Starting Over (21 page)

tossed it into the trash. The inside of the book was gone, but the key in the middle of

the hole cut into the pages yielded another key, and she wanted to smack Tuck for his

paranoia. The damned book was under the bed with several skin magazines and an

ashtray filled with butts.

She walked outside to the garage and used the key in the service door to open it

up. “Oh fuck, brother, what were you doing here?”

There was a shrouded car of some sort, and a bike that was painted yellow and

flamed in pussy pink. It was a Heritage softail, and she envied the person that actually

owned the bike. She didn’t resist sitting on the leather seat and gripping the

handlebars. This bike would fit her perfectly, the original owner must have been short

JK Publishing, Inc.

Starting Over by Ryder Dane

like her. It had certainly been well taken care of because the only thing she could see to

complain about was the dust covering the beautiful machine.

She got off the bike with a final sigh and began exploring in the limited lighting.

Remembering what she had to do to find the key to the garage, she started in the

corner of the building and began to look and touch every inch of the walls and cabinets.

She found the name Tuck on a few of the tools and knew she was onto something here.

At last she had proof Tuck was here, and more than likely he’d been moving in, just

before he was murdered by that bastard Wolfman.

In the top drawer she found something that damn near killed her. It was a birthday

card, addressed to:
The best little sister a man could have.

Dear River, I’ve been busy, but I hope you like the softail, I painted it al

girly because I’ve been thinking that you should drop the Dyke thing. You

are beautiful and unless your tastes have changed drastical y, it’s time for

you to be yourself. I’l be home by Christmas, and I hope you let your hair

grow out and can paint some make-up on that pretty face so I can take you

out on the town and show you off. I’l have to fight the scum from coming on

to you, but maybe you can find a decent man that will love you like you

deserve to be loved.

Dallas tells me that you are restless but hanging in there with him while

you wait for me to come home. I’m ready to settle down and grow old,

maybe find an ol’ lady and have a few crumb crunchers crawling around. I’m

not getting any younger, you know. I’m just a few weeks from accomplishing

my goal of bringing that bastard down, and once I do that, I’m hanging the

colors up and joining you and Dallas there. Most of the brothers are great

guys, but there are others that need a noose. Oh well, I’ll have plenty of time

to tell my stories over and over like Dallas does, so you are warned.

BTW, I learned how to use a computer, you were wrong, my damned

head isn’t too thick to learn stuff. Love you kiddo, Tuck

She folded the card and put it back into the envelope, and slid it into the top of her

boot. She wiped the tears away with a grubby hand and continued her search.

It took her three hours to move things out and around the smal space, but she’d

finally found the pen drive. It was stuck in a jar of nuts and bolts, and she wanted to

wring Tuck’s neck yet again. She was greasy and filthy from head to toe, but she would

have the answers and now that she looked at the softail, she would be taking

possession of it in the very near future.

She locked the house and garage just before sunset, and headed back to the motel

to clean up.

The Tech Store was closed by the time she scrubbed the day’s filth from her body

so she settled for dinner at the local Truck Stop up by the highway. They had the good

food, homemade mashed potatoes and gravy coupled with deep fried fish and a nice

big slice of blueberry pie made her feel much better. For some reason the food gave

her a little shot of happy, and she smiled at the cashier on her way out of the door.

Sleep was hard to find even though the bed was comfortable and the sheets were

clean. She dreamed of War and his lips exploring her body. Then Race and his almost

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Starting Over by Ryder Dane

scary form of arousing her body made her groan in the darkness. She wanted those

two like she wanted to breathe, but they had to come to terms and for once they

wouldn’t get the last words.

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Starting Over by Ryder Dane

The cell door opened and the deputy stood with his hand on his belt close to the

taser the dumbass carried. Race had been in solitary for almost two weeks, the judge

had refused to grant bail because he was considered a flight risk. Four times the

prosecutor himself had visited and wanted to know if Race had anything he wanted to

tell him, and four times the man had left with a red face and a hard case of mad. He

kept threatening to “throw the book at you,” and “bury you under the jail.”

Race knew what the fucker was angling for, but he’d be damned if he was going to

pay the son-of-a-bitch off. Or worse, be charged with bribing a court official. The

original charges were petty bul shit, and according to the MC’s suits, they were ready for

a court date to chew the prosecutor into bits.

Now he was being escorted to the front desk. The smug bastard behind the desk

handed him an envelope with his personal possessions inside, and Race checked

everything for signs of tampering. All of his cards, licenses, and pictures had been

stuffed back into the wallet, and he glared at the fat cop.

“I see that you searched my things, you invaded my property and privacy, and

there’s two hundred dol ars missing from my wal et. I want my lawyer to be here, and I

want you to tel him what happened to my money. And where’s my fuckin’ phone?

Goddamned thieving cops anyway.”

He tensed when someone came up beside him and reached for the envelope and

the rest of his possessions. His watch, three gold rings, and a small hoop earring were

dumped on the counter with his smartphone that had the screen smashed and looked

totaled. Race scowled when he saw River standing there.

“What in the hel are you doing here, where’s War and the suits?” He cut his eyes

toward the now red faced cop. “If you fuckers took my goddamned bike and there’s a

scratch on it, someone will be paying.”

River took his arm and handed him the envelope. “Here, put your things back into

the envelope and let’s go. You can file a complaint, come on, tough guy, move it.”

The cop cleared his throat and opened his mouth, but she shut him up with a look,

and the comment, “This fine upstanding officer of the law has a date that should be here

any time now. War is coming down the hall, and as soon as he gets his stuff, we’l

leave quietly and peaceful y, you get me?”

Race nodded his head, but still shot the fucker at the desk a nasty look that

promised retribution. The deputy who had escorted Race from his cell had vanished,

but War’s escort was walking three paces behind the big man and he had his hand on

the butt of his Glock.

War looked like a wild man, his hair was a mess, and the two-week-old beard was

raggedy to say the least. He didn’t look right or left, he walked up to the desk and

snarled at the cop while the deputy removed the cuffs from his wrists and stepped back,

quickly resuming his hand to gun pose.

“Tel this dumb fuck to get his hand off the gun, or does he plan to shoot me in the

back, like the rest of you cowardly fuckers would?”

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Starting Over by Ryder Dane

The desk cop looked at the wary deputy and shook his head, but he turned back to

War and told him to, “Shut the fuck up, asshole.”

River walked toward him slowly and angled herself in beside him, saying, “Hey, you

look like hel , but I decided to take you home.” The look he shot her made her smile.

Yeah, he was happy to see her, but right at the moment he was pissed beyond normal.

“I’ve got Race here too, so look at your stuff quick, it’l be dark soon, and I’m tired

from all the running I’ve been doing for the two of you. Hurry up, let’s go.”

The expensive watch he’d won in a poker game was missing, and his necklace had

been snapped. As with Race, money was missing from his wallet, his phone was

smashed too, and they’d shoved his stuff back into the wal et. “Bunch of thieves, rotten

motherfuckers.”

She was getting tired of listening to the shit about cops being everything from

motherfuckers to pedophiles, so she pinched War on the ass to get his attention.

“Look, I’m tired, I’m ready to take you home, but so help me if the two of you don’t

shut it and get moving I’l leave your asses here.
Let’s go
.”

She was the first one out of the door and by that time she was beginning to regret

springing their asses from jail. It hadn’t taken much to convince the prosecutor to drop

his charges and allow the men to walk free. At least not after she handed one of the

photo screen shots from the pen drive she’d found at Tuck’s place. It was a record of

bribe money paid to the man’s account via wire transfers, and he’d paled right there in

the hallway when she gave it to him on his way to court.

“I suggest that you reconsider the extortion attempt that you are trying to get from

the bikers. I can only imagine what might happen if the originals ended up at the capitol

on a certain desk or two.”

Now they were free, and she was not about to deal with their bullshit. The worry

about them was over, and she still had things to do before she would be ready to deal

with their crap.

Mambo was pulling into the parking lot just as she mounted her yellow bike and she

waved as she started the engine and snugged the helmet onto her head. He was

driving the club’s support vehicle to pick up War and Race. Their bikes had been taken

back to the clubhouse the night that they had been arrested before the cops could

confiscate them, so Race’s rant had been for nothing, but the bikes had been saved

from destruction at the hands of the uncaring tow truck drivers.

She heard the shouts from the men as she revved the softail, but chose to ignore

them and pulled from the lot. She knew she would return to the winery, but not until she

finished her own business. Once she dealt with her brother’s business, she would be

free to deal with her own future.

War was still telling the cop what he thought of police in general and the man

behind the desk looked like he wanted to be anywhere but in front of the big biker

towering over him, when River had slipped out of the door and Race put his hand on

War’s shoulder to get his attention.

“Come on, man, like she said, we’l file a report, it won’t do much good, but that’s

what happens when people stop getting juice money, they want that income, so they

steal it.”

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Starting Over by Ryder Dane

War snarled at the cop again and grabbed his shit from the table. He continued to

mumble about “lowlife fuckers” even as they walked into the late afternoon sunshine.

They saw River sitting on a bright yellow softail and when she appeared to be

leaving without talking to them, they yelled at her to wait up. She kept on riding, and

that pissed them off.

“What the fuck, she gets us out and takes off. Oh I’m gonna bust her ass when I

get my hands on her.” Race stomped down the steps even as War had already made it

to the bottom stair. “I’m gonna tie her little ass to the bed and after I’m done spanking

her, I’m gonna fuck her until she can’t move.”

War nodded in agreement as they walked toward the van. “As soon as I get a

fuckin’ shower and clean up, going looking for her and when I get a hold on her little

ass, she won’t be so sassy mouthed. She pinched me, and told me to shut up. What

the hell is she playing at anyway? Run in, get the helpless badasses out of jail, and

disappear? She’s been gone for fuckin’ months and thinks she can just waltz in and run

back out. She needs a lesson alright, and she’d gonna get one.”

Race stopped at the door of the van and looked at Mambo accusingly. “Why didn’t