Page 5 of Desert Heat

Something’s gotta give but I know Tarak won’t give up his new starring role as Baby Daddy.

My nostrils flared at the smoke curling up high into the desert sky. Whoever hit us didn’t just steal hundreds of thousands of dollars’ worth of stolen cars and bikes.

They lit our shit up like the Fourth of July. It was a bold statement to make. Just the sight of the Royal Bastard patch used to be enough to guard our turf. Seems like those days are over. I rode my Harley right through the flames itching to get at my leather cut.

“Danny!” I screamed as smoke choked my lungs. Danny was in charge of the yard. I could barely see through the black smoke as I raised my head scarf in front of my face. Fire licked the tips of steel-toes boots. “DANNY!” I roared as parts of the interior roof collapsed. It began to rain fire. Specks of burning ash fell. This was hell. The smell of burned steal, the heat, flames of fire all around you that were unescapable. But Danny was my brother. I swore an oath.

“River?!” Strong steady hands grabbed my shoulders just as I was ready to sprint through the burning flames. “No.”

“Tarak? ‘Bout time you fucking got here!”

His eyes narrowed behind the cloth he held in front of his face. Tarak still had the Prez patch even if I thought he lost the right to it.

“I can’t find Danny!”

“We can’t help him if he’s in there! Let’s search around back.”

I followed Tarak as we dogged falling debris to the back perimeter of the building. Some of our men were hauling what might be salvageable from annex buildings. It was my job to find Danny. Everyone trusted me to do it.I couldn’t fail.

My cell was burning to the touch, I was surprised the damn thing still functioned as I hit call.

“Fuck!” Tarak took off following the ringtone coming from the edge of the fence fifty feet away.

I saw his body lying in the desert.

A rage like I’ve never felt rose from the center inside me.

Blood trickled down the side of his head. His glazed eyes went right through me. Tarak knelt in the dirt; two fingers pressed to Danny’s throat.

He shook his head indicating what I already knew.

“They’ll fucking pay for this.”

His somber eyes agreed. Tarak took out his knife, cut his Prez patch right off his cut and tossed it at my feet. “I don’t deserve that anymore. I lost my right to wear it. This shit is all on me. But you’ll be the one to right it.”

Stunned, my fingers felt frozen despite the black burns on the tips as I picked up the patch from the ground. I held it as my free hand closed Danny’s eyes for the last time. “Rest in peace, brother.”

I felt my brothers at my back, having silently gathered. I knew there would be church.

A vote.

But not until we held a Club funeral for Danny. Sirens filled the distance. We didn’t call this in but smoke like this on a clear desert night would be seen a county over. Involving the authorities is something we never do. Standing, I gave my first command, “take him for one last ride. Razor and Sharpie you stay with me and deal with all that.” I gestured to the firetrucks and police about a quarter mile away. “The rest of you clear out. I’ll text you for Church. Could be an all-nighter clean up.”

Wordlessly the men, headed out. Tarak’s stood behind me, hands on his hips. At his nod of approval, everyone did what I said.

Me.

River.

The kid-turned-man who might just be ready to step into the shoes of the once legend.

“You nervous?” Razor asked as we waited for the rest of the men to get to the Clubhouse. We buried Danny at the base of the mountain that’s visible from out back.

“Fuck, no. I was born for this shit.”

Razor raised a brow, saying no more. Ever since the fire three days ago, I had barely slept.

It was like an auto-pilot function I never knew I had, switched on. There was no vote but in my gut the role was already mine—Prez of the Royal Bastards, Santa Fe.

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