The car was quiet after that, the radio playing softly in the background as Romeo eased in and out of traffic with practiced ease, the three-lane highway that ran through the city making it almost too easy to escape. Phee was dosing in and out in the back, and I was beginning to think maybe this would be a good time to catch some sleep before Romeo would need to pull over and stop.
And then I heard the motorcycles.
At first, it didn’t register that it could be anyone other than my brothers, with my first thought being,oh crap, something’s changed.
“Fuck,” Romeo cursed under his breath as two bikes flew up either side of us at high speed. Their colors flashed by my eyes, and I instantly knew they weren’t ours.
I turned to Romeo whose lips were pressed into a hard line. “What does that mean?”
The two club members pulled in front of us and began to slow down, forcing Romeo to either run into them or brake.
He chose the latter.
“These the guys you’ve been running from?” I asked seriously, needing to prepare myself for anything which was about to happen.
One by one, bikes moved around us with one of the riders in front putting out his arm and pointing to the off ramp.
I took note of the patch on the back—The Exiled Eight MC, Las Vegas.
The name rang a bell, but not a strong one.
Romeo shook his head. “These are just guys I’ve done regular business with. I know their president quite well. It shouldn’t be a problem.”
“Shouldn’t be is right up there with pretty sure.”
My heart was racing hard, and I reached for my gun which was tucked in under my jacket as Romeo took the off-ramp. One that just so happened to lead to a large train yard, part of which was under construction—the construction part completely empty.
We followed them in, the car bouncing through the potholes until we came to a stop outside a large warehouse that stored the construction equipment and building materials. Plenty of pieces of machinery which could come in handy if someone was pissed off at us coming into their territory without as much as a, ‘Hey, how’s it goin’.’
“What’s going on?” Phee asked nervously looking around at the strange men surrounding her.
“It’s okay,” Romeo answered straight away. Strangely calm. “I’ll handle it. But whatever I say, just fucking follow along, will you?” He reached for the door handle before I could even agree, throwing it open and climbing out with his hands slightly raised in surrender.
Was he stupid?
Did he not know what these kind of guys were capable of?
What they might fucking do to me if they figure out that I’m flying the wrong colors?
Even though I wasn’t wearing them right now, I still had my back completely covered.
“Jesus Christ,” I cursed. “Stay here, Phee. Don’t get out.”
I tucked my gun back under my jacket and climbed out of the car. Eyes observed me as I made my way to the back where Romeo was standing like he was waiting for someone. No one spoke. No one even moved to hold a weapon to us. Then I heard the roar of a couple of more motorcycles coming down the street and slowing to pull into the same road we’d just entered.
They maneuvered around the deep holes like they knew where every single one was located and had done this a million times before. The two of them pulled up at the back of the group and climbed off removing their helmets and placing them on their handlebars before walking toward us.
They stepped through the circle of men and machines that surrounded us in the small yard, their eyes taking me in first before moving to Romeo. I spotted the president’s patch almost immediately. The kid who’d pulled up with him wearing the V.P.
“Romeo,” the older man addressed. His beard was gray and cut close to his face. It wasn’t full but more like a goatee framing his mouth. It matched his salt and pepper hair which was shaved on the sides, but the long hair on top pulled back into a ponytail which was braided and hung down over his shoulder. “When did you break out?”
The casual tone didn’t get past me, and I looked over to my brother who had a smirk on his face. “I’m a free man as of about an hour and a half ago,” he announced, holding his arms out wide. “You pull us over just to congratulate me, old man?”
The president smirked. “I’m pretty sure I do owe you a beer,” he answered, scratching his beard. “Clubhouse ain’t far. You’re welcome to bring your visitors to drop in.” The sharp tone and the way his eyes moved to me instantly had me standing a little taller.
Romeo stepped closer to me inching himself forward, so he was slightly in front. “Now Huntsman, you know any other day I would, but I haven’t seen my brother or my little sister…” he pointed to me and then back to the car where Phee’s face was peeking over the seats, “… for six damn years, man. We’re leaving the city, heading to Alabama. No harm. No foul.”
Huntsman nodded but still didn’t take his eyes off me. “That where your club is from?”