asshole.”
“What now?” Wrath asks, joining us.
“Nothing.” Hope smiles sweetly at him and tucks the gun into her vest pocket.
“That thing’s no joke, Hope,” Wrath says. “I shot Jake with one—”
Trinity’s jaw drops. “You did what?”
“He asked me to do it,” Wrath explains. “For his YouTube channel. The company sent some to him to test.”
“Sure they did,” Hope teases. “Poor Jake.”
“Poor Jake, my ass,” Wrath grumbles. “What I was trying to say is be careful, Hope. You don’t want to get any of that shit on you. Make sure you hold the gun away from your body and aim it at your target. Aim for the head.”
The smile slides off her face. “Hopefully I won’t need it.”