Page 51 of Amy's Santa

“I’m not in a fuckin’ mood,” he snaps back. “And as if it’s any of your business, she always does. Likes to see my engine revving.”

Hmm. TMI. I know he has a V-twin tattooed on his chest, but I really don’t want to think of how that might move when he’s getting down to business.

“Right, gather around.” When Drummer uses that serious tone, we fall silent, and stand in a group around him, why we’re here taking precedence over any joking. “Mouse has confirmed Flint’s got the day off work, so we’ll assume he’s at home. We all know what we’re doing?”

We take a few moments going over the plan again. When Drummer’s satisfied we’re as prepared as we can be, he signals we should go to our bikes. My mood changes, and I’m focused on just one thing. I’m going to find the man who hurt my baby girl and get my revenge on him. By tonight, there’ll be one less bastard breathing.

“Mornin’,” a loud voice shouts out.

We all swing around. Fuck, if it wasn’t so serious I’d laugh at the look Drummer’s sporting. For the first time ever that I can remember, he’s gone a bright shade of red, and his eyes are shifting to the side. Embarrassment and guilt written all over his face.

Prez is wheeling his bike down the track. Hawk, his VP, is alongside him, behind is his sergeant-at-arms, Hound, and finally Throttle, his enforcer.

“Mornin’.” Drummer recovers fast. He leans back against his bike and folds his arms. “You going for a ride out as well?” he asks deceptively casually.

“Thought we’d tag along, it’s such a nice day.”

Nice day?I glance up at the sky where dark clouds are forming, glad I’ve got my wet weather gear in my saddlebags. I realise our problem and wonder how the fuck Drummer’s going to get out of it.

“Nah,” he tells Wizard with a shake of his head. “Us old-timers are going to take it slow and steady. You’ll just get bored.”

Prez looks around at his companions. “We don’t mind a gentle ride. Be good for us to lay off the throttle for once.”

Fuck.

Even Drummer seems stumped about how he’s going to handle this. What can we do? Go for a short ride, say we’re turning back and hope they go off on their own? I really don’t want to cancel. I raise my chin toward Drum, directing a pleading look at him. But he responds with a shrug and a shake of his head.

Wizard kicks down the stand of his bike to support it, then walks the few steps to join us. Hawk, Throttle, and Hound also leave their rides and gather behind him. A show of support for the prez.

“I know what you’re doing.” Wizard addresses Drummer first, then his eyes fall on us one by one.

Fuck.

“You can’t stop us, Wiz.” Drum lays those steel eyes on him.

“Can’t I?” he says, deceptively lazily. “What if yourprez,” he emphasises the word, “forbids it?”

Fuck me. I raise my eyebrows in horror. If he did that, there’s no way we can go through with it.Amy,I vow,I’ll get rid of Flint on my own if I have to.But that would mean going against my prez which could lose me my patch and get me thrown out of the club. Fuck. I’ve given thirty years of my life to this MC, could I really walk away from it? What would I do without the Satan’s Devils behind me?

Wizard’s allowing us a moment to think. Suddenly he barks a laugh and claps his hand down on Drummer’s shoulder.

“Fuckin’ old men,” he says without malice, then turns his head to address his companions. “Thinking they can get away with shit without needing babysitters.” His face hardens and his voice becomes deep as he looks toward me, then addresses Drummer, “This concerns the woman who’s going to be my old lady. You’re going after the fucker whorapedher, for fuck’s sake. You think for one fuckin’ second we’re staying behind?”He knows.Amy must have told him. I suppose it’s a plus they’ve a relationship where she’s able to confide.

Wizard waits a moment for that to sink in, while I let out the breath I hadn’t realised I’d been holding. Finally he finishes with, “So,” he grins evilly at Drummer, “what’s the plan?”

We discuss what we’d decided for a few minutes, and Wizard makes some adjustments as is his right.

When we all know what we’re doing, Peg asks, frown lines on his face, “How the hell did you know what we were doing? What gave us away?”

Wizard glances at Mouse. “I checked what you’d been searching. Flint’s address, his work schedule…”

“Fuck, Wiz.” Mouse is shaking his head.

Two hours later, we’re riding around the back of an abandoned office building in Phoenix, stopping at the rear parking lot which is hidden from the road. Mouse had somehow managed to find a suitable place to use at short notice. As we get off our bikes, I notice Peg’s hands massaging the middle of his back and he’s rolling his head to get the kinks out of his neck. Drummer’s shaking out his hands. Blade, having driven the plain white crash truck, grins as he steps down.

A light drizzle is falling, not enough to make us stop and suit up in our wet gear, so while my leather jacket kept my body dry, my jeans are damp which is playing hell with the leg I’d shattered twice in the past. I flex it, rubbing my thigh and calf when I bend down.

To give him his due, Wizard and the officers with him give us a moment making no witty comments about old men.

---