Chapter 21
Declan
“Heat’s comin’ down on us,” Blu says. I look up from the joint I was rolling.
“From where?” I ask.
“Not sure. I told Chandler to get a fuckin’ handle on it or I’ll turn his ass over to his captain myself,” Blu says with a pissed off tone. I chuckle slightly.
“Hated that motherfucker since the day he started workin’ for us,” I tell him. Chandler is a cop we have on our payroll. I can’t stand the little bastard, but he’s never failed us before.
“They’re hittin’ everything around. It ain’t just us. We need to ride out North anyway,” he says. I nod once before lighting my joint.
“What was that shit at Leggs the other night?” he asks, leaning back in his seat.
“Brooke works there. Her uncle owns it.”
“Didn’t strike me as the type to own no damn strip club.” Blu laughs at the thought.
“Fuck no! It’s got a lot of promise and used to bring in big money. Said the fuckin’ club is goin’ under. I offered to help her out. She didn’t want it,” I tell him.
“She may take you up on it later. You should get her to ride with us.”
I look at Blu when the words leave his mouth. I can’t believe he, of all people, just said that to me. Blu doesn’t like outsiders anywhere near our shit, let alone on a fuckin’ ride to our sister chapters.
“What the fuck for?” I ask, inhaling.
“She makes you different. I like you when she’s around - you ain’t such an ass,” he says on a laugh.
“Fuck you! She’s been around a few times, Blu,” I tell him flipping my hand through the air.
“Yeah, a few times you weren’t such a dick.” He laughs.
“She’s got the club to handle.” I shove out of my chair and head toward the door. “I’ll be back later. Got some shit I wanna handle before we ride.”
“Heard that.”
I walk into the main room and see Tic standing against the bar looking rather pissed.
“Where’s your head, brother?” He brings his eyes to mine.
“Gone. I just heard that Saints Crossing might cross the fuckin’ line, man.”
My eyes widen when he says that. Saints Crossing is another MC just on the outskirts of town. They’ve never been a problem for us before, but they’ve always wanted a little more reach than we were willing to give them.
“You talk to Blu?” I ask immediately. Tic shakes his head. “Just heard it. Was waitin’ on you to come out.”
“Get the fuck in there and tell him. I got some shit to handle. I’ll be back soon.” Tic nods before heading toward the office. This isn’t what we need right now.
The last time we had an issue with Saints was when my dad was the fucking president of this club. He didn’t handle things back then the way we do now. He was always on the fence about fighting over territory. Now? We will fight to the fucking death because that’s what we do. This is our land. No one makes a move on it without us saying it’s ok. It’s a funny thing to think about for me. My father wouldn’t fight for his land, but he would make his fifteen-year-old son kill a man in cold blood while his kids watched it happen.
I walk over to my bike and grab my helmet, my mind whirling with ideas. A straight fucking ambush sounds good to me right about now. I don’t care who gets in the middle. We will take them all out. One by fucking one.
I rev up my bike and pull out onto the road, throttle it, and go. I need to feel that speed. I need to feel the rush I get when I ride, the way the bike rumbles beneath me. A lot of people call it a death machine, and if you don’t know how to handle it properly, it could be. That’s not me. I know how to handle my machine; I’ve been riding since I was a kid.
The first time my dad threw my ass on the back of his bike I was three. He thrust an oversized helmet into my hands and told me to hold the fuck on. I did, too. I loved it – everything about it. It sent a thrill through my body that nothing could compare to. I guess the asshole did one thing right with me.
I roll through town without a care in the world at the moment. Everything drifts away when I ride. Things will still be there when I get back, but for now, I’m free of it all. I’m about to take the next left through town when I see her standing on the sidewalk. I’d know that ass of hers anywhere.
I pull up at the curb and cut the bike off. I know she heard me pull up. The two other girls she’s with are staring, but Brooke refuses to make eye contact with me. It stirs up something unusual in my chest.
“You tryin’ to avoid me?” I ask. Brooke slowly turns to face me, a haunted look crossing her face.
I climb off the bike quickly and move toward her. Cupping her cheek in my hand, I bring her eyes to mine.
“Talk to me. What’s goin’ on?” I ask again.
Her eyes fill with tears before she says, “My uncle’s dead.”