Captured: Hunted Love #3 (2 page)

Kellen edged just a little harder on the throttle, enough to push his front tire a few inches ahead of Eric the Red's once more. They'd jockeyed back and forth for the lead during the entire trip. Riding side by side with the bastard was not an experience Kellen cared for and he was careful not to miss an opportunity to assert his leadership. The bastard might be pushy as hell, but he knew a word from Kellen would put him and his Red Demons out of the Brothers of Sin for good. So his move to replace Kellen as the National President stayed in the realm of careful.

The only problem was, Kellen's position wasn't a great deal stronger. Yes, all the incorporated clubs, all the smaller motorcycle clubs that were members of the Brothers of Sin, had elected him to head them up, but he could fall out of favor in a heartbeat. And Eric was tight with some of the big money guys they dealt with. Technically, those people had no say in Brothers business, but since they could pull their business and take it elsewhere, their desires couldn't be ignored.

That was how Kellen found himself and his Raiders going down the road side by side with the Red Demons. A Brothers business associate who had decided to call in a favor thought Kellen was uniquely qualified to carry out his wishes. Combined with the guy's connection to Kellen's kid half-brother, the situation left Kellen with very little wiggle room. He might have refused anyway, just because he didn't like anyone, including his annoying half-brother, obligating him to some kind of favor. But when he found out the job involved Jakob Barger, he couldn't very well resist. That name was the icing on the cake.

He went back a minute with Barger, and bore the man a heavy grudge, but over the years, Kellen moved on. No fucking way he was going to waste time on a guy he'd likely never run into again. He had too many men looking to kill him to worry about chasing down one who didn't owe him blood. But when his kid brother presented him with a way to settle up for the past, and get paid a premium fee, he couldn't very well turn the job down. He was far more than ready to take that revenge and get paid for it, even if the offense was small. Either way, he didn't intend to waste a single minute. He had a hot woman on the string and he had every intention of giving her what she wanted the minute he got back home.

Eric the Red raised a hand in a quick signal for his men to pull over at the Park 'n' Ride just ahead. So much for not wasting time. They weren't even at the halfway point yet and the jerk wanted a rest break. He should just keep the Raiders rolling on, but getting separated from the other club made the possibility of betrayal skyrocket. The Demons weren't above setting an ambush to prevent Kellen from getting the job done, and further undermining his Presidency of the Brothers. Eric had already made clear he thought his club could do the job just as well. Fuck that shit. Kellen flipped a hand to his own crew to let them know they would stop as well.

He slowed, matching Eric, and they rolled into the gravel parking lot, the men immediately splitting into two groups. Kellen brought his men far enough away from the others to keep from being overheard. The Raiders positioned themselves to present the Demons with nothing but patches and tail lights, to keep anything said in their unique mixture of sign and spoken language private.

Hack signaled for attention and the men halted their tense banter and waited for orders. Kellen took over, warning them to be careful of a double-cross. "We stick like flies on shit with those guys. Pick one out and stay on him. They don't even get to piss in private."

"Yeah, boss." One by one, the Raiders acknowledged the orders.

After a few moments, Demon bikes roared to signal the breakup of their talk, and Kellen rolled to a neutral spot and waited for Eric to approach. Kellen raised his chin. "'S up, man, why'd you call a halt?"

Eric returned the arrogant chin-lift, trademark ginger beard jutting forward aggressively. "My men have been on the road hard for a week, with no down-time. We're coming up on a sweet li'l town in a few miles. Time to stop for a good feed and some fun."

The scowl tried to force its way across his brow but he managed to control it. He gave a brief shake of his head. "Nah, I don't think so, man. We've got three hours' good daylight left before we need to find a place a circle up for the night. We'll stop in a couple hours."

"There's a place twenty minutes down the road with good food, good pussy, and a safe place to hole up. It would be stupid to pass it up just to make a few more miles."

Kellen thought about it. Any time they gained by pressing on could easily be lost to tired and cranky men doing stupid shit. "A'right, man. We'll cut it short today and get a good night off, then an early start."

Triumph flashed through Eric's blue eyes, and Kellen quickly realized his mistake. Allowing that bastard to call even a single shot would look like a concession, and he couldn't afford that. Even logic and legitimate consideration of the men could
not
be allowed to make him appear weak. He'd have to roll their asses out at dawn to regain the standing this move lost him. Too late to change it now. He resumed his place at the head of one side of the column of roaring bikes.

  He made a full three bike lengths ahead before Eric caught up. The bastard needed to be kept off-balance for the rest of the ride. Kellen couldn't afford to allow anyone to question his leadership and continue breathing.

He eased back and took the next exit, once more making Eric the Red play keep-up. Down the ramp, he merged into the light traffic, confident his men would keep the column tight. No four-wheelers were going to compromise their safety. As his Road Captain, ex-Marine Fabio kept the men alert and on their toes every instant.

Just ahead, he spotted a dairy bar, one of those little mom-and-pop restaurants that usually had both indoor and outdoor seating and catered mainly to locals. In his experience, those little places had great food, too.

In a split second decision, he veered into the little semicircular lot, and stopped beside a handful of outdoor tables. From the scowl Eric wore, he was
not
a happy individual at having to guess Kellen's next move. Oh well. Kellen parked his bike and dismounted, ready to eat a decent meal and hit the sack. He had a long few days behind him.

The Raiders parked and stretched, and looked around while they waited for their counterparts in the Red Demons to catch up. Hack approached, wearing his usual frown. "Why are we here? Surely this town has something better in the way food?"

"Maybe. But it probably also has surveillance cameras, and this little is less likely to." He turned toward the little window where patrons could place and pick up their order without having to go inside. Then he paused. "And Hack? I know you're not questioning my authority. Because that would be a huge mistake." Point made, he continued on to order his meal.

After a wait for his food, Kellen sat at one of the outdoor tables, and soon Trip joined him. A pair of kids climbed up at the next table with ice cream cones. The older one, a girl, seemed to be taking care of the other, admonishing the little boy to sit still.

Trip amused himself by making faces at the little guy, grinning when the kid laughed. The incongruity of the big stereotypical biker acting silly to amuse a little kid struck Kellen.  Few people would believe the rough-looking bastard actually liked kids.

A shriek split the air, and Kellen looked around for the source. The little kid stared in dismay at where his ice cream cone slopped along the attached seat of the table and the bulk of it melted quickly on the hot pavement below. Tears rolled and the kid screamed.

The big sister tried in vain to quiet him, looking quietly panicked. Kellen sort of felt sorry for her, but he'd be damned if he let anyone know it. Instead, he concentrated on his tenderloin sandwich while he listened in. The girl started pulling change from the pocket of her ragged jeans, desperately counting and coming up short. She looked as if she wanted to cry, too. Her next move was to offer the rest of her cone to her brother, but he wasn't having it. He wanted his own.

"Poor kid." Tripp fished out his wallet and took out a twenty. After a struggle to untangle his legs from the bench, he managed to stand and headed for the kids. "Hey, li'l mama. Here you go. Get him a new cone, and get you both something good."

The little girl stared at him, eyes huge, tears clinging to her lashes and ready to pour out. She was clearly terrified, but the cries of her little brother convinced her. Slow and careful, she reached out for the money. Finally, she took it. "Th…Thank you, sir."

Trip grinned. "You good, li'l mama. You be good and take care of the li'l man." He returned to his seat, still smiling.

Kellen shook his head. "Why the hell you do that?"

"They're homeless and hungry. Li'l man wanted a hot dog, but all she had money enough for was one cone. The girl at the window gave them a second one." Trip shrugged. "They need it worse than I do."

Kellen dropped the subject and went back to eating. Stupid fucker. He'd pick up any stray that came along. Over the years, he'd took in more dogs and cats than anybody Kellen knew of. He always found them a home, but still. It was ridiculous. The guy was mean as hell in a fight, single-minded in his devotion to the Raiders—then he'd pick up a starving kitten and bottle feed it until it was ready to go to a new home. In-fucking-sane.

The Raiders were accustomed to Trip's fondness for strays. But Eric the Red and his Red Demons noticed the charitable act. After a moment of astonished silence, a flurry of conversation erupted and gradually faded back to normal. But Kellen noticed one pair with their heads together, talking intently and throwing glances in Trip's direction. Trouble waiting to happen, most likely. Well, if they started it, he and the Raiders would finish it, no problem.

Finally they all finished eating and by some unspoken consensus, headed for the bikes. "There's a little country bar a couple miles on down." Eric swung onto his bike. "Normally there's some good pussy hanging out there." The bikes roared in unison and Kellen made sure to stay abreast of Eric as they filed out of the lot.

On down the road, Eric didn't bother trying to stay ahead of Kellen. The sign for the bar appeared from around a curve, swinging from a post beside the road. A big gravel parking lot sprawled around a low wood-sided building, which looked like it had been added to many times over the years. Across the front, a broad porch held a collection of benches and chairs, a couple of which were occupied.

All the bikes rolled into the lot, creating a deliberately impressive dust cloud with a few skidded tires, and parked right up front, ready to roll at a moment's notice. The men dismounted and grouped up loosely with Eric and Kellen at the center. Wary, and no doubt dangerous-looking, they watched every detail as they stepped onto the porch, then through the broad door in a show of force.

All wasted effort. Only a handful of people sat scattered throughout the booths not far from the bar. At Hack's signal, the Raiders dropped into chairs surrounding several tables and the Demons hurried to do the same.

Kellen chose his seat and waited for Eric to sit. "Where's all that good pussy you promised, man?"

Eric scowled. "Be patient. It's still early. Get a beer."

"I didn't come here for a beer." Hack's gaze rested on the chubby gray-haired waitress approaching them at a snail's pace. "And the only pussy I see is all dried up. I'm out."

The two Demons who'd been holding the intent conversation back at the dairy bar grinned. "Be patient, man. This round's on your boy there, the one that likes to give money to panhandling little brats."

Trip rose with a glower and clenched fists. "I'll buy a round for my Brothers, but not for a bunch of curs that weaseled their way into the operation."

A grumble passed through the Red Demons, until Eric raised a hand to signal for quiet. "No weaseling needed. We're just here to make sure the job gets done right. The man paying the bills doesn't trust that it will." He looked around at the Raiders. "Red Demons always get it done."

Cold anger rolled through Kellen. The reference to one of his hang-abouts stealing a cut and knocking over a liquor store with Raider colors on full display, and the fiasco that followed, was uncalled for. The right blood had flowed for that offense. Job done. "The day a filthy Demon can do something a Raider can't, hell will freeze up. Ya'll might as well tuck tail and head on home, like you usually do when trouble shows up."

The middle-aged waitress wisely sensed a problem and turned back toward the kitchen. Two of the patrons grinned and turned their chairs for a clear view of the action. They seemed ready to start taking bets on the outcome. Clear proof that the place was short on decent entertainment.

The moment balanced on the hair-trigger of Eric the Red's notoriously nasty temper and all the outlaws held their breath, waiting to see how much blood would flow.

In a monumental display of control, Eric the Red laughed. It sounded more like a growl, but the truly frightening part was the demonstration of how powerful Eric considered the man giving the orders. "We'll settle that shit up. After work."

"Yeah, we sure as fuck will. In the meantime, you tell your boys to keep their bullshit to themselves. Next Demon to make a wise-ass remark about Trip helping those kids is going to need a band-aid to hold his guts inside his belly. We clear?"

Eric's face went redder than his name, but he gritted his teeth and finally nodded a little. "They'll keep it shut."