CHAPTER THIRTEEN CLEANUP CREW

Brayden—

Now that the storm is gone, heat has settled in, making the cleanup work unbearable. My father and the boys left yesterday, and it was strange to see them ride away.

We’ve been working at the clubhouse and the surrounding neighborhood since early this morning and have a dumpster one of the guys was able to get delivered half-filled already with all the debris.

The quiet is marred by the loud chainsaws Marcus and Billy use to cut up the pine trees that fell across the fence from the abandoned house next door. The smaller pieces are being stacked against the fence that runs along the back alley for extra firewood. It’s backbreaking work hauling the cut logs.

“Hey, check this out.” Rafe holds a weathered photograph up.

I take it and study the image. It’s an old photo of the clubhouse with a bunch of members and other people I don’t recognize. Several pop-up tent canopies are dispersed. It definitely looks like some kind of cookout.

Kyle leans over my shoulder for a closer look.

I stop Griz as he returns from dragging a branch to the dumpster and hold the photo up. “Hey, Griz. What party was this?”

He studies it and grins, like he’s remembering a faraway time. “That’s back when we used to hold tailgates for Alabama football games. They played just down the road at Legion Field. That was before they added all those seats to Bryant Denny Stadium in Tuscaloosa. Those were some good times. The whole neighborhood would come hang out and grill.”

Other members wander over to check it out.

“Man, remember ol’ man Watkins? He used to make the best damn ribs I ever had. They would fall off the bone as you picked them up.” Heavy sucks his lips into his mouth, like he’s remembering the taste.

“Yeah, those were on point.” Griz slides the photo into his pocket. “Thanks for finding this.”

“No problem,” Rafe says, and he and Kyle return to dragging sections of the chain-link fence across the yard to the dumpster.

Gator drives his truck in.

“Hey, Gator. ‘Bout time you showed your ass up,” JJ calls out.

“Hey, I was loading up my grill so I could make your dumbasses some lunch.”

“Oh, well, in that case, I retract my statement.” JJ leans toward me. “He makes some damn good food.”

I’m still pissed at him over what he said to Rebel, so I just nod.

“Make sure you make enough to feed the neighbors,” Shades shouts across the yard. “Let me know if you need money to grab more meat.”

“Will do, Prez.”

We work all day, every day, for the next several weeks. Now, when we ride in, it looks more like a construction area than a war zone. All around, homes are being rebuilt slowly with our help. I don’t know what would have happened to these good folks if the club hadn’t been here to pitch in. A fact in which they seem all too aware.

My back and leg have been flaring up constantly, but with the help of heating pads and ice packs, I’ve managed to keep it hidden. Every night I head home to Rebel, and it feels so right. We can’t seem to keep our hands off each other when we’re together. And then we stay up late, telling each other everything from memories of our childhood to our hopes and dreams of the future, to our favorite ice cream flavors. Nothing is off limits. I soak in everything she tells me, like she’s a book I can’t stop reading.

But tonight, by the time we head to the motel, my back and leg are killing me. The usual heating pad and ice pack don’t seem to work. I take a hot shower, and it helps some. That and a couple aspirin.

When I walk out of the bathroom, TJ is sitting on the end of his bed, texting. He looks up when I walk out.

“Hurry up. We’re gonna go grab some food and a beer,” he says.

“I think I’m gonna hang here. I’m kind of tired.”

“You sure?” TJ lowers his phone and twists to look at me.

“Yeah, man. You go ahead.”

“Want me to bring you something?”

“Nah. I’m good.”

“Okay, then. I’m takin’ off. I’ll see ya later.” He goes out the door, and I fall on the bed. In about twenty minutes, I feel better and ring up Rebel.

“Hey, babe.”

“Hi, hon. What’s up?”

“Nothing. Just got done with another long day of cleanup. How’s it going at the garage?”

“The fix Hammer and Griz made right after the storm to the tracks and mechanism on the overhead doors has held up, but the glass pieces are still on back order.”

“How long did they say?”

“Could be the end of the month. Want to come over? The pizza place on Main reopened. We could have one delivered.”

“That sounds good.”

“Then come on. I’ll make the order.”

“Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

When I head over, the ride only aggravates me more. I’m stiff when I climb from the bike at her garage.

Rebel approaches, and her smile turns to a frown. “You hurt, baby?”

“Just my back acting up.”

“Aw, come inside, and I’ll give you a back rub.”

“God, I’d love that.” I drop my mouth to hers in a tender kiss.

As we turn toward the building, she wraps her arms around my waist, and my arm drops on her shoulder. I see the glass in the garage doors has been closed up with cardboard and duct tape, and I don’t like it. Anyone could take advantage of the situation and bust in, thinking there were tools inside worth stealing.

I point at it. “That’s not secure. Maybe you should stay with your mom and dad until it gets replaced.”

“I’ll be fine.”

Daisy runs over and puts her paws on my thigh, her tail wagging a mile a minute. I scratch her ears. “Do you have a gun?”

“Yes, why?”

“Do you know how to use it?”

“Of course.” Rebel cocks her head to the side. “You really think someone will break in?”

“I just want to know you’re safe.” I lift my chin to Daisy. “She’s not big enough to protect you yet.”

Rebel bites her lip and looks at the cardboard. “Maybe I’ll ask my father if I can bring one of his dogs over.”

“I’d feel better if you did. Has he been by to see the damage?”

“He came by before we fixed anything.”

I gesture to the cardboard. “So, he hasn’t seen this?”

“No.”

“You trust the club to tell him?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know that it’ll come up.”

“Maybe you should do it..”

“He’s got a lot on his plate right now.”

“Rebel, I can’t tell him. I’m not even supposed to be over here.”

“I know. Okay. I’ll mention it. Now, come on. The pizza’s here.”

I follow her up the stairs, the aroma making my stomach rumble and reminding me I haven’t eaten in hours.

The box is sitting on top of the counter next to a couple of plates. Rebel moves to the small refrigerator. “I’ve got cola, bottled water, and beer.”

“Beer sounds good.” I put a slice on each plate and carry them to the dining table, taking a seat.

Rebel follows with two long necks.

“It smells good.” I say, twisting off the cap.

“They’ve got awesome pizza.”

I take a big bite and moan around the mouthful. I lean in the chair, tired, and shift, trying to get some relief from the pain in my hip.

“Your back?” Rebel asks.

“My hip’s been bothering me, and I’ve got this pain going down my leg.”

“Lie on the bed and maybe I can stretch it out or massage it.”

“After we eat.” By then, I’m in enough discomfort that I take her up on her offer. I move to the bed, and she’s busy on her phone.

“It sounds like it could be sciatic nerve pain. I’m just reading what they say are good treatments. It says sitting a lot can cause the pain to worsen.” She meets my eyes. “You did a lot of riding getting out here.”

“Yeah. I have an old wrestling team injury. I thought maybe that’s what it was, but this feels different.”

“Was the injury spine related? They say it could be a slipped disc.”

“No.”

“It”s especially important to stretch your lower back, since that”s where something may pinch your sciatic nerve. We can also try a heating pad for fifteen to twenty minutes. Otherwise, we may need to see a doctor. It says muscle relaxants can help or a shot of steroid medication into your spine.”

“Ouch.”

She smiles at my reaction and goes back to reading her phone. “Oh, here’s a good one, and I know someone who does this stuff.”

“What’s that?”

“Acupuncture.”

I lift a brow. “Sticking a bunch of needles into me? No thanks.”

“Well, Yoga is also good, as long as it emphasizes stretching. I know some moves I could help you with.”

“How about we start with the massage?”

“Then we’re doing some stretching, mister.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

She gives me a long massage, working both my shoulders, neck, spine, and hips, and I feel better, my tight muscles finally relaxing. After that, we do the stretching exercises. They’re uncomfortable, but I can see how they might help, especially given some time.