With the wind whipping at my face, my brothers at my back, I remember the reasons I joined the MC, the reasons why I always wanted to be a member. Freedom. Loyalty. Family. As boys, Gage and I would ride our bicycles around like Harleys, praying for the day when we could have the real thing. As we got older, we started wanting different things; I wanted to be a doctor, and he wanted to be a pilot. We thought we could have it all. However, I went off to college and Chopper held him closer, pulling him away from his dream and deeper into the MC. Thanks to Raven and her encouragement, Gage received his Private Pilot License. At least he’s achieved that goal in some measure. He was born into the MC life, and whether he realizes it or not, he was bornforit. Me, on the other hand… I love it, but I could survive without it.
In my mirror, I spot two vans about to pass us. It may be nothing, but I’m not taking any chances. This is a lonely stretch of road that not many people use. I signal to Gage and he indicates he saw them, too. Dropping his right hand, he lets it hang limply at his side, telling the others to be on alert. Once they’re in front of us, he slowly raises his hand, reaching for his gun in the back of his jeans. I don’t want to raise an alarm, so I decide against going for mine. Ahead of us, the vans screech to a halt, burning out the tires. I stop, pulling my Glock from the holster. Razor immediately positions himself in front of Gage. Venom joins him, creating a barrier between us and the vans. When the smoke clears, two more vans pull up behind us, effectively blocking us in. I wait with bated breath, finger poised on the trigger.
No one moves.
The tension is so high, I can hear my heart beating.
A vision of Ellen and Mikey flashes before my eyes.
The drivers in the vans in front of us rev the engines. The ones behind us follow suit.
“Fuck this shit!” Gage shouts, firing at the vehicles before us.
Shit.
Venom, Razor, and I cover him as he kicks the stand down and grabs another gun from his boot, hopping off and walking forward to meet the enemy head-on. Chopper and Tek take on the ones in the rear. All four vans peel out, leaving us in another cloud of smoke.
As Gage storms back to his bike, he digs his phone out of his pocket, shouting into it, “What?” He listens for a beat, and then his eyes go wide. “Motherfuck!”
That’s not good.
“We need to get back to the clubhouse. Now!”
We hightail it back, my brain working overtime the entire ride. What the hell is going on? First Chopper, now this. Someone is definitely fucking with us.
It’s dark by the time we get back to the compound, but I notice that the gates and walls are riddled with bullet holes. Fuck.
We hurry inside, Gage shouting for Raven. She emerges from the back where the rooms are, throwing herself into his arms.
“What the hell happened?” I ask Crow.
“Drive-by. Ten, maybe fifteen bikes, like ducks in a row. No one was hit. I get the feeling they weren’t trying to kill.”
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I dial Ellen. When she picks up, I cut her off before she can finish her “hello.”
“Everything okay?”
“We’re good. Mikey and Tyler are still watching TV. I was thinking of taking a bath.”
“Good. Something came up, and I may be longer than I planned. Sorry, babe.”
“What’s going on, Jon?” she asks, a slight tremor in her voice.
“We’ll talk when I get home.”
“Okay,” she replies, hesitantly.
“Church!” Gage yells, stomping toward the chapel.
We file in, taking our respective seats, game faces on. The prez remains standing.
“Someone please tell me how everything’s gone to shit around here? What the fuck happened?”
Crow repeats his story, Gage getting more inflamed with each word. He kicks his chair, sending it smashing into the table.
“They’re dead. They’re fucking dead!”
“I checked the camera footage, boss,” Tek says. “They were all wearing black hoodies, no logos, nothing.”