Page 3 of Exile & Lula
On the second floor, more gunfire rang out. The men stopped arguing.
“We’re leaving,” said one of them and dragged me by my hair out from under the SUV.
My feet scraped along the ground as I fought to remain limp. Finally, he lifted me.
Just before he shoved a bag over my head, I saw Cher drop from the second floor and collide with the concrete walkway. Without thinking, I moved in her direction.
The man kicked out my knee and sent me skidding on the ground. He lifted me quickly and heaved my body into the SUV. Another man shoved the bag over my head while the first guy zip-tied my ankles.
Pinned to the floor, I flinched as the men piled into the SUV. The vehicle jerked forward as their feet kept my body trapped.
Though I was never an overly negative person, I also refused to embrace silly hopes. That’s why I assumed Stevie and Cher were dead, and a world of pain awaited me when this SUV arrived wherever it was headed.
DANIEL “EXILE” SHAW
My best days were the ones when I spent my mornings and afternoons riding with my Black Rainbow club brothers before sharing quiet evenings at home with my sister, Nova, and her girls, four-year-old Skylar and three-year-old Lyric.
Today was one of those days. Hours ago, I was riding around Baton Rouge with York, Ojai, and Chappy. We hit up several businesses partially owned by the club. I shared a pizza lunch with the guys before we dropped by our clubhouse to see our president, Zodiac Bondi.
By four, I had arrived home for dinner and was grilling burgers in the backyard of the one-story house I shared with my sister and the girls. We were just cleaning up when I got the call from my president.
Though I had zero interest in chasing down another motorcycle club’s problem, I had given up the right to say no when I accepted Zodiac’s offer to become the VP of the newly reorganized Black Rainbow Motorcycle Club.
Several months ago, my president forged an alliance with the Crimson Guard Motorcycle Club based out of Little Memphis. The idea was for our clubs to work together to destroy a shadowy mob crawling its way into our territories.
I hadn’t seen the point of making nice with the Arkansas club. Maybe I was old-fashioned, but I couldn’t take women bikers seriously. Meeting with the Crimson Guard crew hadn’t changed my mind. Despite how their president came off like a pretty-boy airhead, Zodiac swore Clint Reed acted that way to test people.
“He’s the real deal, just like his dad,” Zodiac insisted.
My president fostered too much respect for the old Little Memphis Motorcycle Club and especially Ford Reed. Clint’s dad was one of the few people to take down Zodiac in a fight.
“It’d been a close battle,” Zodiac always claimed, “but I hadn’t come out on top of that one.”
Zodiac probably held too much sway over me. I wasn’t a kid in need of a mentor. We were only a few years apart in age. Our personalities complemented each other, though. I tended to only see immediate problems, while Zodiac always focused on the big picture.
That was why he became president despite the old one fighting to remain in power. Zodiac believed in loyalty until it got in his way.
“I know what needs to be done,” he explained to me and our loyal guys when we led an uprising against Wrecker. “We can ride to the end with a guy wearing blinders, or we can insist on a new destiny.”
All my life, I’d wanted to feel right in my skin. My family couldn’t give me what I needed. Though the Marines offered me a chance to leave South Dakota, I didn’t like the military’s rules.
Yet, during my service, I met York, who had been running from his legacy back in Baton Rouge. The Marines gave him a temporary out. After a bomb nearly ended his life, York decided to stop running. By then, I was ready to leave the military, so I followed him home like a lost puppy.
The Black Rainbow club gave me everything I needed. That’s why, when Zodiac told me to ride to the aid of the Crimson Guard’s lawyer, I chose my fastest hog and raced toward Arkansas.
By the time I reached the state border, I was one of a dozen Black Rainbow members riding in a group. Zodiac took the lead. His dark blond hair appeared slicked back as the wind fought toslow us down. Next to me was York, the club’s road captain. He wore a black helmet over his dark hair.
Zodiac never said where we were headed, but I assumed the club’s snitch within the Void gave us an address.
The Void was the group behind many attacks on the Black Rainbow’s assets. They were also the fuckers who hired a lowlife piece of shit to shoot Nova in the back while she was shopping at Winn-Dixie. Though I’d killed the man who nearly murdered my sister, I still wanted vengeance against the guys behind the hit.
I knew the men holding Tallulah Reed weren’t the assholes in charge. The Void hid in the shadows, hiring local goons to pull jobs and claim territory. Though I might never gain revenge for what they did to my sister, finding the Crimson Guard’s lawyer could get me a step closer.
Miles outside Little Rock, the sun began setting over the quiet land of isolated homes and long stretches of fields. We figured the assholes were making their way to Texas, which was considered the Void’s home base. Instead, the hired assholes stopped at a ranch a hundred miles from the state border.
“They’re handing her off to a new crew,” Zodiac said as we concealed our rides in the woods and prepared to approach the house on foot. “The Void wants Lula alive.”
Despite our snitch normally having solid intel, I remained wary of this potential ambush scenario. This would be a perfect setup to eliminate the Black Rainbow.
