Page 86 of Salvation

“Where to, miss?” The taxi driver asked.

“It’s not like I have a choice. Home it is.”

I pulled into the club grounds, telling the taxi driver to stop near the entrance of the compound and I’d walk the rest of the way.

With the mood Dante was in, I couldn’t guarantee that he wouldn’t do something stupid like set the damn car on fire.

Fucking psychotic, behemoth, pyromaniac, prick!

As I walked into the club, I saw Dante and Trent leaning over a table, a bunch of maps spread out.

“I think this is the best route, brother. The event has got bigger and bigger over the years. I know Crash liked to have us begin at the hospital, but I think trying it this way might work out better. If not, we can go back to Crash’s way for the Christmas run.”

“Sounds good to me. At least doing the infirmary in the middle gives us a chance to recoup. So we set off from the club?” Dante asked, and then ran his finger over the map.

“What are you doing?” I asked, stepping over to them.

“Club business,” Dante said shortly, not bothering to look at me.

“Point made,” I sighed, attempting to walk away. I didn’t take more than a few steps before he snatched my arm and pulled me close to the table.

“I’m sorry.” I nodded at him as a response and looked back at the map. “We’re organising the Easter run,” he told me, stepping back to give me full access.

And just like that, we were supposed to be back to normal. He said sorry, and that was enough as far as he was concerned. And then he wondered why we could never make this work.

“What’s the Easter run?” I asked, ignoring the thoughts swirling in my mind. It wouldn’t get me anywhere to press the matter further and cause an argument.

“Has Jenna not told you?” Trent asked with a grin. “Every year, the entire club dresses up as Easter themed characters. We deck the bikes out with bells, lights, the works. And then we ride around Leeds, collecting money for sick children at the hospital. We’re gonna be stopping off there and delivering some Easter eggs for them,” he finished, almost bouncing on the spot with excitement.

My head snapped in Dante’s direction, but he still didn’t look up from the map.

“No,” I said, swallowing past the lump in my throat. “Jenna didn’t tell me.”

“We do it for Christmas as well. We attach a boombox to the president’s bike—which will obviously be Dante this year—and blast Christmas music as we drive around. Last year, Hacksaw made his bike look like a reindeer, and Vienna had the bright idea of making a sleigh to attach to the back. He painted his beard white—with actual fucking paint, mind you,” he laughed, shaking his head. “And then decided to sit in the sleigh being dragged along the road. We delivered the presents to the hospital whilst he got treated for concussion and a broken arm.”

“How did he break his arm?” I grinned despite myself.

“He got on his knees and was throwing tinsel. He pissed Hacksaw off enough that he threw the bike to the side, and Vienna went flying off the sleigh,” Dante murmured with a soft chuckle as he recounted the memory.

“Of course he did. Because he wouldn’t be Vienna if he wasn’t annoying people. What’s the plan for this year?”

“To keep that stupid bastard on his bike,” Dante said.

“We’re gonna start at the clubhouse, and then drive through here,” Trent said, pointing at the map. “Leading through toLeeds city centre. From there, we’ll take this route to the hospital, and then back home. We already have collection boxes in the shops around the compound, as well as at Greasy. And then there will be boxes attached to the bikes on the night as well. It’s well advertised, and people know where to gather to see us—we slow down at certain spots. The old ladies usually sit in the pickup truck driven by one of the prospects and collect the money, as well as handing out a few smaller gifts to the children waiting to see us.”

How the fuck did I have no idea that this was taking place? How had I never heard anyone talk about it before?

“You never stuck around long enough to find out about it, Rachel,” Dante snapped, looking at my face closely, as though he could read my every thought.

“Is it too late for me to join the old ladies?” I asked, ignoring his comment.

Trent frowned at me. “What?” I snapped.

“Nothing,” he said, holding his hands up in surrender. “It’s just… Why are you asking? I don’t want to cause any further conflict, but you do realise, as of Christmas, this will be your responsibility? It’s never too late for you to get involved.”

“What?” My eyes flew to Dante again, but it was Trent who answered.

“As Dante’s old lady, you will be organising the old ladies and sorting out their roles. You’ll also be helping with costumes.” He looked back and forth at me and Dante. “We’ve not asked you to for the Easter run because… well… no one knew you were coming back, and Jenna and Imogen have already done most of the legwork. But since Dante is the president, it would make sense that his old lady was taking a front and centre role in this.”

---