Page 4 of Bear

“Sure. I’ll have Bobby Ray get right on that.” She gives me a tight smile and then turns and pats the approaching mechanic on the chest.

He rolls his eyes, and his shoulders deflate. “But I got the Johnson job to finish up.”

“Then you better get goin’,” she calls over her shoulder. I smirk. Nice to know I’m not the only guy she enjoys emasculating.

Two other men who look just like Bobby Ray—only taller and without the shaved head—wheel my bike from the back of my truck and set it on the oil-stained concrete. One of them whistles low. “You fucked up the clutch good, didn’t ya?”

“Yeah. Looks like.” I fold my arms over my chest and watch Jupiter move around the garage like an irate little fairy. “A friend in Tennessee souped it up, but now this shit keeps happening at the worst possible times. It’s gonna set me back, isn’t it?”

“Well, I reckon it’ll be about a grand, but if anyone can fix it fast and do the job right, it’s Jupiter.” Bobby Ray scratches at the scruff on his jaw, leaving behind a smear of grease. “Come on, get in.” He walks over to the Chevy and opens the driver’s side. “I’ll drop you wherever you like.”

“Thanks.” I climb in beside him and buckle up my seatbelt. If he’s anything like his boss, I may need it. “You know the Kings of Carnage clubhouse on the outskirts of town?”

“Yeah, you could say I’ve been there a time or two.” He grins as he pulls out of the lot.

“You ride?”

“Nah. I thought about it, but Jupiter talked me out of it.”

Oh, I’d just love to know Tink’s opinion on riding. “How’s that?”

“Well, she can be pretty convincing when she wants to be. Let’s just put it that way. She’s always coming up with reasons we shouldn’t do stupid shit.”

I huff and stare out the window. Uprising is just like any other small town I’ve passed through between here and Tennessee. The townsfolk take pride in their community—that much is obvious from the manicured lawns to the fresh paint and the trimmed Cherokee Rose bushes—but no town ever came close to the beauty of the Appalachians.

“What’s her deal? She seems kinda uptight.” Especially since she looks like a fucking centerfold and far more likely to be posing for a calendar hung in the garage than actually running the place.

“Jupiter?” His eyes dart from the road to me and back again. The corners of his mouth turn down. “Why are you askin’?”

“Just curious.” I shrug, then grab the frame of the window and pretend I’m real interested in the view as we fly through Main Street.

“Then you best get uncurious,” Bobby Ray says with a low growl. “My little sister don’t date bikers.”

Sister? Thank fuck I didn’t say anything incriminating. I’m sure Tink would fly her itty-bitty self over to the clubhouse in a fit just to tear me a new asshole. I inhale slowly and take a beat to disguise my irritation before I ask, “There somethin’ wrong with bikers?”

Bobby Ray purses his lips. “Look, I don’t got no beef with you or the Kings, but I know Jupiter. She ain’t interested.”

“That her talkin’, or her big brother?”

He grins. “Well, you can try to shoot your shot, but she’s not backwards about comin’ forward. If I know my sister at all, the fact that you’re riding with me right now means you pissed her off good.”

I huff.Like I give a shit if the angry feminist is pissed at me, I’m still gonna get her naked.

I don’t have time for bitches anyway. I’m here to help out a fellow charter and to put as much distance between me and my lying, cheating fucking ex McKenna as possible. The last thing I need is another bitch twisting me up on the inside. I’m married to the goddamn road, to my bike, and I have no intention of putting down roots in rural Georgia.

But I do have time to bang that attitude right out of her. Besides, even angry feminists have needs.

We round another bend as we leave downtown behind, and the buildings give way to a thicket of trees. The clubhouse gates come into view.

Bobby Ray pulls over to the shoulder. Clearly, he has no intention of going up the drive. Probably for the best—civilians showing up unannounced are never a good thing. And I’m sure I’d hear all about it if I let Tink’s brother meet the wrong end of a .45.

“Thanks for the ride.”

“Yeah, no problem, man. We’ll call in a few days when your bike is ready.”

Great. Now I’m going to be riding bitch.

I nod and climb out of the cab. Bobby Ray throws it in drive and turns the truck around. I watch it disappear down the dirt road, then I head up the drive and inside the gate.

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