Page 71 of Roses Are Dead
I let out a deep sigh. “I was this close, man.” I held my fingers up, barely a millimeter of space between them.
He slapped my back. “You know what we need to do, right?”
I sent him a side-eye. “Lemme guess. Ride home and fix that?”
His grin spread wide. “Called it.” He glanced at the sun. It hung over the trees. Not quite an urgent signal, but it would be close to dark before we all landed at the junkyard to patch KC in. I signaled for Sprout to gather the wagons. Wolf walked over and straddled his bike, walking it closer to mine. He reached over and put two fingers on my gas tank. “You know, Tits insisted I get a flush-mount. Best money I ever spent.”
With that, he revved up his machine and took lead next to Sprout. I hung back, letting Hickey and Smoke fill in the next set. I pulled alongside Sketch and sat firmly in the center of the pack. We tore out as one unit. Not nearly as impressive as the thunder of thirty-plus bikes, but it didn’t suck.
The chaser van was parked inside the lot, close to the club’s main building. Kate’s car hadn’t moved since early afternoon. Tits parked her bike where Wolf’s should be. He idled in front of it, staring. “One of these days…” He shook his head and parked alongside it. Sprout was first off his bike, using his long legs to his advantage to beat us all inside.
By the time I caught up, he already had Danielle up against a wall and deep into a lip lock. Pregnant as she was, it was interesting he could even lift her into that position.
Speaking of… Rose sat at the bar. But so did Zoe. She’d kept to the perimeter of our crew during the ride, someone always outside with her and her mother, but damn it, they should be home. I included all three women in my announcement. “I’m escorting you ladies home soon. Kate, you good to drive?” She’d had a few beers during the milder moments of the trip. And Zoe was more than capable of getting her home, but for some reason, I wanted an excuse to sic a prospect on them.
Before she could answer, Wolf stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled hard. “Yo, listen up. It is my profound pleasure to introduce the latest motherfucker who we call brother. KC? Get your ass over here.”
I grinned because Wolf springing it on the crew wasn’t necessarily a surprise, but he dragged out the timing to happen as soon as we were all mostly in one spot and safely tucked at home. Sprout scrambled to right his wife, then stood by Wolf’s side. “Where’s that fucking vest?” he yelled.
Someone dug it out from the meeting room where we’d hidden it. The name patch was a rush job we had Hagerstown ferry up while we were riding. Wolf slapped his hand on KC’s name patch, hard.
“I know you got used to us calling you Whoosh, but Kill Count sounds much better for a Destroyer.” He slammed his fist down hard in the same spot. KC staggered under the blow, but kept his feet.
“Have at him. Whoever takes him down first gets dibs on the best room upstairs.” Five men rushed in.
I cupped my hands around my mouth so my voice would carry. “KC, you can fight back.”
And with that, the melee began.
Poke went down. Smoke’s heart wasn’t in it. He wouldn’t dream of taking his woman upstairs. Wolf had Tits, but already made his point, twice. Sprout laughed his ass off the whole time he swung wildly at KC.
Sketch was ruthless, but Isobel loudly reminded him she’d leave without him if he won a room. He caught a fist to the jaw when he tried to reason with her.
Cooper smacked KC in the vest. Almost exactly where Wolf had. That had to sting. Coop might be old, but that motherfucker was still fast with a right hook. He held out his hands and let KC know he’d taken his shot. Big Joe waded in and everyone paid attention. Money changed hands. KC slipped, but locked a leg. With KC’s retaliatory kick, Joe went down to a knee and groaned. “Motherfucker. That’s my bad leg.” He limped away.
KC’s hands flexed, adrenaline and pain mixing with his joy at finally getting a patch. His left hand rubbed the name plate leaving a smear of blood. Baldy took his time. Fists up and feet moving. I dissected his form. He was getting better.
Rocket used the distraction to hit KC on the blind-side and took him to the floor.
“Foul!” I yelled. “Doesn’t count.”
They rolled a moment, and KC let loose a flurry of punches that left the smaller man reeling. Baldy held a hand out to get KC on his feet again. Before he let go, he shot out a left hook that caught KC in the eyebrow. It rocked him, and it took two backwards staggered steps before KC shook it off.
“Damn. Thought I had him.” Baldy held his hands out, having his shot and wisely not pushing it any further.
Hickey went down. Skinner, too. Cutty didn’t stand a chance.
I pulled Rose close. “We will go home soon. Okay?”
She nodded and accepted the quick kiss I tapped on her cheekbone.
The club whistled as I walked up. Wisely, no one cast a bet.
KC’s eye was starting to swell where Baldy caught him. “You need ice on that?”
I got a wary nod from KC.
He held ready for me. I shrugged. With a glance around at the men and a wink toward the ladies now clustered together at the bar, I squared off. “One shot.” I held my arms wide.
