Shooter (Burnout) (45 page)

Chris groaned inwardly. Leave it to Jack to realize that the grizzled Number Three was just a Napoleon-in-Exile and exploit his need to regain power.

Number Three made it clear that the only vote was “yes” for the minority one third. Jack tipped his metaphorical hat at the man, tossed the keys to the panel truck full of weed to his own second and bid the Kamloops Kings good day. Chris, reluctantly, helped the Buzzard’s second to put his bike in the back of the panel truck and then walked to his own Harley.

He straddled his bike, grabbed his helmet, and glared at Prior as he put it on. In a low voice he asked, “What are the odds this place’ll be a mass grave after we leave?”

Prior shrugged. “Ain’t my problem. Got in, got out, got paid, and you kept your cool, like I knew you would.”

Chris ground his molars. “So we’re square.”

“Oh, we’re square.”

Prior signaled to the Buzzards to mount up and the group headed back out the highway. Chris didn’t spare a backwards glance for the poor sons of bitches they were leaving behind. At least they were one percenters, he told himself. They had to know what kind of life they were signing up for and that it might lead to an early grave.

At the first opportunity, Chris signaled to Hawk and Easy to break off from the pack. They took highway 12 to 73 South rather than share 85 with Prior and the Buzzards. At a rest stop, he called Tex to let him know that he didn’t need to grab Slick and high-tail it south and all was well. Or mostly well. Jimmy hadn’t said much after watching the murder of a guy his own damn age and Hawk was just as reticent. Neither of them appeared to be mad at Chris, though, and he thought that was something, at least. Tex could tell by the tone of his voice that while they may have made it through unscathed, Chris was definitely troubled. He knew better, though, than to ask over a cell phone for details.

It was sunset now and soon it would be dark out. Chris wished fervently that Slick was on his bike and they were riding through the stars, neither of them concerned with death and dying.

Chapter 34

Hayley lay awake watching Chris sleeping beside her. He had returned from his dealings with Preacher in one piece from what she could tell. He’d held her and told her that everything was okay. He wasn’t hurt and neither were the boys and she supposed that was something, at least. She’d considered asking him what had gone wrong, though. Because clearly something had. He wasn’t nearly as relieved as it seemed to her that he should have been.

Hayley wasn’t certain she wanted to know how sideways a guns-for-drugs swap could go, however. With a one percenter MC like the Buzzards, she imagined several worst case scenarios. So she acknowledged to herself that she probably didn’t want to know, but neither did she want Chris to should his burden alone.

In the end she’d simply asked him if he wanted to talk about it. Chris shook his head and confirmed that she didn’t need to know or worry about it. It was over, he’d told her. He’d promised her that the debt to Preacher Prior was paid in full.

Chris had thrown himself into his work after that, citing his need to get his custom bike orders ready for the rally in Sturgis next week. Hayley might have assumed it was his way of coping with the trouble that she had brought down on them, and to some it extent it probably was. But each night Chris came home from the garage, he kept her close. And so because he wasn’t pushing her away she decided it meant that they could, and would, move past it.

She renewed her determination to keep things running smoothly. Since their return from North Carolina, Chris has insisted on buying her a new cell phone for safety reasons and also on driving her to and from the bar, even though it meant ditching Tex and Hawk and leaving them short-handed at the garage for an hour every day.

In spite of his precautionary measures, Hayley felt there was no danger at this point. Chris had meticulously checked to see if anyone had followed them both before returning the rental car in Virginia and the entire way home as well. He’d been satisfied that they had not been followed, but still hadn’t settled into the same ease of comfort he‘d had before the trip. But given the sacrifices that he’d had to make on her behalf as a direct result of her having tried to sneak away, Hayley wasn’t about to argue over her, most likely, armed escort around Rapid City.

She was fairly certain that Chris’ vigilance was due to her personal troubles, though, and had nothing to do with the Buzzards, since neither Chris nor the boys so much as acknowledged the members of the MC when they crossed paths at Maria’s.

On Wednesday, she awoke to the sound of voices in the living room. She entered the living room to find Jimmy and Chris speaking in earnest. They both turned their attention to her as she entered the living room.

“We’re rolling out late this afternoon,” Chris informed her. Hayley didn’t have to ask where. “I’ll keep my cell phone on and Easy’s staying in town with you.”

Hayley nodded. She enjoyed working at Maria’s and was pretty comfortable with the patrons, but she had no interest in visiting a town that had been laid siege to by thousands of bikers. Sturgis was not her scene.

“Stay safe,” he told her, “and don’t let your guard down. I’ll be home in two days.”

It was the first of two promises to her that Chris would break.

***************************

Hayley was slow to rouse from sleeping. At first she forgot that Chris was gone. She was trying to focus on what had woken her when the door bell rang, presumably for the second time. She glanced at the clock and Chris’ side of the bed. 11:27 pm.

Cautiously she got up and crept down the hallway. She was reaching for her cell phone, charging on the breakfast bar when a baritone voice she didn’t recognize said, “South Dakota Highway Patrol.”

Hayley’s hand froze. A knot of fear tightened in her belly. She snatched the phone off the counter and flew to the door. She flipped on the porch light and peeked through the blinds. A gold highway patrol insignia glinted from the Trooper’s hat. Beyond him, a white cruiser with a red stripe was parked against the curb.

“Yes?” Haley barely managed to get out.

The Trooper turned his gaze from the door to the window. “Ma’am,” he drawled. “Highway Patrol, Ma’am.”

Hayley punched in the code for the alarm system and unlocked the door.

“Ma’am,” the Trooper repeated. “I’m sorry to have woken you. But we’ve had an accident. Up on 90, outside of Sturgis.”

Hayley’s knees threatened to buckle.

The Trooper checked a small notebook in his hands. “A, uh, Christopher David Sullivan gave this address. For family notification. A,” he glanced back up at her, “Hayley Turner? Is that you, Ma’am?”

Hayley nodded and frowned at her phone. Why hadn’t Hawk or Tex called? As if he read her mind, the Trooper said, “It’s a hell of a mess, Ma’am. I wasn’t there myself. Got radioed because I was closest to Rapid City.”

“He has friends with him,” she replied, hoping against hope.

Hayley couldn’t help but fear the worst, though. The Trooper looked down at his little notebook and shook his head. Her heart threatened to stop, but instead of delivering another blow he simply said, “Don’t have anything on other possible injured. I-” He cleared his throat. “I do know it’s a tractor-trailer involved. They might not know more yet.”

Hayley’s hands shook so badly that she nearly dropped her new cell phone. She wouldn’t be able to stop shaking long enough to call Jimmy, anyway. She pocketed the phone, spun away from the Trooper, and grabbed her shoes that were sitting by the door.

“My- our- friend lives next door,” she practically shouted in her nervousness. “We need to get him.”

The Trooper gave her a nod. “Yes, Ma’am. I can either give you both a ride to Lead Regional or you can go with him if you feel he’ll be okay to drive.”

Hayley faltered while putting on her shoes. Okay to drive. How was she going to tell Jimmy that one or more of his brothers was seriously injured? Possibly dead? She could barely deal with the news herself.

She shook her head and yanked on her shoes. Whatever happened, she had Jimmy and he had her and they would face it together. She got her keys off the counter and set the alarm for the the door. She locked it behind her.

“He’s just next door,” she told the Trooper, nodding at the little blue house.

The Trooper turned to gaze in the direction she’d indicated. “Looks like he’s asleep,” he replied, noting the dark windows.

“I’ll get him,” Hayley announced turning away from the door and moving quickly down the steps.

“I’ll go with you, Ma’am.”

Hayley blacked out before she made it to the bottom step.

*************************

Chris sighed and drummed his hands on the wheel of his truck. The custom bikes were tarped and secured in the bed, all squared away for the delivery to Sturgis, though it had taken much longer to load it than he would have liked. Between loading and increased traffic, the usually 30 minute drive to Sturgis was beginning to seem like a long haul.

Traffic in and out of the smaller town during the rally was always a nightmare. But this year it was much worse. There were fewer Troopers by far this year, directing traffic in and out of the city. Sturgis PD was a small force and in no way had the manpower to handle the massive influx into their tiny town by themselves. But the rally in Sturgis had been an annual event for longer than Chris had been alive and it was unusual for the town to be caught with its pants down.

As Chris nudged approximately six inches forward before stopping again, he rolled down his window and nodded to the Statie who’d parked his cruiser in the center line. The Trooper set his gold-insigniad hat back on his his head and walked over. Chris smiled at him.

“Trouble this year?” Chris asked, nodding at the standstill traffic.

The Trooper did not return the smile but nodded. He fixed his mouth into a grim line. ‘Short-handed,” he confirmed.

“How’s that?” Chris asked.

The corners of the Trooper’s mouth turned down, revealing etched lines that made him look much older now. “One of ours disappeared on shift.”

Chris shot a surprised look at the Trooper, then Tex, and Hawk in the rear cab. “Damn,” Chris muttered. “Keep my mouth shut, then.”

The Trooper’s mouth twitched a little.

“Good luck to you,” Tex offered from the passenger seat. The Trooper nodded his thanks and walked away.

Chris put the truck in park, surrendering to the battle of Sturgis traffic in August. He dug out his phone and called Hayley. She didn’t answer but he wasn’t surprised. It was two and a half hours past the time he’d estimated they’d be in Sturgis.

He listened to her voice mail greeting and waited for the beep. “Hey, Slick. It’s late. You’re in the rack. Don’t blame you. We’re here, or near enough,” he corrected, looking around. “Call you tomorrow morning.” He disconnected the call and pocketed the phone.

He loved his job. He normally loved the Rally, which he’d been going to since he was old enough to hitch there. But given the way things had gone lately, he’d just rather be home with his woman. He sighed in frustration.

An hour after that, they had made it into Sturgis proper, by six inch increments, and pulled into the parking lot of the motel where they’d booked rooms in advance. He backed the Ford into the space in front of his own room. He preferred a motel to a hotel so they could keep an eye on the bikes until delivery tomorrow. It was another reason he was glad Slick hadn’t wanted to come. A motel wasn’t nearly as safe and she didn’t need to be staying in one.

He hit the rack in room 1D, with Hawk and Tex in the two adjacent rooms. He set his cell phone on the nightstand and plugged in the charger. He set his boots on the floor next to the bed and closed his eyes. He would’ve liked to sleep in a little tomorrow morning given how worn out he was. But between Hawk’s commitment to breakfast, his own desire to connect with Hayley, and his army training, he wouldn’t put odds on getting any extra sleep.