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Rider jerks his head to the left and I follow behind him as he pulls into a quiet street in Roxburgh. It’s in a slightly shitty part of town and we’re hoping the Computas’ and Moss’ intel is right.
I slow to a stop behind Rider, my gaze following his finger. “Well, shit.”
“Shit is right.”
We stare at the old Death Riders compound. After Sniper and Dex patched over to us the old Death Riders members struggled to keep a dying club alive. Most of the old timers wanted out of the game anyway. Last we heard they’d up and retired to greener pastures. Looks like what they left behind the Quarter Mile MC claimed.
I lean back on my girl, a gloss black Road King Special. She’s been with me through good times and bad. Always had my back.
“I count five sleds. They’re either a tiny MC or they got members offsite.” Rider moves around a little, squinting at the building. “So, how’s your love life?”
I fold my arms over my chest, closing my eyes to the sun that warms my skin. “Whats it to you?”
“I do believe, as the Love Chaplain, I have access to information regarding your love life until such a time that you are in a meaningful relationship with a person of your choosing.”
I slowly turn to stare at him. “Since when do you use fancy sentences?”
“Since I been seein’ - ah, yeah, just from daytime TV.” He plasters a smile on top of his smug face and I narrow my gaze.
He’s been sneaking around for a while now, acting all cagey. I’m sure it’s a woman, but that makes no sense seeing as he’s sneaking into a retirement home.
“Incoming,” Rider murmurs.
Two more bikers ride past escorting in a moving truck, jaws set, probably giving us the death stare behind their sunglasses. I give them a friendly smile and wave. We’re not scared of those pissants. They’re just another bunch of assholes trying to take turf and peddle their shit to innocent people.
My gaze follows the two riders through the gates, watching as another two men push the gates closed behind them before chaining them shut.
“Not even automatic gates?” Rider scoffs.
Either this MC ain't flush with cash, or they’re using it for other things. “What do you think they got in that warehouse back there?” I lift my chin in the direction of the one building that doesn’t look like a piece of shit. There are security cameras and a biometric locking system.
“If I was a betting man, I’d say that looks like the place they’d keep all their goodies.”
I file that little bit of information away for later and message Marx about calling Church. If anyone is gonna know that compound, it’s former Death Rider Savage.
“So, you wanna talk about it?”
I side eye Rider, who is still giving the Quarter Mile MC the stink eye. “Not really much to talk about. Willa and I had a good time, and now we’re friends.” I settle back in my seat, the worn leather creaking under my weight.
Rider huffs, “Friend-zoned, huh? Hell of a place to be.”
I turn to look at him properly. He’s not been himself for a while now. We’ve all suspected a woman, now I know it is. “Friend-zone isn’t a waiting room where you hang out waiting to get into some woman’s panties, son.” He glances at me. “If you really like this woman,” I raise my hand to stop him mouthing off, “then you’ll respect that maybe she just don’t feel that way about ya, and that’s OK.”
“That where you’re at?”
“Yeah. I wasn't just attracted to Willa because she’s hot as hell. I like her sass. Her courage. Her loyalty to Joy. I can still enjoy all those things about her without wanting to sleep with her.” I roll my shoulders. “In fact, I kinda like getting to know her more now. And if this thing doesn’t go any further with her? Then I have one hell of a friend in my corner.”
“Is that why you were wringing the shit outta ya handlebars and growling like a bear with a sore foot?”
“Rider?”
“Yeah?”
“Shut up.”
The big bastard snorts and I’m about to lay into him when there’s action at the gates in front of us. They roll open and a giant with a face like a screwed up fist comes stomping our way.
“Well, better go see what Goliath wants,” Rider murmurs, shit-eating grin already plastered on his face as he throws his leg over his bike, standing to his full height.
