Page 31 of Avenging Devil: Part 2

Chapter Eleven

Grumbler

By the time we arrive in Vegas, my previously injured leg is protesting, and so’s my ass. In my youth, I could ride for hours, but now over four hours of being on the road has taken its toll. Pulling up in the already crowded parking lot outside Red’s clubhouse, I cross my fingers that when I put down the kickstand, my busted leg doesn’t give way.

Luckily managing to stand on two feet, I arch my back, putting my hands to the small of it and stretching.

Lost catches my eye and grimaces himself, rolling his neck to get the kinks out of it.

“Long ride, Brother,” he commiserates as he comes across.

“It’s nothing, Prez. Just we’re getting older.”

“Welcome, San Diego!” Red bellows to no one in particular, then, catching sight of the prez and myself, comes across. He takes Lost’s hand, locks thumbs, then pulls him in so they can exchange hefty back slaps.

Indian, my counterpart in the Vegas chapter, follows his prez and he and I exchange similar man hugs.

“Welcome, my brother, Grumbler. You need our help getting your missing man back?” His voice is a rich baritone.

“That we do, Brother.” I give him a chin lift.

All around me, brothers are greeting brothers. As Indian pulls back, I scan the milling throng of bikers around me. The one thing uniting us all is the Satan’s Devils patch. I recognise most of them though I might not be able to put the right names to everyone, and quickly surmise there’s more than just Vegas here.

Taking a few steps forward brings me in front of Thunder, the Colorado sergeant-at-arms.

“Well fuckin’ met, Brother,” I greet him heartily. When he gives me chin back, and pulls me in and thumps my cut, I start to wonder whether my back will survive tonight intact. Thunder, like me, has a history with the MC going way back, and we’ve shared more than a few drinks before. More than once, we’ve fought beside each other. Comfortable, I therefore nudge him and asks quietly, “Who’re they?”

Thunder twists and gives a quick glance to where I’m pointing. “Ah, I’ve only just met them myself. The big man’s Thor. He’s Utah’s VP. Snatcher’s around here somewhere. I’ve already forgotten most of their names, oh, except for Swift, their enforcer.”

Now I spot Utah’s female member, I recognise her, of course, and there’s Bolt standing beside her. I’d met them both when they’d come to San Diego to help us out when my Mary had gotten herself into a situation. Not far away is another Utah man I recognise, but that was from when he was with Tucson. It’s Road, who I’ve heard is a fucking brave man, being that he’s Swift’s partner. The others are unknowns to me, and I eye them with interest.

Far from being the country bumpkins we’d all been led to believe, the Utah chapter has become renowned for their military and data expertise. They’re a close-knit bunch and are tending to stick together. I’m unsurprised. All other chapters look on them with suspicion. No one likes being lied to, and not when that lie has been perpetuated for years.

But they’ve turned out to come rescue Niran, and from what I now know, I reckon they’ll be good men—and woman—to have on our side.

Thunder taps my arm to get my attention. “Their sergeant-at-arms is their pilot. After flying us here, he took off immediately to go to Arizona to pick up Tucson.”

“They’re not riding in?” I’m surprised.

Thunder snorts. “Viper, Bullet and Slick aren’t. They’re bringing some toys. Drummer and the rest are biking it.”

Toys. I grin. Yeah, the more of those the better.

A sharp whistle pierces the air. Voices fall silent as Red once again bellows, “Brothers! Beers and food are available inside. Standing room only.” We all give dutiful laughs. “Drummer’s about half an hour out. When he arrives, we’ll have an officers’ only meeting, but until then, please partake of our hospitality.”

As men start moving past me, a hand falls on my shoulder. “Hey, Grumbler. How’s your old lady? Pregnancy going well?”

I turn to shake Bolt’s hand, marvelling not for the first time, how real it feels in mine. “She’s doing good, Bolt. Only another couple of months to go.” Thinking about Bolt’s prosthesis makes me wonder about asking him if there’s any advice he can give Ross, who just before we’d left had readily agreed to be our new hangaround. Although we’d probably not be able to afford the experimental model like he has, maybe he knows someone who’d be able to help.

“Bad business about Niran. I was impressed with him in San Diego.” Bolt eyes me seriously. “We’ll do whatever it takes to get him back.”

Thoughts about Ross immediately forgotten, I return to the business at hand. “We’ve gotta move fast, Bolt. That’s if…” I can’t even voice what I’m thinking.

His hand squeezes my shoulder. “We’ve had some ideas on the way across. And Preacher’s got a few surprises up his sleeves. Stormy’s making his own way here. He’s driving a command centre. We’ll get him back, Grumbler.”

I fucking hope so.I raise my chin, wordlessly showing my appreciation, and realising Utah is good to have on our team.

It’s utter chaos inside as I make my way through, finally getting a beer in my hand. Vegas members are behind the bar helping the prospects to keep the line moving, and buffet tables have been set up overflowing with food.

---