Old Man's Ride: Dust Bowl Devils MC (5 page)

“
Anchor,” he said, “What’s happening? I told you to just call.”

“
They’re moving her tonight,” a man replied. “We have to go, now.” I retrieved clean underwear from my backpack and pulled them and my jeans on as I listened in.

“
Right now? Fuck. Okay.” The stranger waited in the doorway while Nomad retrieved his boots. Finally dressed, I stepped out where I could see the guy - Anchor. He wore the club colors on his jacket; he was short, stocky, and somewhat balding. I’d bet he knew Nomad from their own generation of the club.
Nomad aged much better, though.

He eyed me with alarm. “There is a girl here.”

“
Well, she ain’t a ghost,” Nomad replied.

“
I thought they were mistaken. She isn’t safe here. They’re pissed about what you did to their bar and they’re sending someone to wait for you to leave.”

“
This just keeps getting better and better, doesn’t it.” Nomad shook his head. He pulled a gun from one of the drawers, and my eyes went wide. I hadn’t even realized he’d brought one in the room. It was generally safe to assume any of the Devils were armed, but it was still disconcerting when a weapon showed up seemingly out of thin air.

“
Alright, honey, you’re gonna have to come with us. I’ll look for a safe place to stash you once we’re in the area. I think I’ll want to keep you in sight, though.”

I was no stranger to fights and rivalries and violence, but this was a bit much, and definitely more than I bargained for when I started this trip. “I should have taken the bus.”

---

We didn’t ride further into town as I’d expected, but back onto the highway and off the next exit. The strip club sat at the end of a long gravel road, lit up with white and red lights. The billboard read “XXX Eagle’s Starlets” Another MC owned joint. This didn’t belong to the Dust Bowl Devils, though, it belonged to one of their rivals, the Northern Eagles.
Oh, God.
Whatever this was about, it would probably end in violence.

Nomad parked the bike and I off in the woods before we even reached the parking lot. “Just stay here,” he said, “And be silent.”

“
What’s going on?”

He hesitated. He actually seemed to want to tell me. That alone was a surprise - normally I just expected to be kept in the dark. “Do you remember Whitney?” he asked.

I nodded. She was older than me - I remember being a freshman in high school and seeing her around, jealous of her popularity and beauty. She’d been put in the same position as me, and had taken the same option - she left. That was four or five years ago, now. It was a much bigger scandal at the time, since her father was a full member of the club. I didn’t matter as much.

“
We’re here to bring her home.”

“
Oh.” I looked behind him at the billboard again. Even if she’d been given the boot, the club wouldn’t be happy with her working for their rivals.

“
So, be careful.” He hopped on the back of Anchor’s bike, and they sped into the parking lot, spitting gravel and revving the engine and just making as much noise as they could.

The fact that he’d left me with his bike said a lot.
He trusts me.
Whatever strange relationship was blooming between us, whether it would be short-lived, or if it was over already, he’d decided he trusted me. That was a lot, coming from a former MC president.

The parking lot wasn’t full, but there were cars parked in maybe half the spaces. Anchor and Nomad rode in a doughnut circle in the middle of the space. Finally, his engine cut off, and I heard voices. I couldn’t see the front door, couldn’t see who they were talking to. I wanted to sneak closer but I was afraid to leave the bike. If Nomad came back to find me alone and the bike missing, he’d likely wring my neck.

A woman screamed.
Shit.
I knew from past experience, a woman screaming didn’t necessarily mean the fight would end badly or even that there’d be a fight at all. But it wasn’t a good sign, either. I rested my hand on the key.
He left the key!
Maybe he didn’t trust me - maybe he’d simply lost his mind.

I wish I could hear what they're saying.
I definitely heard raised voices, now.
Trouble.

BANG.
I jumped.
That was a fucking gun
. I moved quickly. This wouldn't be my first gunfight. It was another lesson from my youth - violently tamp down your panic. I turned the key, clipped my helmet back on, revved the engine, kicked up the stand, and burst through the branches in front of me. I should have been more worried about the guns, but all I was thinking was "Don't scratch the bike."

If there were more shots, I couldn't hear them. A big man with a long black beard stood just a few feet from the front door. A woman crouched at his feet.
Whitney
. He fired his gun into the parking lot, at the cars.

A second man, this one bald, stood off to the side behind another row of cars firing as well. I couldn't see Anchor or Nomad anywhere.
Ducking behind the cars. Unharmed, I hope
.

My heart was racing. I could hear the blood rushing in my head, feel my lungs taking big, shaky gulps of air, but I bottled up those feelings and thought quickly and clearly. I didn't want to risk Whitney's safety, so I turned towards the bald guy and accelerated. As he turned and aimed at me, I wondered in passing if my helmet was bulletproof.

I jerked the steering right, then left, making an erratic path towards him.
Unpredictable moving targets are harder to hit
. At the last moment of my approach, when I could see the whites of his eyes, he tried to dive out of my way.

He was too slow. The front tire clipped his ass mid-dive and sent him sprawling. The gun flew from his hands and slid beneath the cars.

I wasted no time. I jumped from the bike and tried to ease its fall, but, it fell.
Nomad will have a fit
.

Removing my helmet as I ran, I reached the bald guy before he could scramble to his feet, dazed as he was by the fall.

I swung and slammed my helmet against the back of his head. He fell forward again with a howl. "Fucking bitch!"

Then, Nomad was towering above him, a gun in each hand. The man clamped his mouth shut and showed his palms as he sat up.

"That's right," Nomad said, "Fight's over. She got you." He extended one of the guns toward me. I shook my head, but I took it when he glared. "She's keeping your gun. You're lucky we don't burn this place down."

I was buzzing all over with adrenaline, but again kept a tight reign on myself. Now was not the time to whoop and holler with our victory, or to grab and kiss Nomad, who looked darkly sexy when he was so angry. "Where's Whitney?" I asked. I held the weapon away from me, like a dead rat.

"Tuck that away," he growled. I shoved it into the back of my pants the way the other guys did. "I told you to stay where you were."

"Did I save your ass, or did I save your ass?" He scowled. "Is she okay?"

He practically knocked me aside as he strode towards his bike. "See for yourself."

I found her standing above the prone figure of the bearded man. Anchor was on his knees, binding the guy's hands.

"We're not killing anybody!" he insisted.

I never got to find out if she was arguing for or against killing the guy. She spotted me and cried out "Lily!" Then crushed me in a big hug. "What on earth are you doing out here? Did you seriously ride down that guy?"

I laughed. "I did. Are you okay?"

"Yeah. I thought I was done for, but they shot John here in the knee." She sighed. "Guess I'm heading home. I never got very far."

I mumbled, "I haven't yet, either."

Nomad wheeled his bike over, grimacing the whole way.
Oh, no, I've hurt the bike
.

"Is it okay?" I asked timidly. He glared. His green eyes were cold. They held none of the passion we'd shared anymore, none of the affection I'd come to crave. An icy feeling washed over me. The fear I hadn't felt when I'd rushed into action came flooding back now, and I shivered and rubbed my arms.
He's really angry.

I may have saved the day, but I'd destroyed whatever had grown between us.

---

The sun was rising when I rode to the motel on the back of Anchor's bike. Whitney rode with Nomad. He made me wait outside while he gathered our things from the room - it wouldn't be wise to stay in town any longer.

I shifted in uncomfortably on the seat. My ass still stung something fierce. It felt like such a long time ago now, it seemed like it should have healed, but in reality it had been less than a day since he'd bent me over his knee. Less than a day to totally fall for him, surrender to him, and then fuck it up completely.

It was a long drive back home. It had seemed so much shorter when I’d ridden out with Nomad - we left my apartment in the late afternoon and stopped just after sundown. We couldn't have been in the road for more than four or five hours, and the time flew by. But I was full of excitement then - fear, yes, but I was embarking on a new journey, freeing myself from my old life, and riding with a handsome older man who maybe, just maybe, might think I was pretty.

Now, I was filled with dread.

I'll pack a few more of my things and catch a bus instead
. There was no way Nomad would want me to ride with him now. Not after I'd driven and damaged his bike. It was an act of blasphemy. Men got stabbed for less.

When we were finally home, we went straight to Bill's house. He lived on a quiet street, not at all like the busy commercial district where my mom's apartment was. I stashed my gun in Anchor’s pack before following them up the driveway. I didn’t want it. In fact, I hoped I’d never see it again.

Bill ushered us all inside as if he'd been expecting us.

"You two, go sit in the kitchen," he said to Whitney and I. Then they disappeared into his office and shut the door.

"Shit," I said with a sigh. We leaned against the kitchen counter, still stretching our legs after the long ride.

"What's wrong?" Whitney asked.

"I think I'm in trouble."

She made a face. "You saved our asses. I didn't see what happened after you hit that guy, but it distracted John long enough for Anchor to put a bullet in his leg and take his gun. And I'll tell them that."

"What happened to you?" I asked, "I thought you had plans to head to San Diego, last I heard."

She snorted with derision. "Northern Eagle territory was as far as I got. I met a guy who I thought was nice." She looked at her feet. "He wasn't. It took a long time to convince my parents I was actually in trouble. They thought I was being dramatic because I couldn't make it on my own. Once they realized I was serious, though..." She shrugged.

"They sent Anchor and Nomad."

"Yeah. My dad wanted to go, but he hurt his back kind of recently." She sniffled. "I just hope they're happy to see me, and they're not in a rush to kick me back out."

"Of course they'll be happy."

She wiped her eyes. "What the heck were you doing out there?"

"Bill ran me out of town. I hitched a ride with Nomad." I chuckled. "Guess I didn't get very far, either. I'm gonna just catch a bus going wherever, if they don't kill me first."

"Well, they'll have to go through me."

We raided their refrigerator. If they couldn't be bothered to have the manners to offer us a drink, then we weren't going to sit around and wait politely.

We were sitting at the table sipping coffee when they finally emerged. Their faces were grim.

"Your family is coming to pick you up," Bill told Whitney, "Go wait outside."

She looked at me with concern. "Lily really saved our butts out there, Bill, she didn't -"

"I know," he cut her off. "She's not in trouble. Go."

I didn't trust Bill enough to feel relief yet, but I nodded at Whitney.

"All right," she said, offering me a small smile. "Thanks again."

They didn't speak until they heard her close the front door. They remained standing, towering over me, too close to allow me to get up unless I backed my chair away.

"It's up to Nomad what to do with you for the crime of driving and damaging his bike," Bill said.

I looked to him, but his green eyes gave away nothing.

"Secondly," Bill went on, "We have something for you." He pushed something at me - black, leather - it was a jacket. On the front pocket was a patch that said, simply, "Prospect." "You spilled blood on behalf of the club. By our laws, we have to give you a chance at full membership." He bent closer - close enough for me to smell his aftershave and the beer on his breath. "In conclusion, you get to stay." They both stepped back. "Now. Put it on."

My knees were shaking so hard, I don't even know how I stood. I was floored. I expected punishment, I expected to be kicked back out of town... this has never crossed my mind. The familiar leather smell filled my nose as I slipped the jacket on.