“Mexico! What the hell do we have goin’ on? I didn’t think we had anyone down that way.”
“We’re making a quick exchange and getting the fuck outta there. Take extra ammo. You’ll probably need it. I have to get the others.” He finishes and walks toward Spider’s room, cutting off any other possible questions I may have.
Fuck. Extra ammo? But yet it’s a simple pick and drop? Doubtful. What the fuck am I gonna say to Princess, ‘cause shit’s about to get real.
Either Scot is getting serious about the bartender and wanting to settle in with the Chapter here, or this run is a shit storm, and Exterminator doesn’t want us thinking about it with the ride ahead. Either way, I can’t help but think that I should have fucked my girl again before she left, ‘cause you never know in this type of life if today will be your last. We don’t have time to waste when you deal with scummy fucks on the regular; that’s one reason why we’re quick to claim a bitch and hope like fuck she’s the one.
Is Cinderella the one for me? Just the fact that I’m even thinking about this shit and asking questions should be enough of a clue to let me know that she’s got my dick on lockdown. She better get real comfy being my Ol’ Lady, ‘cause that bitch won’t be getting another man until I’m rotting six feet under.
She handled the claiming, but can she handle the lifestyle that comes with it? I’m a fucking Nomad; she needs to come to terms that we work off my schedule, not one that some pussy-ass manager sets for her. One thing’s for certain, when I return we’re having a serious come to fuckin’ Jesus moment when I lay it all out and clue her in. I’ll set up roots and tie her ass up in a basement if I have to. I’m just fucking warped enough to do it too.
Digging my cell out, I pull up the finder app I have for Princess. Her mini crown blinks at her home address, showing me she hasn’t gone anywhere else since she left here.Good. I like when she stays home; then I know no assholes are hitting on her.Closing it out, I bring up her number in the text.
ME: Hey, Cinderella, shit came up. I’ll be with my brothers for a few days, maybe the whole week idk.
Closing the message out after I hit send, Sinner pulls up beside me. A large Taco Shop bag strapped under the convenient elastic net thing he made for his bike. Pretty fucking genius actually and the first time I’d ever seen it before. He took a car-sized trunk net you find that holds groceries and what not, customized it down to fit his bike and replaced the clasps with softer plastic hooks so it wouldn’t damage the paint.
His engine quiets and he begins to climb off.
“You got any extra food in that bag?” I nod, as the delicious, spicy smell floats over, causing my stomach to growl.
“Yep. Exterminator hit me up a little while ago about the run. Made me crave tacos and figured half of you assholes would be hungry.”
“That’s what’s up. Thanks, brother.”
“No worries, I got you.” He reaches in the bag, coming back with five wrapped tacos for me.
“Fuck, I’m starving,” I mumble as he hands them over and I immediately unwrap a hard-shelled taco, shoving half of it in my mouth in one bite.
Sinner chuckles and shakes his head at me throwing a munch then strides over to Ruger’s room. He beats on the door for a second, and when it finally opens, he’s greeted with, “Hell yeah.”
Guess I’m not the only one who was busy eating pussy for breakfast.
Later that day…
What should be a simple run down south, has morphed into a miserably long ride. The closer we get to the Texas/New Mexico border, the dryer the hot air becomes and even on a bike with the wind hitting full force, it does little to cool you down. I’m used to the humidity and have a rough enough time in central Texas with its smaller amounts of moisture. Down here the air is stale, making my skin feel dried out and filthy.
The sun’s burned down on us the entire trip, thanks to Ex wanting to take off at a fucked up time.Bastard.This shit better be worth it. I don’t bitch on runs. I love the road, but I would go fucking nuts it if I had to ride in this shit all year long.
Slowing, Exterminator signals and takes the off-ramp, leaving the highway that runs through El Paso. Right off the ramp, we’re met with the entrance to the Mexican border. All theYou’re now leaving the United Statessigns they have posted does absolutely nothing to make me feel better. If anything, they make me want to tell Ex to fuck off about this run, but that’s not how MC life works.
He picks a certain lane to go through, and we all follow suit, getting in line as a group. This could go down real fuckin’ bad if they decide to search us. I’m packing like a motherfucker, and I’d put money on it that my brothers are loaded up to their ears with weapons and ammo as well. Princess will end up with a dose of reality if I have to call her ass from jail to bail me out or find me a decent lawyer.
The bikes rumble as we scoot forward slowly; it feels like it takes them forever to check through vehicles. The road and exhaust are making me stinky and sweaty. Nothing like being around a group of hot, tired, pissed off bikers. I’m thinking if we get flagged shit’ll go down, border patrol agents or some ass-clown will get popped, and we’ll all be shuffled to the pen on murder, accessory, and weapons charges.
Motherfucker.
Spider glances back at me, looking like he’s going to upchuck.Easy, Spidey, just stay cool and calm; hopefully, they’ll let us pass.
We can drop the majority of our ammo before heading back, so that’s not the issue unless we’re hauling something with us. Regardless, I’m not about to enter Mexico without packing some serious heat. I know a few brothers who’ve come to do a pickup and have wound up in a ditch, never seeing their home soil.
The cartel doesn’t appreciate bikers on their turf who don’t belong in their pockets. I’ve struggled too long to finally break away from pieces of shits like them, to be forced back under someone’s thumb. Any of their minions or twisted pigs come at me, I’m shooting or scalping their asses, fuck the dumb shit.
Bethany plops down onthe couch, pulling my phone out from the cushion beside her.
“Oh, my Gawd! I’ve been looking for that all freaking day.” Hurrying toward her she hands it over, and I plug it in right away.
“I was beginning to think you were tied up and duct taped somewhere. Who goes three days without charging their phone?”