Tangled Threats on the Nomad Highway Page 12

  “Even when he sent the message, I didn’t give it enough weight. He’d gone after previous members before, no matter if they’d gone out good or were out bad. Status didn’t matter. To him, they were traitors. I told you about what he’d said and gave you my evaluation of the threat to the club, but I discounted what it might mean for my family.” Angling his face to the side, he stared at the boot-churned ground, not finding any refuge there. “He was cold. So fuckin’ cold, and didn’t give a fat shit about anyone but himself. I shoulda been more careful.” Lifting a hand, he scrubbed it across his cheeks, surprised to find the skin dry. “I feel like it’s on me as much as him. But that doesn’t change my need. He’s got to pay.”

  “That’s the kind of introspection I can get behind. I don’t agree with everything you just said, but I see where it might weave that story in your head. Understand, this is why you’ve got to talk to us, brother. You get inside your head and fuck up your mind, and we—me and Mudd at least—we can help you unfuck that shit. Scar took you and your family. It’s his actions that caused Lauren and Makayla to be where they were, and ultimately what happened is on him, not you. Not you. Fuck no, not you.” Retro laughed, the anguished sound causing Einstein to look into the man’s eyes. There was no recrimination there, no hard dismissal. “You got to get with the program, find a way to believe in what I believe. Then, if we can keep movin’ forward like this, you’ll be okay.”

  Mudd shuffled closer. “None of us gave his message the weight it needed. It was positioned as a cry for help from a club’s president and something entirely unheard of for the man Scar had always shown himself to be. Why would we believe a lick of it, knowing the kind of hard-ass shit he’d pulled in the past? No.” Mudd shook his head. “I still trust in our process. We digested, pulled it apart and put it back together, and came up with a logical thesis for the situation. That means between the time he messaged and when he showed up in your house, something changed. He wasn’t there right away, wasn’t there even a week later. Whatever it was, it took a while to set things in motion. Maybe that needs to be the first thing you look for, to find that trigger, see what knocked him loose from his mooring and aimed him your way.”

  “Good thoughts,” Retro agreed, straightening his shoulders. “I’d be all over it, but I trust Einstein to know his path.” He leaned closer, tip of his index finger thudding against Einstein’s sternum in an insistent beat. “I also trust your ass to check in like I tell you to, and if you don’t, then I’ll haul your ass back home. No in-between bullshit. You do it my way, or you’ll be on the highway back to where I can kick said ass.”

  “You’re—” Einstein wasn’t sure what he wanted to ask.

  “Yes.” Fortunately, Retro didn’t have any trouble reading him. “Yeah, brother. I told you I’d do whatever you needed. Did you think so little of me to believe I’d lie about something like that?”

  “Bastards haven’t had a nomad before.” His grin broke free, and he worked on taming it back. It couldn’t hurt to show how much it meant, but wouldn’t bode well if he looked like he’d lost his mind. I probably look worse than Crazy Mike on a three-day bender. “You always said that wasn’t in the cards. That you wanted to keep things close to home.”

  “Well, it’s high time we got with the program, then. All these clubs here have managed to do it and survive. Yet, here I am, ass hangin’ out and suckin’ hind tit, because you slackers never forced me to up my game.” Retro’s easygoing expression said he wasn’t serious. “Y’all are assholes. Alla y’all.”

  “Maybe.” Mudd’s chuckle broke the word into pieces, but the laughter also let them slip effortlessly into place. “Not like we would front that shit, man. You’ve got to be more self-aware than that.”

  “Come on,” Retro urged, flicking his finger against Einstein’s chest a final time. “Let’s go do a meet and greet with the man of the hour. Never seen Blackie as high on anyone except Horse, and you know I like that man. I fielded a few requests from him through the years, ran the first couple past Blackie to ensure the veracity of the request. He was always on the up and up. From where I sit, Blackie’s a good judge of character and reads people nearly as quickly as Mudd here does. If he’s not only vouching for him but putting him forward to lead an expansion chapter two states from home, then this dude is someone worth getting to know.”

  “What happened to this being an RWMC chapter? That’d been all I’d heard talked about, and then all of a sudden, the tide changed. Got ideas on that?” He followed Retro, only a stride behind him, able to hear his words without straining.

  “Not sure who fronted the idea to begin with. Seen more posturing in the past two days than at many a formal sit-down. Even before Bane rolled in, he’d been pulled hither and yon without his knowledge, everybody wantin’ him in their corner. Says a lot about him and also about the placement of Baker in general. Great stopping-off point for back-and-forth traffic, and a welcoming community is always a good thing. Bane rolled in asking for what you have, wanted to go nomad, rule the area in opposition to Truck’s longtime residency. Should have been a slam dunk, except that left the territory up for grabs.” Retro slowed his long strides, and Einstein matched his pace, knowing the shift would allow the delivery of the full story before they gained the group of men tens of yards away.

  “Blackie was the naysayer, touting a variety of reasons, but the most compelling was his desire to plant his flag here. There was some wavering between FRMC and their support group, the Iron Riggers.” Retro lifted a finger. “Remember that name; it’ll come into play again in a minute. Once Blackie had said it straight out, first Mason, then Twisted and Wrench backed the idea of rolling up a direct charter as opposed to a support group that wouldn’t be welcoming to big boys like Truck and Gunny. Skyd, president of the Iron Riggers, was more than down for Blackie’s backtracking to the FRMC charter idea, and I don’t blame him. Rolling up a chapter here would have stretched his resources thin, being a smaller support club to begin with. We also found out Mason’s Rebels were looking to patch over the IRMC, something that was guaranteed to have pissed off Blackie. If they’d spun up a charter here, Mason would have just gobbled them up faster. So this, as it shakes out, is a win-win all around.” Retro lifted a hand as someone called his name. “And that’s you being up to speed, much as I can get you in ten-point-two seconds.”

  Einstein laughed as they stopped near a large group of men, the ring expanding to include their three. He grinned and acknowledged faces he knew, nodding at those he didn’t when they were introduced. A lot of men he’d never seen before, and he worked to commit names and associations to memory, expecting a quiz from Mudd later. That’s just how we work. It struck him then, how going nomad would remove him from this kind of exchange. One where he had faith in his patch brothers and knew they were backing him up.

  Doesn’t matter.

  Scar needed to be brought down. No matter where he’d run to, Einstein would find him. Find him and deal. Didn’t matter what the end looked like, as long as things came to an end.

  ***

  “No, no. That’s not how it was.” Gunny’s disappointment was clear as he argued against something Mason had said. “Jesus, Prez, you can’t tell a story worth shit.”

  “That’s because I tell the truth, not a story.” Mason’s chuckle was low and quiet, matching the mood of the men surrounding the dying bonfire.

  Blackie and Mason had set men to building the beginning of a formal campground in a small field between two houses. The path connecting the two homes had been freshly cleared, chopped bits of brambles and stinkweed scattered across the track. A second, shorter path wound between trees to this field, which was backed by a creek. Bikes had been wheeled into the area, kickstands blocked up with pieces of wood and rock to keep them from sinking into the soft ground. A score of tents lined the field, with most of the people who’d arrived today opting to stay on site after hearing from yesterday’s arrivals that the local motels were all full.
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br />   Retro had laughed about this turning into a mini-rally, likening it to the kind of ragtag gatherings he’d attended decades ago. Blackie had stared at Truck, the two men immediately moving to the side with their heads together, and Einstein assumed the gathering would become an annual event. Birth of something new, right here.

  He was glad everyone seemed pleased by all that had happened today, because from his side of things, it had been a bust. Bane didn’t know anything about his blood brother over the past several years, having pretty much avoided him like the plague. Their shared parentage didn’t mean a lot, with Scar sticking to the Italian side of things and Bane more open to exploring his mother’s heritage. He claimed his trek up to Montana had been an attempt to find family there, but something in his stories just didn’t ring true for Einstein. More there to check up on, for sure.

  A pause in the conversations pulled him from his thoughts, and he watched as Gunny stepped around the fire to stand over Horse. The look on Gunny’s face wasn’t humorous, and the tense way he loomed shouted he was seconds away from dealing with whatever had pissed him off. Horse had his hands up in a defensive posture, but he wasn’t trying to get away, wasn’t even trying to get off the log he sat on, and the way he gave all the power in the exchange to Gunny said he understood clearly that there were only moments left to stop what could be a bloody encounter.

  “Gunny, stand the fuck down. Don’t do this, man.” Mason’s voice cut through the low chatter. “Man didn’t mean anything by it.”

  “She’s not the topic of your fuckin’ jokes.” Gunny leaned closer. “Not now, and not ever.”

  “I get it.”

  “No, you don’t. You didn’t see her, man. Didn’t see the way she cowered but accepted that she’d probably been sold to me and Bane. Her eyes gave everything away. She’d come to believe that everybody was a threat, but we weren’t gonna be one she could fight against.” His hand rose, finger and thumb a fraction of an inch apart. “She was this close to giving up. This fuckin’ close, man. We brought her back from that. If she’s going to come out of this a winner, she doesn’t need people around her who are gonna keep tearin’ her down.”

  “It’s not tearing her down to say I find her attractive.” Horse’s head went side to side in negation. “Fuck, man. You’re taking things entirely the wrong way.”

  “How should I take it, you sayin’ she’ll be too much trouble for any man, being as she’s so damaged? How should I take it, asshole?” Muscles bunching in Gunny’s arms illustrated what Einstein couldn’t see—the big man was clenching his fists, hard. “How should I take those words?”

  “I didn’t say she’d be too much trouble. I just said a man would need to know what he had on his hands, that’s all.” Expression telegraphing he’d had enough, Horse jackknifed up from the log, standing close enough his chest brushed Gunny’s. “I was talkin’ about myself, you fucking dick. Thinkin’ out loud, because I can’t get her out of my head.”

  “What’d you say to her last night? She ran from you, got into the house still lookin’ over her shoulder. Ratcheted her up big-time, you apparently bein’ an asshole.” Gunny leaned harder into the contact with the other man. “What’d you say to her?”

  “Told her the truth. She was lookin’ at you like you hung the moon. Didn’t want her getting partway down a path that didn’t have a good end for her, so I reminded her you were married.” Horse sneered. “Big man. You always gotta play the hero, doncha?”

  “The fuck is that supposed to mean?”

  Mason moved in behind Gunny and gripped his shoulder, a hold Gunny shrugged off, only settling slightly when Mason’s hand insistently returned to the same position. Einstein could see how deep Mason’s thumb dug, and knew the man was using a painful grip to settle his officer. He glanced at the patch on the vest and revised his mental assessment at the reminder of today’s proceedings. His previous officer.

  Sure enough, Bane was on his way and wedged himself between Gunny and Horse, forcing both men back on their heels. “Back the fuck off, brother.” Face pushing into Gunny’s space, Bane snarled the demand. “Right now.”

  “You want to be her hero, Horse? Don’t act like an ass.” Even as he took a step backwards, Gunny shouted over Bane’s shoulder, “Don’t assume you know anything about this thing between her and me. Something my old lady not only knows all about but is entirely in favor of, seeing Marian like a sister.” Gunny whirled and glared across the fire. “Old man, you need to have better taste in your goddamned officers.”

  “Now, no need to denigrate your president that way, big man.” Blackie didn’t shift from where he sat in a folding camp chair, a bottle of beer tucked into a mesh holder built into the armrest. “He’s gone from a chapter officer to a new charter president, so you might want to watch your mouth.”

  “You see Marian’s face today? See her for more than a half a minute, unless you went to Bane and Myrt’s house? No, you didn’t, and I suspect it’s because she was afraid she’d run into that”—he flung a hand out behind him, middle finger extended to point at Horse—“asshole.”

  “Woman’s choice. Nobody made her stay away from the festivities.” Blackie leaned back, kicking both feet out in front of him as he angled one ankle over the other. “Maybe she likes takin’ care of kids like she was. You talk to her and ask her what was goin’ on? No, you didn’t. I don’t even need you to answer me. Get your head out of your ass and listen to Horse, and you’ll hear a different tune than the one you put inside your own head. Fuck, Bane, you got your work cut out for you.” Blackie didn’t miss a beat as he turned his face from Gunny to Bane, then to Mason. “And you? You’re a far more tolerant fella than I thought.”

  “Horse.” Truck’s voice was cutting as he projected it across the firepit. “What was your intent when you told the girl what you did?”

  Einstein noted lines of stress around the older man’s upper face. The beard made it easy to hide any tension around his jaw and mouth, but the tightened muscles of his forehead and eyes made it clear as any beacon that the answer to this question meant something to the man. He swung his gaze to Horse and noted the same markers. Both men had some kind of stake in this conversation, and it was more than just Gunny’s physical challenge.

  “Marian’s had so much shit in her life, she deserves something good. Way she is with Gunny, I was afraid she’d latched on to him in an unhealthy way. I didn’t want her to get more hurt if she followed a route that wouldn’t end well.” Horse stepped towards the fire and held out his hands as if cold suddenly. “She’d had a kind of anxiety attack in the woods. Everybody looking at her, and with the darkness, she couldn’t get away. Her face, man. She was genuinely terrified but pulled it together and kept walking. That’s a woman with some strength inside her. Then she looked at Gunny, and it was like all the fight went away. Marian’s gonna need that strength. Gonna need all the fight she can get, digging her way out of the things her family did to her.”

  “You want me to believe you had her best interests at heart when you went at her that way?” Gunny’s anger hadn’t flagged; his shout was sharp and vicious.

  “Fuck, man. I didn’t go at her. I went gentle, aimed for sweet.” Horse didn’t look away from the fire. “And yeah, I only want good things for her.”

  “What the fuck are we fighting for then? That’s all I wanted to hear. You started off like she’s the butt of some damn joke in your head, and I wanted to set you straight. All you had to do was say so, man.” Laughter burst forth from every man around the fire, and Gunny’s head swung side to side as he looked at every face. “What?”

  His confusion was clear, and Einstein took pity on him. “You went about it bass-ackwards. Shoulda started with a less confrontational tone.” He glanced at Blackie. “Gotta say, you’ve groomed two very levelheaded officers, brother. Well done.”

  “I work with what God gives me. Trust me, not alla my men are capable of the same.” Blackie put a hand beside his mouth as he lowered hi
s voice, pretending to whisper. “That’s why they’re not here. Can’t really take ’em out in public. These two are the cream of the crop, and I’m fuckin’ proud of them.”

  “Are you sayin’ I shouldn’t be out in public?” Gunny dropped into the chair he’d abandoned to tackle Horse. “I’m wounded, old man.”

  “Call ’em like I see ’em.”

  “As do I,” Truck piped up. “Hey, Einstein, I didn’t see a sleeping roll on your bike. You set for somewhere to lay your head?”

  “I hadn’t expected the hotels to be all full up. I’ll figure something out. I got a tarp, keep the worst of the dew off me.” Unfolding his arms from around his knees, he propped them behind him, leaning backwards as he stretched out his legs. “Sleeping rough isn’t a big deal. No worries.”

  “There’s a couch downstairs. Be more comfortable than rough.” Bane pointed at the second house, the one Einstein hadn’t yet visited. “Feels weird inviting you into a house that ain’t mine, but needs must, right, man?”

  “I’d appreciate it. Like I said, I hadn’t prepared for not having a cot.” He yawned, then watched as a dozen men around the fire followed suit. “Would you mind if I headed over soon? Need to text your old lady and let her know you’ll have a guest?” The women who’d been with the group had retired hours ago, Myrtle among them.

  “Yeah, I’ll do that, but you go on soon as you want. There’s a closet under the stairs with blankets. Grab one if you need it. Boys slept in decently this morning, even in a new place with new beds, so hopefully nobody’ll bug you too early.” Bane pulled out his phone. “Sweetheart,” he cooed into it as soon as he lifted it to his head. “We’re going to have a visitor crash out on the couch tonight. Just wanted to give you a heads-up in case you hear him come in. Good guy.” Head angling down, Bane grinned. “Yeah, one of Retro’s men, that’s right. Good girl.”

  “Man, he’s got it bad.” Mudd’s whisper was awed, not mocking, and Einstein nodded in agreement.