“You can ride bitch with Phoenix for a while,” Kitty told him. It wasn’t that big of a deal; Kitty rode bitch behind Poison all the time. “Do what I do and play with her tits while she’s driving. It’ll make the time go by a lot faster, and then she’ll jump your bones the second the bike stops.”
Benjamin shook his head, blinking like he was trying to make sense of what they were talking about. “Kitty, you’re not making any sense. Just come back inside and talk with Poison?—”
Kitty rounded on him, and for the first time, he allowed himself to feel the pain that he was keeping bottled up inside him. Guilt ate away at his soul. “We’re bikers. Poison is still mine just as much as I am hers. There is no divorce, no break ups. I am her Knightmare, whether she likes it or not, and Iwillprotect her. With,” he glared at Ghost, “or without your help.”
That said, he pushed between the two of them, making sure to bump into Ghost’s shoulder harder than Benjamin’s. Then he headed towards where Benjamin and Waya’s camper van and the club’s bikes were parked. They had chosen the edge of the parking lot that wasn’t surrounded by marsh.
Without hesitation, he straddled Ghost’s bike.
“Hey!” Ghost shouted, and from their distance, Kitty saw him frantically patting all his pockets. But his keys were clearly not there as Kitty started up the motorcycle. Lifting his fingers in a Peace Out gesture, he rode out of the parking lot with Ghost chasing after him on foot.
* * *
The bellover the ice cream shoppe jingled as the club entered. They were all fucking exhausted, and a new tension had risen up in the club that had little to do with lack of sleep. They were divided, out of sync. Physically, mentally, and emotionally.
After Kitty stole Ghost’s bike, they packed up, but they needed to travel light and fast. Things were thrown in Benjamin and Waya’s camper van that were unnecessary on the bikes—including all Kitty’s belongings. The women’s Knightmares were also left behind. None of them, biker or Knightmare, were happy about it, but the club needed to ride hard and fast. They went straight for over a day before Viper overrode Poison as road captain and declared it was too dangerous for them to continue. She found a pay-by-the-hour room, where the women slept for about four hours, and then got back on the road. Waya, Benjamin, Ghost, and Sissy were riding in the camper van at a much slower pace.
The moment the seven women of theNon CrasMotorcycle Club crossed into Beaverton, Oregon, they aimed straight for the coordinates of the IP address where Rose’s dead man’s message was sent, which turned out to be an old fashioned ice cream shoppe.
Poison had barely spoken a word since Kitty had walked out of the motel room. The occasional question was asked over their helmets’ Bluetooth since the earpieces Rose had given them for constant communication were not working. At times, hourspassed without a single one of them speaking. Jack from the Mountain Mutineers was feeding them intel, sparse though it was.
The news from Mount Grove was grave. Someone had planted a bomb in the club’s bar, and when it exploded, it brought the building down on everyone who had been inside. While there were many survivors, there were also casualties. The last body count was four: Frankie, the club’s nanny who had been there on her night off; Monica, one of the waitresses at the bar; Dru Dendinger, a local physical therapist who had been in the bar on a date night with her husband; and Scott Pan, a deputy with the Mount Grove Police Department. Among the injured were the six local bankers who had been in the back of the bar; Danny, another deputy; Dru’s husband Jett; Gracie, another waitress; Specs, a VDMC prospect; Ghost, the VDMC’s president and the bar’s co-owner; and Grumpy, a VDMC member. Grumpy was still in critical condition, having lost an eye and sustained numerous burns, but the doctors were optimistic about his survival.
Additionally, Becks, Ghost’s ol’ lady and wife, and Ranger, the VDMC’s enforcer, Becks’ older brother, and Ghost’s best friend, were also missing. They had not been in the bar at the time of the explosion, and were both last seen with Ranger’s girlfriend, all three of them leaving her apartment.
Beyond knowing that Rose was in WITSEC, there wasn’t much that Jack could tell them. Finding her status as a protected individual as well as her handler was his current task, but he couldn’t promise speed. There was a reason no one has been able to hack or break into the program. The U.S. Marshals were very good at making people disappear.
But, from what theNon Crascould presume, Rose couldn’t be a typical case. For one, she was clearly in contact with people from her old life.
From the few questions she’d answered about Rose, Poisonadmitted that she had not known Rose was a hacker, even as a teenager, and that the sisters were not close growing up. With a decade between their ages, Poison had felt more like a parent than a sister to Rose. When Rose started smoking and drinking in her early teens, eventually graduating to the more hardcore crimes, her parents sent her off to boarding school in the hopes of her straightening her life out. Instead, she got caught stealing, sent to juvie, and eventually overdosed on heroin.
Or so everyone thought.
That was six years ago. Rose had been barely eighteen when she OD’d, making it legal for her to cut her own deal, and leaving Poison alone in the world.
Until a year and a half ago.
No one dared to mention Kitty. It was like he’d never existed in the club, let alone been their president’s Knightmare. If Jack knew about Kitty’s—or Rurik’s—absence in the club, he was smart enough to also keep his mouth shut.
Walking into the ice cream shoppe was like stepping back in time. There was a milkshake counter directly in front of the main entrance with what looked to be barrels of whiskey on the far wall. Instead of labels like Bourbon, Rye, and Single Malt, though, they had Vanilla, Chocolate, Strawberry, Almond, Black Cherry, Blueberry, Butter Pecan, Salted Caramel, White Chocolate Cheesecake, and Crème de Menthe.
Families with kids, teens and adults on dates, and some single customers filled the dining booths and the round stools at the bar, despite the northern cool still plaguing the afternoon.
Other than one customer in the corner on his laptop, there was not a computer in sight. Just people on their phones, texting or sharing pictures on social media.
No Rose.
She would be twenty-four now, and perhaps it was foolish to have any expectation that Rose would just be sitting at thecounter eating a sundae while waiting patiently for the club to arrive.
Kitty had been right. The entire, nail-biting trip to get there had been a huge waste of time. As Jack had warned, Rose must have faked the IP information, and the club just drove across the country in two days to provenothing.
No Rose, no enemy, no fight.
There was nothing.
* * *
Poison feltas though she couldn’t breathe. Like she’d been holding her breath for days, and this was the one place she held out hope she’d finally be able to get some air. But instead, she found herself sinking further and further down to the bottom of the sea.
