The door opened and we all turned to see who it was. Tex came striding in, his face like thunder. Shit. I hoped that nothing bad had happened with his kid.
“You okay, brother?” Rigs asked. He was still sitting with Evan who looked like he had a bit more color in his face now.
Tex nodded. “My boy’s out of surgery. He’s gonna be okay. Visitin’ ain’t until tomorrow, so I’m here to kick some ass.”
He wasn’t the only one. But right now we had nothing to go on. So I went back to pacing the floor of the clubhouse wishing I could get my hands around Viper’s fucking throat.
Storm’s phone rang and he answered immediately. We looked up expectantly, wondering if it was Viper, but Storm shook his head and listened to whatever his caller was saying. It was apparently good news because his expression turned excited.
“Say that again, baby,” he said. “How many riders did you see?” Then, “You’re sure it was her? Which direction did they take?” Turning his back on the rest of us, he assured his old lady, “Yeah, we’re gonna get her back. I promise.”
He ended the call and whirled around. “That was my old lady. She and Grace stopped for gas on Route 9 just now. A formation of Stolen Oath bikes came through the intersection heading northwest.” He paused. “Winter was on the back of the lead bike. He tied her fuckin’ hands around his waist. They saw her plainly under the gas station lights.”
Suddenly, my mind and body came alive with excitement. Winter was seen alive by Storm’s and Celt’s old ladies. And they were heading northwest. I didn’t know what those two were doing out in the middle of the night, but I was grateful for it.
Celt pulled up directions on his phone. “Northwest out of Griffinsford on Route 9, there’s only one highway connection that makes sense if he’s heading for their new Stolen Oath territory. He has to pass through the Route 9 and the County 14 intersection. There’s no other way through.”
Storm was already looking at the same map on his own phone. “Is it possible to get there ahead of him?”
“Yes, but only if we move right now, ride like a bat outta hell and we don’t stop for anything,” Celt said. “We might be able to beat the fecker there by about five minutes.”
Storm looked up and announced, “Mount the fuck up. We can still catch them.”
***
As we rode off into the night, the thought of my old lady on the back of Viper’s bike, literally tied to him, provoked my rage in the worst way. All I could think of was prying her away from his nasty ass and beating the shit outta him for taking her again.
My mind kept thinking of how scared she must be. Of her worst nightmare coming true again and me helpless to stop it because we were off chasing shadows.
All three clubs slid into place with minutes to spare. We killed our engines and Storm spoke. “Nobody fires until I say. We can’t take a chance on hitting Fuse’s old lady. Spread out.”
No sooner than we were all in place than they came riding down the road, all smiles and confidence. They slowed as they realized what was lining both sides of the road and blocking the path in the shadows ahead.
Storm sat on his bike in the middle of the road with me and Celt staring them down. Our club brothers blocked the road on either side of us. Siege’s group held formation on the left and the Sons of Rage were strung along the road to the right for as faras the eye could see. We were an army. Viper’s crew was a small group by comparison.
The lead bike’s engine revved once and then Viper pulled forward alone, separating from his formation by about thirty yards, and stopped. He sat there for a moment reading the roadblock the way a man reads a hand of cards he didn’t expect to be dealt, turning it over, looking for the play.
Then he stood up off the seat and I saw her.
Winter was on the back of the bike. She was alive and she was whole and that was just enough to calm my rising panic. My eyes dropped to the bandana tying her around his waist. My rage simmered, waiting its turn to be released.
Viper looked around at the eighty bikes, three club presidents and me. He understood immediately that this wasn’t a routine patrol or some kind of unlucky coincidence. It was us tracking his ass down. When the Sons of Rage brothers scattered around to block his escape route, the reality was clear that he’d miscalculated in a serious way. It was the first time since the PATCH rally that I saw Viper’s face lose that self-satisfied smirk. For once, he looked downright grim.
He reached down and lifted her bound arms over his head, squirming free. Then he shoved Winter in front of him and out came his gun. When he shoved Winter forward, I stepped out to meet him.
When he got close enough to converse with us, Storm’s voice rang out, “Hold. Stay where you are.”
Viper walked Winter forward a few steps just to prove he wouldn’t be told what to do by Storm. He yanked her arm, still holding the gun at his side.
“I want a road,” he called out. “Give me a road and Fuse’s old lady gets to live. Nobody has to get hurt tonight.”
Tex pointed his gun straight at Viper. “Too fuckin’ late for that. You riddled my boy with holes tonight and y’all are gonna pay.”
“No, I’m not. That was your club’s fault for double-crossing me. I told you what it was gonna take to end this. That’s the only offer I’m making.”
Viper’s grip on Winter tightened, and he lifted his gun a few inches. “Clock’s running,” Viper said. “What’s it gonna be?”
My eyes weren’t on Viper. They were on my old lady. I watched her fingers move. That’s when I realized that she’d been working the bandana knot the entire time.
