CHAPTER ELEVEN TROUBLE ON THE HORIZON

Brayden—

My phone vibrates, and I pick it up off the bedside table and read the text.

TJ: Where are you, bro?

Me: I met a girl when I was out with Blood last night.

TJ: Okay, Romeo. There’s a meeting at the clubhouse at 2pm. We’re gonna talk about the Tennessee takeover. Don’t miss it.

“I’ve got to head out. There’s a meeting at the clubhouse.” I twist my head on the pillow to look at Rebel.

She rolls on top of me. “I don’t want you to go.”

“Hell, sweetheart, last thing I want to do is walk out that door.” I stroke her bare back.

“Will I see you again before you leave tomorrow?”

“I don’t know if I can slip away, but I’m gonna try. If I can’t, will you see me off?”

“Will you leave out of the clubhouse or the motel?”

“I don’t know yet.” I thread my fingers through the silky hair at her nape and pull her mouth to mine. I love the way her kisses are full of passion.

The clock is ticking and I’ve got to get across town, so I reluctantly end the kiss. Tucking a strand of hair behind Rebel’s ear, I press my forehead to hers. “Damn, this sucks.” I take a deep breath. “Tell me to go.”

“I don’t want you to.”

“If you don’t, I’m not going to be able to leave this bed with your soft, sexy body in it, walk down those stairs, climb on that bike, and ride away.” I kiss her again.

“Then don’t.”

“I wish it was that easy. You know that, right?”

She nods, but seems too sad for words. Instead, she rests her cheek on my chest.

I stroke her back and whisper against her forehead. “You gonna come see me, babe?”

“Try and stop me.”

That makes me smile. “Promise?”

“I promise.”

Ten minutes later, I’m dressed and we’re downstairs. She hits a button, and the garage doors roll up.

I hook my arm around her shoulders and turn her toward my bike. When we reach it, we kiss again, and she wraps her arms around me, burying her face in my neck.

The wind picks up, and I see storm clouds on the darkening horizon.

“I’m glad I met you. I’m glad you walked into my garage,” she murmurs.

I set my cheek on the top of her head. “Me, too, darlin’. Me, too.” We stand there, holding each other for a moment. I want to stay this way, but I know I have to go. “I’ll call you later.”

She brushes a tear from her cheek. I lift her hand and press a soft kiss to the palm, then step back, dropping it at the last moment to swing my leg over the seat, lift the bike off its kickstand, and fire it up. I pull out, unable to bear dragging this out another moment.

I roar down the highway, and every mile tears at my heart. There’s no guarantee we’ll get to see each other before I leave, but I’m gonna try like hell.

When I arrive at the motel, the club is already gone. I see I have a text from TJ saying they headed to the clubhouse. Checking the time, I’ve got an hour before the meeting starts, so I grab a quick shower and change clothes. On the way out the door, I see TJ’s pack is in the corner, ready to go. Just the sight of it makes me realize how short the time I have left in this town really is.

When I get to the clubhouse, guys are already heading into the meeting room. We’re invited because of the topic.

Shades slams down his gavel, and the room quiets. “We’re here to talk about Tennessee. Word is the Head Bashers were run out by a new club called the Sin Squad. Ghost, you get any information on them?”

“None of the big clubs have heard of them. I checked with our contacts at the Devil Kings, and they checked with a contact they have at the Death Heads. Neither of them have heard about these guys.”

My father lifts his hand, and Shades acknowledges him.

“Our contact in the San José PD was able to run the club’s name. Seems there were some arrests in Minnesota in the last three months. He thinks they may be a club out of Canada trying to make a move into the US.”

“He tell you the charges?” Shades asks.

“Meth. They were making it at two locations.”

Shades leans in his chair, the leather creaking. “You think they’re setting up labs?”

“That’d be my guess,” my father replies. “You think they’re going to make a move into Alabama?”

“Possibly.”

“You gonna be ready for ‘em?”

Undertaker clears his throat. “They do, you’ll have the New Orleans chapter at your back.”

“Absolutely,” Blood seconds.

Shades shifts his gaze to them. “Thanks, brothers.”

Cole leans on his elbows. “We avoided Memphis on the way in because we didn’t know what we’d be dealing with.”

Shades nods. “You may want to do the same on the way back. Memphis is a haul from here if you were to need backup.”

My father nods.

Blood folds his arms. “Maybe we should take a ride up to Tennessee while we’re in town. See what’s going on.”

Shades stares at the table, as if considering it. “I may send some guys up there, fly below the radar. Check out our new neighbors.”

A large boom of thunder shakes the building.

“Christ,” I mutter, and we all jump.

“Have you checked the weather?” Shades asks Ghost, who is already pulling it up on his phone.

“We’re under a tornado watch until midnight. Radar looks like the storm front is getting close. Damaging winds and possible hail.”

Cole looks at Crash. “This may delay us.”

“You better head to the motel before you get stuck here.” Shades looks at my father, then slams down the gavel. “Meeting adjourned.”

We file out, move down the hall, and head into the main room. Since this is a house, albeit a big two-story frame one, it’s small compared to our clubhouse in Cali.

One of the men moves to the door and opens it. The wind is blowing strong, and branches and leaves are flying. We all move into the yard and check the sky. It’s not raining yet, but it could start soon.

Crash looks at my father. “If we’re goin’, we better go now.”

“Yeah.” Cole scratches his beard, studying the sky. “It looks clear to the east. And at least the motel is brick, and there’s that covered breezeway between the buildings where the laundry and ice machine are located. We can probably squeeze the bikes under there in case there’s hail with this storm. I think we can make it. Let’s haul ass, boys.”

With that, we all hustle to our bikes and roar out. The New Orleans, Oregon, Missouri and Nevada chapters follow us. We make it to the interstate and race, trying to stay ahead of the storm. The skies behind us are churning dark clouds, but the sky ahead is clear.

We make it to the motel just in time and roll our bikes under the covered breezeway as the rain begins to pelt us. We squeeze them all in and head to our rooms, taking most of the motel’s fifty room capacity.

TJ stands in the doorway watching the skies, then moves off a few steps under the covered walkway to where my father and Daytona, president of the Las Vegas chapter, stand.

I flip on the television and find a local channel. A weatherman in suspenders, his shirt sleeves rolled up, stands in front of the radar map. Red polygons outline sections on the map. He points to area of confirmed circulation, then draws out a pathway marking towns and times of impact. He names specific landmarks like restaurants and gas stations, like he’s personally traveled every inch of his coverage area.

I walk to the doorway and lean out, spotting TJ, my father, and the other club presidents. “Hey, they’ve got several confirmed tornados.”

“TJ, tell the others,” Cole snaps. “Everyone, get inside.”

I return to the room, drop to the bed, and call Rebel.

She picks up after two rings.

“It’s getting bad. You at the garage?”

“Yes. It’s pouring here.”

“Here, too. There are two confirmed tornados they’re tracking on the radar. You got someplace safe to take shelter?”

“I guess downstairs in the storage room, or maybe the oil change pit.”

“At least that garage is a cinderblock building.”

“Yes, I should be fine. Are you at the clubhouse?”

“Nah. We just raced down the highway. We made it to the motel just before the bottom dropped out.”

“Is my father still at the clubhouse?” She sounds concerned.

“He was when we left.”

A new tornado warning banner flashes across the screen, and I reach for the remote and turn up the volume.

“We see a new rotation here moving up along I20 from McCalla toward Bessemer. Midfield, Fairfield, and Ensley, you should take immediate cover. That’s the lowest interior room, away from windows. Strap on a helmet if you have one.”

“Babe, they just said Ensley. Isn’t that the name of the neighborhood where the clubhouse is located?”

“Yes. Oh, God. I have to call my father.”

Tornado sirens wail in the distance. “The sirens are going off here.”

“I need to call my dad.”

I study the radar map. “Babe, there’s another rotation south of town in Alabaster.”

“That’s near Pelham.”

“Get downstairs now and take shelter. You got a helmet there?”

“Yes.”

“Put it on.”

“Okay, but I have to call my father.”

“Not until after you get downstairs.” Fear for her skates down my spine.

“Oh, God. Brayden, the sirens are going off.”

“Get downstairs, Rebel. Now,” I bark.

The phone goes dead, and I yell into it. “Rebel?”