Page 11 of UnScripted

“SORRY, I HAVEN’T BEEN BY in a week. Roger has some meathead tailing me, but I took a different route, cutting between a few buildings giving him the slip. Tina said it’s club business. I feel like I’m living in an episode of Sons of Anarchy.” I bend down to pull a few weeds from the ground. “I ordered you a new headstone, and if anyone defaces it, I’m going to cut their balls off. Don’t worry Dee. I’ll make sure you rest in peace.”

Shit.

I duck low, crouching behind her headstone, hearing the steady sound of a motorcycle engine humming before coming to a stop. Peeking my head out an inch, my eyes widen as Roger walks down to the same grave he was visiting last week. His hands touch the stone that wasn’t there last time I saw him here. He bows his head for a few minutes before leaving. I wait an extra few minutes myself, then gently tread across the grass between graves, to the one he was at.

The name Colin Flynn is etched along with the dates of his birth and death. Creed’s emblem is also etched on the back of the stone with a Prez patch.

“You know him?”

“Huh?” I jump, startled at the stranger standing three feet behind me.

“I asked if you knew him.”

“Sorry, I didn’t.”

“Really? Why are you here then?”

“I’m a psychic. His soul was calling to me.”

“Oh, yeah what was the old bastard sayin’?”

“He was saying fuck you!” I spring forward kicking him in the balls, then sprint down the path through the woods.

He gave me the creeps. He was standing too close… and his hand was reaching into his back pocket. I wasn’t going to wait to see what he was about to pull out. He looked wild; crazy like he hadn’t slept or showered for days.

I don’t look back, my feet jumping over rocks, my hands force the branches back as I race down towards the road. Stumbling, I cry out and tumble for a bit before I’m able to grab a fallen branch and stop the momentum of my body.

“Fuck,” I hiss feeling the pain of scratches and bruises forming all over. Crawling behind a tree, I catch my breath and listen for any sounds that he might be following. He whistles, that creepy whistle the Saviors do in The Walking Dead. It echoes through the trees and I know I need to get the heck out of here.

Standing up, I’m grateful both ankles aren’t injured as I race down the reminder of the hill to the road.

“Get on!”

I don’t question the man I recognize as the one who has been assigned to tail me. I take his hand and climb on the back of the bike. He zips through town and tears into the lot behind Sassy’s, leaving a cloud of dust in our wake.

Shit.

The door bangs open, and men rush out with guns drawn.

I’m helped off the bike and surrounded, each of the men forming a human shield with me in the middle as they lead me inside.

I’m marched straight back to Roger’s office. The man guarding the door looks down at me with eyes full of pity before opening it and motioning me to go inside.

“Sit,” he sharply commands without even looking up from his desk. One hand shuffles through some papers while the other taps a silver pen on the desk. He’s wearing a pair of black horn-rimmed glasses that are sexy as fuck. My breath catches, noticing how his white T-shirt stretches over his chest. His biceps are huge; as thick as my thigh and covered in tats.

I sigh, just wishing it wasn’t him; that he wasn’t so effing hot. I wish he didn’t know Dee and that he was ten years younger, maybe then he might look at me as more than just a cute employee.

“I’m sorry.”

“W-what?”

“I should have never hired you. But I did. Did you know I was in a motorcycle club?”

“Was? I thought you still were?”

His pen drops on the stack of papers and he sits back crossing his arms behind his head. I don’t even bother trying to hide how my eyes fall to his muscular arms. But he doesn’t even look at me, he turns his body and looks out the window.

“I was the first Sergeant in Arms when Creed was formed here in Springdale. But some shit went down twenty years ago… that broke up the chapter here. I never officially left Creed, but all the other guys scattered, most joined the Los Angeles chapter. Anyway, I suppose you never really get out. Some shit went down a few years back, and now the blowback is coming.”

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