“One percenters.They make their own laws that have nothing to do with the glorious land of the USA.They do what they want to do.Where they want to go, they go, and whoever they want to kill, they kill.”
“Kill.”I shudder.I’d seen the steeliness of his blue eyes, and experienced the unblinking, unwavering way he’d looked into my soul.This was a man who wasn’t afraid of death and murder, likely he invited it in.My curiosity was dangerous, I knew that, but even so more questions formed in my mind.“Todd, what do they–?”
“Can we get some help in here?”Lynette’s shrill voice rang around the department and Todd and I raced from bay one.
A child was collapsed in his mother’s arms, floppy and pale and unnervingly quiet, never a good sign.
Thoughts of nameless bikers, one-percenters, and steely blue eyes left my mind as I set to work.My job was to preserve life.My vow had been to do no harm and I intended to stick to that promise.
Chapter Two
Denver Chapter Clubhouse
Reaper
“Hey, Reaper, you’re still breathing, bro.”Tank, our roadman, slaps me on the shoulder then sits at my side.“Good job.”
“For my sins,” I say and knock back a mouthful of beer.
“Lives to fight another day.”Jock taps the President patch on his cut.“And I for one am sure glad to have my VP in one piece.”
The clubhouse used to be an auto repair shop back in the day, now it resembles a fortress—high metal walls, corrugated iron roofs, and stacks of motorcycle parts.The paying customers are long gone and we use it as a secure base for meeting, and for some of us, sleeping.
The day is hot, again, and my right side hurts like a bitch.But at least I’m not gushing blood anymore, thanks to that pretty doctor with the haunted eyes, and I’m here in the only home I’ve ever really known.
“So, what cunt did this to you?”Tank asks and studies me.“You’re my brother, man, I want to see him take his last breath.”
I see my reflection in his sunglasses.I’m a shade paler than usual and have three instead of two frown lines scoring over my brow.I grimace and recall the moment the asshole surprised me then took a shot.
“We all do,” Jock says and looks at the group sitting nearby.“Ain’t that right?”
There is a round of cursing and fists slapping into palms.I can see in their eyes that murder is coming for the son of a bitch who got away once but won’t get away twice.For a moment their unwavering loyalty to me, the club, and to Jock catches my throat.I swallow and grit my teeth.No damn time for emotion.We have work to do.
“I don’t know if we’ll find him,” I say and clench my fists.“Little shit was a wannabe, he’s probably skipped town and changed his name by now.If he knows what’s good for him, that is.”
Tank frowns.“What you on about?”
