The blow back from the explosion scorches our flesh as the fiery blaze consumes the burning building and the roof completely caves. Letting out a whistle, I signal my brothers. Our time here is done. I hope those scum suckers, Vipers, choke on the black smoke.
Fuck those Vipers.
This masterpiece will be a warning to all who try to cross me again. To those who think they can come to my town to push drugs or guns. This is a small piece of what will happen to anyone who crosses Dead Road MC territory.
“ALL GAS, NO GRAVE,” I yell out as we mount our Harleys and tear out onto the black pavement and away from the mayhem our club just created. I know that I shouldn't have done that but damn, it felt awesome. Those bastards will think again before stealing our shipment. Some find solace in a therapist, me, I find it in exacting revenge.
“We good, Prez?” my VP, Havoc, asks as we sit at a light after turning off the main highway.
I lift my chin then rev up my bike, “Right as rain, brother,” I say as the light changes to green and we cross over our city limits.
We live in a small town with a population of maybe around 10,000 people called Sweetwater, Texas. We live away from the big cities and a little off from the main highway. It isn't much but it's home to us.
As we drive down the main drag, I see how much of the town has grown over the last five years. Even in the middle of the night with the street lamps on, I can see the growth. I'm just now truly appreciating what this tiny blip on the map has to offer.
We hook a left at the end of town and pull up to our gated compound. Two prospects open the gates and we roar in, lining up our rides at the back of the lot. One by one we dismount our bikes and follow into the clubhouse.
The silence is such a contradictory to the usual booming noise here with music and club girls, but tonight we need to concentrate and not have any distractions. Tonight, we started something that should have been done years ago when I became the president of Dead Road MC.
Tonight, we started war.
Everyone stops by the bar where a prospect is placing bottles of beer on the counter before heading off to their own personal rooms to wash off the evidence of our crime. It’s the middle of the night so there’s not much we can do. Long days and nights are coming after what we started, and everyone will need some rest.
I bypass the bar and walk down the long hallway making a right at the end where my door is. Opening the door with my key, I see it’s exactly how I left it a few hours ago—bed unmade, clothes strung out on the floor and the smell of sex in the air. Walking towards the closed door, I strip off my clothes before turning on the shower in my bathroom. Gathering up the offending clothing, I stuff them into the hamper to be cleaned in the morning by Brenna, our house mouse. Brenna, or whoever is in that role, cleans and does all the chores a maid would usually do. They are usually on the run for something, and we house them in exchange for chores. They are off limits unless she initiates it. Brenna was brought here from our other chapter in Tucson, Arizona six months ago. She’s no Sweetbutt or club whore even though many of the brothers have tried to persuade her.
I step under the scalding hot water and let the burn settle on my skin. This beef with the Vipers is going to be bloody and hostile until we exterminate every last one of them. It’s rumored that they have connections with a drug cartel in Mexico so we might need to call in the other chapters in the surrounding states for backup. Going to war means that we could lose some good men, which was the reason I held back from going after them these past few years.
I shake my head, ridding my gloomy thoughts and turn off the water. After I towel off, I rummage in my dresser drawer for a fresh pair of boxer briefs. Exhaustion of the day settles in and I land in the middle of my bed, pulling up my comforter, hoping my brain shuts off long enough for me to get a few hours of sleep. After tossing and turning for what seems like hours, I finally peer over at my alarm clock and see that it is almost six. The sun should be up soon. Then we will need to come up with a plan to keep the Viper MC at bay until we can make them go away, permanently.
Realizing I’m not going to be going back to sleep, I throw the covers off. Going for a peaceful ride will clear my head. There is nothing more freeing than the open road and the rumble of my bike to make everything disappear, if only for a short while.
I toss on a fresh pair of jeans, black T-shirt, my cut, ballcap, and riding boots before exiting my room. My key locks the door and behind me I hear the sounds of my men sleeping behind their doors. We’ve had a busy month with several new shipments coming in and long runs that were filled. The guys deserve a small break before shit hits the fan.
As I stroll into the main area of the clubhouse, I see two prospects behind the counter stocking the bar. They see me approach and stand at attention.
“Can we get you a beer, sir?” one of them implores.
“Coffee. Black,” I grunt.
“Yes, sir.”
He makes quick work of my cup then continues to stock the bar for later in the day. It doesn’t take me long before I finish and head out to my bike.
We sit on twenty acres, completely fenced in with an automotive shop that occupies one section of the property. The other side is the clubhouse with the living quarters for members. Throughout the lot we have various buildings where we store things, but there are several acres designated for future houses for members to build if they want to live here with their families.
Family. A word that at one time I thought I’d have. Thought I’d found my person to spend the rest of my life with, but when the going got tough, she bailed, not being able to handle the lifestyle or me doing time. I quickly learned that it’s better to not have attachments. Now I’d rather have a warm body for about half an hour then send her on her way.
Reving up my beauty, I let the vibrations wake my soul as I leave the compound and set course on the road, enjoying the cool weather in the early morning. The roads are pretty much empty as I coast through the town, feeling my body come alive and my mind clear if only for a little while. After a while, I circle back and head down the main drag to the clubhouse to start my day and catch up on some paperwork for the legit businesses the club has. As my bike comes to a stop at the red light, a reflection of light comes across my face. I turn my head seeing a woman running down the opposite side of the road. She’s wearing a pair of tiny, tight black running shorts and white sports bra. She has on a ballcap with her brown hair up in a ponytail with earbuds in as she jogs. Her body is tight, you can tell she takes care of herself. She must be lost in whatever she’s listening to because she doesn’t even spare me a glance as she passes by on the opposite side of the road. I’m half tempted to bust a U-turn and ride alongside her until she notices me. I’m not someone who chases after pussy, but make an exception for this one since she reminds me of the chick I’d hooked up with at one of our big rallies two months ago up north.
We were doing our annual rally with other clubs, meeting and delivering a huge shipment with our friends south of the border. I played poker and drank with some of the other presidents. As I was leaving I ran into the sexiest woman taking a shot at the hotel bar. I was beyond drunk, but I remember bits of that night. She was the best fuck I’d had in years, if not ever. After she fucked my brains out, I went into the bathroom to toss the condom. In my head I was trying to rationalize convincing her to ride back home with me to Texas so that we could spend some more time together, but when I came out she’d ghosted me. Hours later when I woke up, I thought it had all been a dream, but the used condom in the trash and a weird looking coin that must’ve fell out of her pocket when we got naked told me it was real.
My head follows her all the way down the street until she turns right and is out of sight. Damn, that was a fine ass on her. I bet she?—
My phone startles me from my dirty thoughts, and I don’t even bother peeking to see who’s calling me.
“Yeah,” I say into the phone, grouchy that my thoughts were interrupted from ogling the brunette.
“Prez, Gunner called and said that their shipment was hijacked last night and wanted to know if we could send some help up to Fallon,” Havoc, my VP grits out, sounding pissed.
