Chapter 1
Knox
“The fuck are they doin’ now?” I asked.
“They’re knocking on the damn door again, and I don’t like it,” Grave said.
“What the hell did they think they were gonna be doing? Shoving us out of our own territory?” Mick asked.
“What do we do from here?” Rock asked. “Anyone got any ideas?”
The Black Saddles were known for their shitty maneuvers and their pushy tactics. They knew where the territorial boundaries were, but they were startin’ to blur the damn lines. We kept to ourselves and we expected them to do the fuckin’ same, but they weren’t havin’ it. They wanted our territory enough to posture for it, and multiple warning shots had been fired off over the past couple of weeks. We’d chased them out of more alleyways and broken up more fights on our own damn town than we’d ever had to do before, and I was gettin’ damn tired of it all.
“This supposed to be some kind of damn mission? Or are we pow-wowwin’?” Brewer asked.
“The Rebel Skulls don’t pow-wow,” I said. “But you’re startin’ to get on my damn nerves.”
“We’re supposed to be doing surveillance,” Mick said. “So… what do we see?”
“A bunch of pussy assholes who don’t wanna adhere to boundaries,” I said.
“So… a bunch of Graves?” Rock asked with a smirk.
Grave slapped him on the back of the head, almost knockin’ the man off his damn bike.
“Settle down, kids,” Brewer said. “We don’t wanna get too loud. I see some of them up ahead.”
We all turned our attention on the assholes walkin’ around in leather cuts with a pin up girl riding on a Harley as their back patch. The called themselves The Black Saddles and they were a newer club in town.
“The fuck you think they’re doing?” Grave asked.
“Snoopin’ around, that’s what,” I said. “And we can’t have them doin’ that. Not with so many jobs out right now.”
Our crew ran and laundered money for a hefty price on whoever wanted to use our channels. We had a monopoly on it on this side of the country. The hot ass desert was the perfect place to do something like this because no one expected tens of thousands of dollars to be filtered through shabby shacks in the fuckin’ dessert. McAllen, Texas was our city, and since it bordered the Chihuahuan Desert, it was the perfect place to conceal our operations.
But The Black Saddles were threatening to blow that shit sky high.
The last thing we needed was the feds coming into our damn town because of some nosey, loud ass biker crew and stirring up trouble. And if these fuckers rolled up in here trying to take what was ours, we would fight for it.
“You guys. Come here. It’s T.J.,” Brewer said.
We all hopped off our bikes and surrounded Brewer’s body to listen in on the phone call.
“You guys all there?” T.J. asked.
“Yup,” Mick said. “Hit us with it.”
“I got a tip that The Black Saddles are having some dumbass party in the woods on the other side of McAllen.”
“So the ‘not desert’ part. Got it,” I said.
“Don’t get smart, Knox. It doesn’t suit you,” T.J. said. “You’re no longer doing surveillance. You’re going to that damn party.”
“And shooting them dead?” Grave asked.
“Not today, Grave. Save your bloodlust for later. Make it an informal meeting. Go with beer or whatever the fuck it is those toad-heads wanna drink.”
“You want us to set formal boundaries,” Brewer said.
“Yep. And you guys are gonna get it done. Don’t swing the first punch and you sure as hell don’t blow off the first round. But if things get hairy with them, bury ’em in the ground,” T.J. said.
“I like the sound of that,” Grave said with a grin.
“And make sure our hot-head doesn’t massacre them,” T.J. said.
“We’ll make sure he’s locked down,” Rock said.
“I don’t need a damn babysitter,” Grave said.
“Nope. Just maybe some meds,” I said.
“Call me when it’s done,” T.J. said.
“Will do,” Brewer said.
We all got on our bikes and headed for the other side of McAllen. The lazy, desolate town was populated pretty well and sat right between two very distinct areas of Texas. One side was desert, the other side flourished with trees and other green shit. We parked our bikes at a gas station and grabbed a case of beer, then set out for the woods. We could already hear them partying up a storm. Loud as fuck with a massive fire raging in the middle of the woods. Like they weren’t risking burning the damn place down altogether. Reckless crews were the worst. Loud as hell, thought their dicks swung to the ground, and had nothing to back up their threats.
“Well, lookie who we have here.”
“The fuck they doin’ here?”
“You guys lookin’ for a fight?”
“Nope,” Brewer said. “Just came here to talk.”
“Talk? The hell you guys wanna talk about?”
Two distinct individuals parted themselves from the group and started for us. One of them had this mass of hair on his head and a crazy look in his eye. The other guy had a leather cut on that didn’t match the rest of the crews.
Meant he was a prospect.
The Black Saddles had fuckin’ prospects fighting their damn battles.
“And you are?” I asked
“Rex,” the guy with the hair said. “This here’s Blaze.”
“You a prospect, Blaze?” I asked.
“The fuck does that matter for?” he asked.
“Just… wonderin’,” I said, my eyes sizing them both up. If shit hit the fan my guys and I could take them.
“We come with beer,” Brewer said. “All we wanna do is talk.”
“‘Bout what?” Rex asked.
“We want to draw some lines,” Grave said. “We think some wires have gotten crossed as to who owns what in this town.”
“Naw. Don’t think lines have gotten crossed at all,” Blaze said.
“With no due respect whatsoever, you’re a prospect. And by the clean shaven look of yours, you haven’t been one for long,” I said. “So let the adults talk while you take care of the beer.”
Brewer thrust the beer into Blaze’s arms as his eyes grew wide with anger.
“What boundaries you wanna discuss?” Rex asked.
“McAllen is ours. All of it,” Rock said. “Including thirty miles into this forestry and thirty miles into the desert on all sides.”
“And who drew those lines?” Rex asked.
“We did, when we settled. Eleven years ago,” I said.
“So, you guys think ya got grandfathered into some place and now you’re scared because ya got company?” Blaze asked.
My eyes panned over to the prospect as he dropped the beer to the ground.
“Gas station beer’s the pits,” Blaze said flatly.
“Better than the swill you’re probably drinking’,” I said.
“We might be new, but we ain’t new to how this works,” Rex said. “You want your territory, you defend it. Wars have been fought over less in the South. You want it, come and get it.”
“Fine by me,” I said.
I took a step towards Blaze and he threw the first punch. Then, all hell broke loose. My men were throwing punches and pulling out guns, poppinh off shots and splintering trees. I cracked my hand against Blaze’s jaw before I felt his fist connect with my stomach. I went stumbling to the ground, hitting my knees as I gasped for air. I watched Blaze’s nasty ass boots scoot underneath my gaze as his hand reached down for my hair, and he pulled my face back to see him as I watched blood trickle down his chin.
“Ya look good on your knees like that. Reminds me of your sister, Canyon. ‘Cept she’ll be facing away from me when it happens.”
My vision dripped with red as I balled up my fists. No one knew about my family. No one outside of my immediate crew. Grave, Brewer, Rock, Mick, and T.J. They were my family, so it was only fitting they knew about mine. No one else outside of them were supposed to know about her.
And yet, someone did.
When I got involved with the club, I made myself distant from my family to protect them. My father left us all when I was young, and I watched my mother rise up like the strong woman she was to take care of us. But I pulled away from her when I became a prospect in order to protect her. In order to save her from the life of darkness I was beginning to enjoy.
Until I had to drop Canyon off with her.
No one knows the truth about Canyon, and no one ever will. But even this dumbass club knowing I had a sister was too much for me. Her name was to be kept out of their mouths, or I’d break their jaws so they couldn’t keep her name in it. That little girl was precious to me. More precious than anyone could ever imagine.
Because she wasn’t my sister like I’d told everyone. I lied to keep her safe.
Canyon was really my daughter.
I lunged up off my knees and nailed Blaze in his dick. He bent over, grabbing at himself and sinking to his own knees. My leg came up and nailed him in the nose and I felt it crack underneath the pressure.
That was when he fell to the ground.
I brought my boot back and kicked Blaze right in his gut. I heard him gasping for air as I reared my leg back, kicking him again as his ribs gave way. I kicked and I kicked, busting ribs and heel stompinh his head into the ground. By the time I was done with that asshole, he was gonna know to keep Canyon’s name out of his fuckin’ mouth. Especially when it came to the vile, filthy bullshit he had just spilled.
My daughter was ten fuckin’ years old.
What the hell was wrong with him?
“Knox! Knox! Shit, man. Come on!”
I heard Grave’s voice off in the distance as a pair of arms wrapped around my body.
“Come on. We gotta get out of here,” Grave said. “Shit.”
I heard the sound of sirens off in the distance and saw guys scattering all over the damn place. I took off after Grave, the blood on my boot leaving a trail behind me. Branches were smacking me in the face as we ran for the gas station, my legs carrying me as fast as I could possibly go.
But the cops were already running after us, and we knew we had to hide if we had any chance of getting away from them.
We all ducked down into holes and hid ourselves behind trees. We lined our steps up with the cops we could see as their flashlights whipped around the forest. I slowed my breathing down and crept silently like a snake, inching closer to our bikes as the gas station finally came into view.
Then, when we thought the coast was clear, we made a mad dash for the parking lot.
Everyone cleared out and I took one last look behind us. The last thing we needed was some fuckin’ priggish cops following us all the way back to our place. But before I could crank up my bike, I heard a voice behind me.
And I knew I’d been caught.
“Well if it isn’t Knox.”
I gritted my teeth and turned my head as I kicked the stand up on my bike.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” the cop said.
“Officer Layton.”
“What brings you out here this time of night?” he asked.
“Just… hangin’ out,” I said.
I knew I couldn’t outrun him. The cop cars were blaring their lights in the gas station parking lot, and they would chase me down until I ran out of gas. Running from them now made it risky to go anywhere. To my mom’s to check on Canyon. To the lodge to meet up with the guys. To my apartment that was supposed to be sacred. I was stuck between a rock and a hard place, and as the cop gazed down at my boot I saw him reach for his cuffs.
“You’re under arrest,” the officer said.
“What the hell for?” I asked.
He grabbed my wrist and whipped it behind my body as I kicked the stand back down on my bike.
He slapped the bracelets on me and yanked me off my bike. I watched someone come and wipe the blood off my boots before putting that shit in some fuckin’ evidence bag. I looked over towards the woods and saw some men emerging from them, carrying a massive black bag as they headed towards the ambulance.
I felt the blood drain from my face as I watched them load the dead body into the back.
“For the murder of Andrew Shepard,” the cop said.
“Don’t know anyone by that name,” I said.
“Figured you wouldn’t. But you might recognize his nickname.”
“Oh really? And what’s his fun little nickname?” I asked.
“Blaze,” the cop said. “The man’s name is Blaze.”