SAVAGE ROAD - Layne & Shelby (4 page)

BOOK: SAVAGE ROAD - Layne & Shelby
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I grabbed towels from the bar and
stopped at the bathroom to grab antibacterial spray and some bandages.

I then took Layne to the empty
room.

When I stepped into the room behind
him, it was instantly hot. I was tense, nervous, turned on.

Layne went to the corner of the bed
and sat down. He looked at me.

Do
I owe you a tip for this?

I smiled.

Hardly. I

m
not a nurse.

I approached Layne with caution.

My focus had to be on his shoulder
and nothing else. And not just his shoulder or arm or whatever, but the open
wound. From where a bullet grazed and cut his hard flesh. That bullet could
have been a foot closer to Layne

s
body and he could have been dead right now.

I wiped up the blood running down
his arm. At the wound, I pressed and twisted.


Hurt?

I asked.

Layne looked up at me.

I always hurt, sweetie. Just
make it so I don

t have to
go to the hospital.


Don

t like doctors?


I
don

t like leaving my club.

I swallowed hard. I took the towel
away. The wound was nasty but shouldn

t
have caused any major damage. It was still bleeding. I folded the towel over
itself and put it back to the wound. I grabbed a bandage and used my one hand
and teeth to open the bandage.

I spit it down to the bed.


So

you

re

I guess the President?

I
asked.


Don

t have the patch yet,

Layne said.

But, yes, I am.


You
came down from the other place?


Brocke.
Yeah. I had to get out.


Had
to? Why?


You
like to ask questions. You a cop?

I froze up and shook my head.

No. I

I

m
just interested.

I paused.

Well, I mean in you. No,
wait. Not you, you. But

you being here
…”

I was fumbling, blushing, and felt
two inches tall.

I took the towel away from Layne

s shoulder again. I dropped it
to the floor and grabbed the bandage. Next, I took the antibacterial spray and
kept my eyes on Layne

s
shoulders.

Not his tattoos. Not his thick
and chiseled body. Not his damn eyes either.


This
is going to sting,

I said
and sprayed the wound.

Layne groaned for a second.

I put the bandage to his shoulder
and started to use medical tape to keep it in place.

We were in silence. I felt awkward,
like I had pushed too hard. Yeah, I wanted information, but not to sell to
anyone. Then again, how would Layne know that?


Hey,

he said.

These guys here

you ever think anything is off?


What
do you mean?

Layne stood up.

Nothing. Just hang behind the
bar. Or take the rest of the day and night off. I

ll
put the prospects behind the bar.


I
can

t. I need the money.


Why?


That

s personal.


I

m the President of the
clubhouse.

Layne inched at
me, forcing me back. I bumped into the empty dresser a few seconds later.

I control everything and
everyone inside it.


I

m struggling to survive,

I admitted.

Okay? I

m a little lost around here.


Drugs?
A kid? A guy taking your money?


No.
No. No.

Layne nodded.

Thanks for patching me up.

He stroked my cheek with the
back of his hand.

Not too
bad of a job at all.

After getting his leather cut,
Layne went to the door. He opened it and looked back at me.

When you

re done cleaning up the mess on the bed, get me a
cold beer.

Layne left the room.

I sighed, my body on fire.

Yes, sir

 

6.

 

(Layne)

 

I had to get the fuck out of the
bedroom. It was a dick move to leave a bloody towel and a mess for Shelby to
clean up. But I didn

t want
to be near her right now.

Shelby.

What a great name. Beautiful woman,
too.

She had another side to herself
that she didn

t want me to
know. I could see through it. She had secrets. Nobody wanted to be in a
clubhouse like this. Murder, assholes, drive by attacks, and a lot more shit in
the wings.

I didn

t have a second to think about a woman.

I looked at my shoulder and gritted
my teeth. I had been fucking shot at. I had been hit. The Mountain Killers knew
I was here, outside, and came to do something about it. The prospects must have
done some of their job, unless they were just terrible at shooting.

At the bar, I knocked and a
prospect jumped up where he was changing a keg.


Hey,

I said.

Get me some fucking clothes. My shit from Brocke is
coming up later today or tomorrow. Just grab me some black t-shirts and shit.


We
have Devil Call shirts
…”


Even
better. Get me a fucking shirt.

I turned and watched the clubhouse
start to fill up again.

When Finn came inside, I pointed to
him and waved him over to me. He was hesitant, hating that I was there. Nothing
like some good tension when there

s
people out there that wanted me dead.


Introduce
the main people,

I said.

I want to know names.


What
about our situation?

he
asked.


Alan
is gone,

I said.

And who did this

they

re going to fucking pay. I promise you.


When?


When
I say so.


That

s not good enough,

Finn said.

I

ve
been working on this for months. I

ve
been waiting and watching. If the Mountain Killers wanted you fucking dead,
Layne, you

d be dead right
now. That was a message. That was a warning.

I looked Finn dead in the eyes.

Then it only seems right that we
return the favor.


You
want to roll up on them?


They
started it,

I said with a
grin.


You

re not going to last a week up
here. You

ll either take
off or be killed.


Is
that a threat?


Maybe.


You
threaten the last President?

Finn poked a finger to my leather
cut.

Where

s your patch?

He turned and walked away.

He started to round up the guys as
I saw Shelby coming back to the bar. Listening so well, she grabbed a big, fat
glass and filled it with beer.

I reached into my pocket and took
out a couple dollars for her.

She put her hand to my mine.

You don

t. That

s
my rule.


I
don

t?

I asked.


You

re the President. You don

t have to pay for anything.


Anything,
huh?

Shelby started to blush and hurried
away.

Finn went through the group.

Brett and Hawke had helped cover
the main gate. I thanked them. Ransom, Bain, Rylan. Then Ax.

There were more, but I gave up
listening. I didn

t really
give a shit.


Tell
me about the Mountain Killers,

I said.


Shouldn

t we go into the room?

Brett asked.


No,

I said.

There

s
no President here, is there?

Nobody spoke. I gazed along the room.

Tell
me about them.


Mountain
Killers Motorcycle Club,

Finn said.

They stretch up
into Canada and east. Rough and tough kind of guys. Real dirtbag outlaws. They are
part of another club in Vegas. Group that ran from there down through Reno.
They were more or less for show. They work the streets calmly, love to drink,
fight, and fuck.


Who
doesn

t?

I asked.

A few of the guys let out some
whistles and cheered. I waved a hand to keep the room calm.

Finn wasn

t impressed.

Group
decided the freedom life wasn

t
free enough. So they bolted. Why they came all the way here? I don

t know. But they love to drink,
fight, and fuck. They love to kill. They love to steal. They love to do anything
they can to put themselves in the deepest trouble possible. That means rolling
up on our compound and firing. We used to have three dogs out there

now we don

t.

The room sounded like the wind got
knocked out it.


I

m sorry to hear that,

I said.

What about the old President up here?


Rex,

Hawke said.


Here!
Here!

the rest of the guys
yelled.

Finn folded his arms and stepped
out in front of everyone. Standing defiantly like he was the leader of Devil
Call up here.


We
lost him,

Finn said.

Literally lost him. I know the
Mountain Killers took him. But we could never

we could never get there. Get it figured out. And then, uh, we got his arm.


You
got his arm?

I asked.


They
threw his arm over the gate,

Ax said.

We knew it was
Rex

s because of the tats
and the rings on his fingers.


No
cut?


They
kept the cut,

Finn said.

But they had the President

s patch curled up in his hand.
Fucking with us, you know? Trying to push up. Tempt us. They hate us here
because we keep things in order. Like with Alan. You fuck around, you get hurt.
We work with the local sheriff

s
office and help out when we can.


Okay,

I said.

What about the people around here? They accept the
MC?


Hardly,

Bain said.

They fucking hate us here. They
associate us with crime.


That

s how it always goes.

I said.

I stopped at a bar and Pep was there.

Everyone laughed a little.


Pep,

Finn said.

Be careful with him. He

s a crazy old bastard. Loves his
gun.


I
stole it off him.


You
stole Pep

s gun?

Hawke asked.

And you

re still standing?


I
don

t take shit,

I said.

Get that right now. I don

t deal with it. Whether anyone likes it or not I
was sent up for a reason. We

re
going to stop the bullshit from getting around. We

re going to play by our rules and nobody else

s. That means going up and going
after the Mountain Killers.


You
can

t do that,

Bain called out.

That

s fucking suicide.

I stepped forward, beer in hand. I
walked toward Bain, staring him in the eyes.

The tension tripled. How the fuck
nobody else in the room could know what me and Finn knew was a joke. It meant
nobody was goddamn focused on the club or the purpose of the club.

Devil Call MC wasn

t just some guys in cuts. We
weren

t all the guys down
in Brocke either. We weren

t
all the guys in Oakville. Fuck, we had charters that went far away. Places that
nobody would think a MC could survive, but everyone played a role together to
make it so the entire club could survive.

One little kink in the chain wasn

t going to take us down.

But the idea of treason. Of fucking
with our mission.
Of fucking with me

My anger raged. I had gone through
hell in Brocke, fighting with my best friend. I almost had to kill him. Having
my heart shattered because my best friend killed my girlfriend. For good cause,
too. And then when I found love again, she wanted my best friend. The world had
revolved around Talon for a long time.

No more.

This was my fucking world. My
fucking rules.

And I stood there, looking at Bain.


Say
that again,

I whispered.

Look at me and say that again.

Bain

s
eyes shot left, right. Then back to me.


Nobody
else is here right now,

I
whispered.

Just you and
me, brother. Isn

t that
right?
Brother?
Is that what you are?


Jesus
Christ,

Bain said.

What the fuck is this?

When he asked the question, I was
put at a crossroads. I could either believe him or believe Finn. Both men I
didn

t give a shit about.
But I knew this

I came to
the clubhouse and it was a mess. They were getting ready to kill a man. I was
shot. Everyone was disorganized. The previous President went missing, except
his arm and his patch.

So something was going on.

Something needed to be done.

Crossroads
.

I took a drink from my beer. I
stepped back and then let out a breath. Life changing moments. Fuck, life
itself was nothing but life changing moments. That

s why it was life. Live, die, and then the shit in
between.

I brought the thick beer glass
forward and smashed it against Bain

s
head. It shattered and Bain fell back to the pool table, as shock and blood
spread across his face.

That

s
when he knew he was going to die.

 

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