Page 54 of Ride Forever
Chapter 20
Sloane
Iwoke the next morning to an empty bed.
Rolling over, I smiled as I saw a hastily scrawled note from Chaser on the bedside table.Talking with Gasket. He really did have horrible handwriting.
After a hot shower, I found my way to the garage in search of the two most important men in my life. Glancing around the dark space, I couldn’t spy them, but I found another crew instead.
“Sloane!”
I grinned as Ratchet waved me over. A whole bunch of familiar faces had gathered around the motorcycles that Chaser and I had stolen from the Hollow Riders. It still felt weird calling them that. Kind of pathetic, actually. I bit my lip to stop myself from laughing—it really wasn’t something to joke about—and went to stand with the guys.
“Hey,” I said, punching Spike in the arm. “Long time.”
“Couple of weeks,” he replied. “You good?”
“It depends on your definition of good.” I made a face and glanced around at the others.
Stewie, Hopper, Ratchet, Spike, and Watts all had a beer in their hands and seemed happy enough to see me despite all the shit I’d gotten them into.
“How’s Rhodes?” I asked, remembering he got shot at the cabin. That night and everything before it seemed as if it was covered in a haze—as if it had happened to someone else. I wondered why that was.
“Butcher patched him up,” Hopper said. “He’s in San Fran with Deluca lookin’ after the girls.”
“Don’t let Shondra hear you refer to her as a girl,” Spike said with a laugh.
“She’s my woman,” the biker immediately shot back and flipped the younger man the bird.
I frowned, knowing the guys missed their other halves. I hoped whatever Chaser and Gasket were discussing would help bring a swift end to this. If I was separated from Chaser… Well, hell had nothing on it.
“Wanna beer, Sloane?” Ratchet asked.
“It’s a bit early for that,” I replied, raising my eyebrows.
“Dark days call for partyin’ when we can,” Watts quipped.
I tensed and looked at the two motorcycles. “Anything we can do with these? Scratch off the serial numbers? Strip them down?”
“You want to strip down a motherfucking Harley Davidson?” Spike’s mouth fell open. “Have we taught you nothing?”
“That was Rocket’s bike,” Ratchet said with a snicker. “Bet he’s madder than a bee all shook up in a jar.”
“A bee in a jar?” Watts scoffed. “Who’s a girl now?”
“Don’t say derogatory things about the fairer sex,” I declared.
“Don’t worry about that,” Spike said with a wink. “You’re not a girl, Sloane. You’re a woman.”
The bikers burst out into laughter, the sound echoing off the walls. I snorted and shook my head.
“Thanks.” I thumped him on the shoulder. “But I’m taken.”
The laughter increased, and a couple of the guys began roughing one another up. The alcohol was starting to get to them, and I wondered if they’d have poor old Monroe run off his feet later.
Turning, I surveyed the garage, my gaze raking over the racks of tools, tires, and equipment. Apart from us and a few motorcycles, the place was empty. No cars were being worked on, no customers were knocking on the door, the music was off, and the telephone unplugged. The usually noisy shop was so quiet it was eerie. If I closed my eyes and listened hard enough, I was sure I could hear the ghosts of Fortitude members past, coming out to play.
Taking another turn, I spotted Chaser’s sleek, black motorcycle in the back corner, and I smiled. One of the bikers must’ve brought it back from the cabin after the cleanup and kept it here. I was glad someone had the foresight to save a beauty like that.
