Finally, his hand is extended. “Shades, Evil Dead VP, Birmingham Chapter. Thanks for your help, Saint.”
I shake his hand, and the second man extends his. “Ghost. Appreciate you stoppin’.”
“Glad I was in the right place at the right time to help.”
Shades circles his muddy bike, examining the damage. He pulls out his phone and flicks on the flashlight function, then squats and messes with the shifter, then examines his rims, running a hand around them.
Ghost leans down, and with their heads together, they check the entire bike for damage. “Thank fuck your fork’s not bent.”
Shades pounds his boot on the footpad, bending it pack into place.
“We need to haul ass and catch up to the fucking trucker. Beat the shit outta him for this.” Ghost gestures to the bike.
Shades gives a smirk, straightening. “That’s what we get for coming across the State Line to buy lottery tickets. Every time I visit this damn state I get fucked, and not in a good way.”
I see the humor in his eyes when he looks at me, and I can’t help but return his chuckle.
He points to his club brother. “Let’s get lottery tickets, he said. The pots up to three hundred million, he said. It’ll only take a minute, he said. When am I gonna stop listening to you, Ghost?”
“Shut up, VP. You wanted tickets, too.” Ghost slugs his VP in the shoulder.
Shades throws his arm around Ghost’s neck and slams his palm into his chest. “Just glad you’re okay, bro.”
Ghost shoves his hand off, coughing. “Thanks, but I’ve already had the wind knocked out of me once tonight. Don’t need you pounding on what’s left of my lungs.”
Shades grins, then digs in his vest pocket and pulls out a rumpled card, and holds it out to me between two fingers. “Hey man, we owe you one. You call that marker in anytime you need help, understand?”
I take it and we shake hands. “Appreciate it.”
He lifts his chin. “I’ll be sure to pass the word to your sponsor about how you represented your club well tonight, and that we hold you in the highest regard, kid.”
I’m stunned, but I try not to let it show. “I’d be grateful.”
Ghost extends his hand. “We owe ya one, kid. You ever get to Birmingham; stop by the clubhouse for a drink. Avenue D, Ensley.”
“Thanks. I’d like that.”
I tuck the card in my pocket, and wait while they fire up their bikes, just to make sure they’re good to go. Then I lift my chin to their nods, and jog back across the interstate to my own bike. They pull out, each lifting an arm in respect as they roar off.
I stare at their glowing taillights disappearing into the distance, and then fire my own bike up.
Holy fuck. What a night. But it sure feels good to have that marker in my pocket.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Saint—
I’m passed out on the couch, apparently dead to the fucking world when something kicks my leg. I’ve got my arm thrown over my face, and I jump, pulling it off. I hate to be startled awake, especially given what I do. I squint against the daylight streaming into my living room and up at the large figure looming over me.
“Get up, motherfucker,” Bear growls, tucking his long hair behind his ear. My eyes open wide. What the fuck is the Nomad doing in my house? I see Crow and Mako, reclining in the upholstered chairs across the room. Besides myself, those two are the only ones left prospecting for the Kings, so the three of us get the shit jobs divvied up amongst us. For my sake, I hope I’m the next one patched, before there are fewer of us to divide crap jobs amongst.
I swing to a sitting position and rub the sleep from my tired eyes. I yawn and scratch my bare chest, then lean my elbows on my knees, my faded jeans from last night still on.
I hear the shower running at the exact moment Bear cocks his head.
“You got company, Saint?”
Any shred of tiredness remaining vanishes. I push to my feet, trying not to let my panic show. Fuck.
“Who’s over?” Crow asks, ever the curious one.
“None of your fuckin’ business,” I growl and head to the kitchen. “Who wants a cold one?”
A chair creaks and then Mako is leaning on the doorframe. “You let a bitch spend the night? Thought you swore you never brought ‘em home.”
Bear chuckles, moving to stand in the doorway. “If it’s the right bitch, those rules go out the fuckin’ window. Ain’t that right, Saint?”
I hand him a beer, and grin, hoping to avoid answering. I change the subject. “What time is it?”
“Noon,” he replies. “Heard you had an eventful night.”
I’ve got a bottle tipped back when he says it, and I drop it from my lips quick enough, wondering what he knows. “Yeah?”
Mako chuckles. “Heard you had to take Magnolia home.”
“That’s not all I heard.” Bear folds his arms and grins.
“What’d you hear?” I stare him down.
“VP of the Evil Dead called the clubhouse this morning. Told Chaos and Sly about how you helped them out last night. Talked you up big-time, prospect.”
“Really?” I’m shocked they actually followed through with that, and didn’t waste any time doing it, apparently.
A creak lets me know Kami’s coming out of the bathroom.
“Hey, darlin’. Nice towel. Why don’t you drop it and come on over here and climb on my lap.” Crow’s voice carries from the other room. It’s laced with humor, but I still want to plow my fist in his face.
Bear looks over his shoulder, his eyes sweeping top to bottom. Mako does the same.
Bear swings back to me, arching a brow. “Nice, kid.”
I say the first stupid thing that comes to mind. “She’s my fuckin’ sister, assholes.”
That has them all straightening nervously.
“Fuck, why didn’t ya say so, moron.” This from Crow in the other room. I push through the other two and see Kami clutching the towel tightly to her still damp skin, looking stricken like a deer caught in the headlights.
“Go fucking put some clothes on, Kami. Now.” I growl the words, hoping like hell she heard me explain her presence.
She disappears down the hall and I turn back to see Bear’s eyes narrowed on me. “Sister, huh? Yeah, I don’t see the resemblance.”
Fuck. He’s not buying it. But really, what’s he gonna do? He can’t prove otherwise.
I lift my brows. “You touch her, I’ll kill you.” I glance around the room. “That goes for all of you sons-of-bitches.” I’ve got balls saying those words to a club Nomad, but this is my fucking house, and over my dead body is one of these assholes touching Kami, club be damned.
“What’s she doing here?” Crow asks.
“Ma wanted her out of her hair for the summer. What’s it to ya, Mr. Nosey?” I snap.
“Relax, kid. No one’s touching her. Sister’s are off limits, unless you don’t give a shit, which you obviously do.” Bear moves to the couch and plops down. “So tell us what happened with the Evil Dead last night.
I sit down and tell them, thankful that Kami stays in the bedroom.