I head outside to see a group that’s geared up, and Tank is amongst them. I leaned on the workshop wall and watched, not wanting to get involved. Tank looked to the clubhouse before leaving at the tail end of the group. I don’t know if he saw me standing here. I was a little emotional for some reason watching him ride away.
I watched those who were not going back inside, and I returned to my work.
Lost in my work, thinking of what had happened to this bike to be in such a mess, and whether the rider made it, the frame was bent, I might have to make a whole new one. I have the makings here and know how to do it, but I will speak with the Prez as to whether he wants me to go to those lengths. If it were to go out on the road again, it would be best to build a new frame rather than straighten this one. My Grandpa would have pushed to create a new one; he believed you weaken the frame by straightening it in this condition.
Lunch came and went, Cricket brought out some food, and restocked my fridge with water.
They’re looking after me here, more than I expected.
I feel special and wanted.
“Maxi, Max. Come dinner time.” Cricket called out to me from the doorway.
I turned everything off and locked up. I could hardly believe the day was gone already.
It was dark when I went to the workshop, and it is dark now as I left it.
I washed up in an outside bathroom and headed in.
The food smelled tasty, so I grabbed a plate and headed in to find where everyone was. The men hadn’t returned yet; they had been gone all day, and I picked up the worrying whispers around the room.
Tank POV
We headed to the industrial section of town. There are a few vacant warehouses we considered fixing up and renting out. One of our brothers was considering starting a business, and a warehouse would be a perfect place to start.
The rumble of our bikes always turns heads our way, and everyone in town knows we’re on the move and in which direction we go. At least half the little town was family, in one way or another.
I saw the bikes parked in a row outside one of the warehouses, with no guards on the outside. We parked next door and walked to the warehouse. You would have thought someone would have come out to investigate; bikes are not exactly quiet.
A scream came from inside, a woman’s scream, one I knew immediately. I had heard it only yesterday.
Pixie.
Stupid girl, she was told to get out of town when she had the chance.
Slowly, we reached the warehouse and looked in.
There was Pixie, a bloody mess on the floor, sobbing. She looked worse than when we left her, and her face was pretty bad then. From my vantage point, one of the guys who was in the house with her yesterday was close by, but I couldn’t see the other two yet.
Bruiser hand-signaled the guys to spread out and get ready to enter.
I moved to Bruiser’s side, where being VP would be expected.
He nodded when I placed my hand on his shoulder, letting him know I was there, and he was in control.
He raised his hand so we could all see it, and, lowering a finger at a time, counted down when we should enter. When his hand became a fist, we entered the building. The others entered too, but kept back in the shadows, keeping out of plain sight for now.
“Jones,” Bruiser’s booming voice, entered the almost empty warehouse, above the sounds of Pixie’s cries, the two men I hadn’t been able to see from my hiding place, were on the ground, rolling in pain, and also looked at us as the six of us moved forward, the rest staying in the shadows for now.
“We are here to repay for an injustice done to us,” one of the Jones boys said, snarling at us, at the same time as kicking Pixie in the stomach. She screamed in pain as the foot connected. Even though I did not care for the woman, I didn’t like it, because it was not the way.
I believe men should treat women, not something I could stomach doing. My granny would be turning in her grave if I treated a woman so harshly.
“It would be preferred if you checked with us before you enter our area and got the approval to be on our turf.” Bruiser, ever the diplomat, Prez was a hit: first, ask questions later. Type person. That’s why he sent Bruiser to handle this and stayed behind. I am slow to temper, but once there, watch out. I balance out the Prez. I had been told that was a large part of why they picked me as VP. Plus, Bruiser didn’t want the position; he was happy being Sarge-of-arms.
“We would have, but we got word these birds were flying the coop, and we needed to bag ’em before they left.” A scuffy-looking man said, before he spat on the ground.
“I strongly suggest you take your problem away with you and leave our turf.” I could feel that Bruiser might be closer to wanting to rumble than I first thought; there was more to this that I was not privy to.
New Book: Back Home to Marry Off Myself
Loredana’s father left the family for his mistress, leaving them to fend for themselves abroad. When life was at its toughest, her father showed up with “good news” after 8 years of absence: To marry off Loredana to a paralyzed son of the wealthy Mendelsohn family.