Ride with Me (5 page)

Am I wasting time by not making Lux my wife? Am I missing the time to have babies with her? I lost so much with my son.

Looking back, it still cuts deep to know Tessie did it all on her own. Sure, that was her choice, but I can see where I made the options slim to none. I wasn’t in a place to be anyone’s father, though.

Do I wish I had known about him before?

Hell yes.

Do I think it would change things?

Hell yes.

And I think it would have ruined Tessie and me, which would have been a bigger mess for Axel. I have to be thankful she was mature enough to think through where I was in life at the time.

At first, I was pissed. I don’t know anyone who wouldn’t be. Looking back, though, as much as it hurts, I know it was for the best. Now I have to focus on the future.

Checking the mirror again, I notice the same truck that has been with us in and out for three states. Not good.

“Tripp, take a time out to check oil pressure.”

Looking ahead of us, he finds an open spot and puts on his turn signal. “It’s not my eyes playing tricks on me.” He laughs.

I ready my 9mm, watching the black Chevy Avalanche. Like any smart tail, they drive past us without hesitation.

Tripp quickly memorizes the plates and texts it in for a search. It may be nothing. However, in our business, we take no chances, so everything is something until proven otherwise.

I hop out of the cab, take the orange pop up markers, and make the trail off to the side of the road to alert traffic of our truck consuming the shoulder. We have to follow every law and every rule as to not draw unnecessary attention to our load.

While we wait on the information from the boys at home, we do a quick check of the truck. The load is secure, and all equipment is in working order, so we climb back in after a reasonable amount of time has passed to give our “friends” in the Chevy a chance to get some distance before we pull out.

“Roundman,” I greet, answering my phone on the first ring.

“Watch your six. Plates are registered to a Ford Taurus, not a Chevy Avalanche.”

“Good to know,” I say before ending the call.

“Stolen?” Tripp asks as he changes gears and gets us back rolling.

“Not a match.”

He shakes his head. “Shit, we don’t even know what we could be up against.”

I send the text for our backup vehicle to become visible, and within minutes, I see the little sedan with Danza and Boomer. I can’t help laughing at the visual of those two huge men crammed into a Toyota Corolla. This is definitely one long ride for them.

“Never go anywhere without your brothers at your back.” Tripp sighs.

We didn’t have them follow us into the warehouse out of respect for Ravage MC, but on the open road, no way are we taking this kind of risk with just me and Tripp.

Danza and Boomer will scout the situation around us while we keep the hammer down and the miles passing under us. Roundman will send in more boys to catch up with us before we make it to the drop.

This shipment will make it to its destination intact. Whether there will be bloodshed along the way will depend on how much trouble others make for us. We haven’t missed a deadline yet, and we won’t start now.

Axel and I had a great weekend together. Monday is never a fun day, but as I sit at my desk and look at the picture of Axel and Rex, I can’t help smiling.

My boys. Everything that makes me happy in this life is in that very picture on my desk. Having Axel for the weekend filled a part of my heart I never knew was missing. I didn’t have family weekends with my mom, and when it came to dear old dad, I didn’t know he was my dad until I was a grown-ass woman and in a shit-load of trouble.

I wasn’t good enough. I was never acknowledged or accepted. Yet, the Hellions took me in. My Fancy Nancy life didn’t scare one of them away. Even before Rex, the club was supporting me. Doll and Sass being my roommates in college got me under the club umbrella, with Doll being the daughter of Roundman, Haywood’s Landing Hellions’ president, and Sass being the daughter to Danza, Roundman’s VP. Being tight with the girls made me fall into this family I never knew I had. When trouble came to my door, the Hellions kept me safe.

They have given me more than my own family ever has, and it keeps on coming. Everyday seems to be better than the last.

I don’t need New York. My wheels start turning and don’t stop. I don’t need a wedding in Central Park. I don’t need a wedding in a church. I need my man and our Hellions family to stand with us as we vow to ride out all of life’s curves together.

I pick up the phone and dial.

I hear BW in the background first. “Crews Transports,” Doll greets, as I hear the phone move around.

“You up for wedding planning?”

She laughs. “You gonna do this? You’re ready to be a Crews?”

With every bit of confidence I have never had, I answer, “I was born ready to be his wife. Now we’ve just gotta make it happen.”

“Timeline?”

“You know better than I do. When do they plan on rolling back in?”

She gives me a frustrated laugh. “Babe, you’ve gotta learn we don’t know shit.”

I feel tears prick behind my eyes. “I know, but like, a general idea.”

“Honey, I won’t know anything until after the transport is completed successfully. I don’t know where they are, and I won’t know when they will be home even after it’s done, because Tripp won’t tell me what direction they are coming from.”

I know all of this. Nothing she is saying is new to me. Rex has been very blunt with the lifestyle he lives. He shares what he can, but he will never break the code of silence to his club, and it’s for my protection. I completely understand.

I just want to get married. I want to be waiting in the white dress, ready to go when he gets home.

“Tripp already told me that Rex wants some time off to take you to New York. Just sit tight, babe. Your man is gonna make your every dream come true.”

“He already has,” I whisper into the phone just as I hear her shriek.

“BW, no, no, no! Honey, you can’t take off to the door.” I hear her drop the phone onto her desk. Then there are noises of her shuffling around to catch her rambunctious little guy before she comes back, out of breath. “Lux, it’s gonna be fine. Let Rex do what he does. I’ve gotta go. Come over later.”

Sit tight.

I can’t. Sorry, Doll, but I am not a woman to sit and wait on my man to make his plans. As much as I love the idea of New York, simply becoming Mrs. Drexel Devon Crews means more than the city it happens in.

My mind keeps spinning with thoughts of him coming home to become my husband and me as his wife.

Once the day passes in a blur, I make my way inside my place and immediately step out of my heels. I wish Rex was home to massage my feet. Who am I kidding? I just miss my man period, foot rubs or not.

My phone pings with a text.

Can’t call tonight. Had to detour. Gotta make up time. Love you.

Disappointment fills me, but I understand. In our life, his responsibilities to the club have to come first. This only fuels me further to make sure Rex knows I’m in for the long ride. I want to show him he’s first in my life.

Missing you. Be safe, and I’m thinking of you. Love you.

Getting up, I pour myself a glass of wine. While I sip it, I slide out my laptop and snuggle on the couch to start working out my plans.

I lean my head back on the couch and sigh. Smiling to myself, I think this has to be Rex’s favorite place to have sex. I get hot thinking about riding him in the very spot I’m sitting in while making plans for our wedding.

I make my mental list. Hotel must haves for the wedding night: a suite with a couch so I can ride my husband to the point he loses control and can’t hold back as my pussy squeezes him tightly.

“Husband,” I say the word out loud then squeal like a teenage girl. “Yes, Drexel Crews will come home to become my husband. I don’t need New York. Our love is bigger than the Big Apple, anyway.”

I spend the night on the couch with my wine, my computer, and my mind on my man. The wheels keep on turning with determination to make my plans a reality.

“Company,” the crackle of the two-way radio chimes in with Boomer’s voice.

I look in the mirror to see the Avalanche has found us again. Following our protocol, I continue to drive the rig as if we don’t know we have a tail. Tripp and I rotate who drives at stops so we each stay alert. It’s my turn, so I have to sort out the stopping point to lure in our problem.

This being a long haul with questionable goods, we have used more back roads than major highways. The speed limit may be slower, but the chances of closures and accidents are lower on the unbeaten path.

“Confirm it’s not Ravage,” Tripp clips into the phone as he calls Roundman back to try to assess who is at our back door.

It very well could be the club not trusting us or testing us and, therefore, sending a tail to follow. It wouldn’t be a show of good faith on their part, but hey, not knowing what we are pulling, maybe we need the extra eyes. Simple communication of that fact would have been better, though.

“Thanks. On it,” Tripp barks into the phone before disconnecting the call.

He looks at me and issues the order. “Treat as an unfriendly. Roundman is certain they didn’t send backup.”

I sigh and start readying myself mentally for the fallout. It’s not Ravage. They have trusted us with their goods to deliver. Whoever is following us, they messed up because we will deliver without distraction or delay. If these boys want a fight, they just earned one.

My mind goes to home for a split second. I can picture Lux with her arms around my neck and her lips on mine. I blink and then see my son, his blue eyes looking brightly into my own.

I don’t know who these fuckers are, but they have barked up the wrong tree by following this rig.

It takes a little over twenty minutes to find a dimly lit truck stop. When I pull up to the gas pump as if nothing is amiss, the Chevy pulls in not far behind us.

Amateurs. Smart men in the game would have kept driving. Smart men in the game would not have showed their cards. Smart men in the game would know this is a set up. Smart men know to be hidden. Smart men who have done this before know not to show themselves quickly. Smart men keep distance between themselves and their target so the attack is one of surprise. Smart men make sure their plan is rock solid.

Tripp hops down and comes to my side. We top off the tank then check the rig over while we burn up the few minutes for Danza and Boomer to follow in.

Once Danza pulls their little Toyota up to the pump behind the Chevy, they get out and stretch. Boomer, my bearded brother, is in an all black hoodie and jeans. I fight not to laugh at the red and yellow flannel shirt tucked into Danza’s jeans. His beanie covers his slicked back hair, and the long sleeves of his shirt keep his ink covered. The two men look like two rednecks on a road trip in a clown car, not two members of a badass MC.

We don’t make eye contact. We don’t nod. In fact, we don’t even acknowledge they are here. We walk into the gas station and pick up some snacks and drinks while the guy in the Chevy nervously finishes pumping gas.