CHAPTER EIGHTEEN FREE TIME

Brayden—

My alarm goes off at 7:00 am, and I drag a tired hand down my face. Fuck, I’ve got to get to the clubhouse for another day of work. Leaning on an elbow, I grab my phone and shut the alarm off, then drop to my back.

A second later, it vibrates with a text. I groan, grab it again, and squint at the screen.

TJ: Where you at? With that chick again?

ME: Yeah. Just getting up and heading that way.

TJ: Don’t bother. Just got word Shades is giving us the day off.

ME: Why?

TJ: Who cares? Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

ME: What the fuck does that mean?

TJ: Just be thankful, fool.

ME: Seems odd he’d give us a day off. Maybe he knows we’re all exhausted.

TJ: Roofers are coming today, and we’ll just be in the way.

ME: I knew there had to be a reason.

TJ: Yup. See ya later.

I look over and see Rebel watching me.

“What’s up?”

“Your father just gave us the day off.”

“Really?” She sits up, suddenly a big smile lighting her face. “Maybe I could close the shop, and we can spend the day together.”

“I like the way you think.”

“We could take a little road trip.”

“I’m up for that. Where do you want to go?”

“I know the perfect place, but it’s a few hours” ride.”

“Anywhere you want to go, babe, is fine with me. Just being with you is enough.”

“Yay. Come on, let’s get dressed.” She jumps to her feet. “I haven’t been this excited in a long time.”

“First, we shower together.” I snag her hand, pull her to me, and hoist her over my shoulder. She squeals as I carry her to the bathroom.

Once we’re under the hot, steaming spray and I’m soaping up her body, she forgives me.

I play with her beautiful breasts to my leisure, then toy with her pussy, swirling my fingertips around and around until she’s writhing and quivering with need.

I spin her to the wall, and she puts her hands high, going up on her toes and thrusting her sexy, firm ass out for me. Taking my hard dick in my hand, I thrust it in her waiting, wet pussy, then hook my arm around her waist and drive into her, my palm on the tile above her head. I fuck her hard, and it’s incredible. I can’t get enough of this woman.

She presses against me, eager for everything I give her. I smack her ass cheek. “Prettiest ass I’ve ever seen.”

In response, she clamps her pussy around my dick, and I groan.

“Fuck, yes.” I place my hands on her hips and pound into her, coming long and hard. When I’m sated, I curve my body around her, and press my forehead to the nape of her neck, my breathing sawing in and out of me. “Best ever,” I whisper.

She spins in my arms and kisses me, her arms going around my neck, and her soft body against mine. I hold her as the hot water pours over us and the room fills with steam.

Much later, once we’re dried off and dressed,we take my bike, and it’s the first time I’ve got Rebel on the back with me. The moment her arms wrap around me, it feels right, and I know I want this girl with me forever.

“Head up I65 to Birmingham, and we’ll pick up highway 59 northeast to Lookout Mountain.”

“Where’s that?”

“Georgia. It’s about two hours. Is that okay?”

“Sure.” I know we’re good with the Devil Kings of Georgia, so it shouldn’t be a problem.

It’s a nice ride, and the countryside is beautiful. It feels freeing having the day to ourselves with no one to answer to at all. The weather is perfect for riding, and the two hours pass in no time at all.

We visit all the tourist things there are to do, and then Rebel tells me we absolutely have to take a ride on the Incline Railway.

“Where’s that?” I ask.

“Just a few miles up the road.”

We return to the bikes and head down the highway. Before we arrive, we cross the Stateline into Tennessee, and everything that old man warned us about the new club in the state runs through my mind. But that was Memphis; we’re clear across the state near Chattanooga. The chance of us running into any is slim to nil, especially in a tourist trap like this. Still, uneasiness runs down my spine, and I remind myself to keep an eye out. Hopefully, we ride the railway, and we’re in and out. So, I let myself relax and enjoy the day with Rebel.

We find the place, park the bike, and I stuff my cut in my saddlebag, then take Rebel’s hand in mine and get in line to buy tickets. They run every half hour, so the wait isn’t long, and soon we see the iconic red and yellow car coming down the hill. Climbing on, we take our seats. The roof is glass topped, giving us an amazing view as we climb higher and higher toward the summit. Once we make it to the top and get off at the viewing platform, we can see for miles, taking in all of Chattanooga and the surrounding countryside.

“This is nice,” I say, leaning my elbows on the iron fence. “We got lucky with a clear day.”

“It’s nice just being with you,” Rebel says and wraps her arms around me, laying her chin on my shoulder. I turn my head and kiss her cheek.

“You’ve been here before, huh?”

“My parents used to bring me up here.”

“It’s special to you?”

“I suppose it is.”

Twisting in her arms, I cup her face and kiss her lips. “Then I’m glad I got to see it with you. Let’s get a selfie.” I dig in my pocket for my phone, and we turn our backs to the view.

I get a good shot of the two of us.

When we make the return trip and get to the bottom, Rebel tugs on my hand and points to the ice cream shop. “Let’s get an ice cream.”

I can’t say no to this girl. “Sure, babe.”

We get our order, and we’re sitting at a table by the window when I hear the unmistakable sound of motorcycles. Four bikes slow to make the turn into the parking lot. As they turn, I get a clear shot of the back of their cuts.

“Goddamn it,” I whisper.

“What is it?” Rebel asks. “Who are they?”

“The Sin Squad. A new club that just took over this state. Word is they drove out the Head Bashers MC.”

“You’re kidding.”

“Nope.”

As we watch, the four of them dismount. Two of them have girls on the back. The men slow when they walk past my bike, checking it out, and I pray they don’t see the three skulls airbrushed on the gas tank or recognize which club that is. They seem more interested in the California plate than anything else.

If they put together that’s my bike or that I’m with the Evil Dead, they’ve got me outnumbered four-to-one.

“How far is the state line?” I ask Rebel.

“Not far.”

I pull it up on my map app. If we don’t go back the way we came but just head straight south on the road that runs right past this place, it’s a straight shot to the state line. I check the distance. “It’s just under two miles.”

As I watch, one guy pulls his phone out and makes a call, still staring at my bike, then looking around the area, like he’s trying to spot the rider.

My colors are stuffed in the saddlebag, and I can only pray they don’t get really daring and look inside. There are a lot of tourists around, though, and I wonder how far they’ll go. There’s no telling when a group has the balls to run off a club like the Head Bashers.

The nearest help would be the Devil Kings in Georgia. We’ve got a truce with them, but I don’t know if that means they’d get involved.

They’re still standing by my bike, and I wonder if they’re waiting for me to return.

One of the chicks tugs on her ol’ man’s hand, nodding toward the ice cream shop.

“Shit. They’re coming in here.” I tug the sleeves on my thermal shirt to cover my club tattoos and glance around for an exit. I spot one on the opposite side from where they’re headed and grab Rebel’s hand. “Come on. Quick.”

We make it out the door and go around the back of the building. There are a lot of buildings out on the street, but in this section near the railway there’s only the ticket booth, gift shop, and ice cream place.

“Come on.” We duck inside the gift shop and pretend to check things out, while I keep an eye out the window. From here, I can’t see as well. Sure, I’m not wearing my cut, but I’ve got biker boots on, and though my ink is covered, I can’t hide the fact that I look like that bike may belong to me.

“What do we do?”

I consider the options. “The minute we head to the bike, there could be a world of trouble for us.”

“I can ride it. Dad taught me. You think if I approach and climb on, they’ll back away?”

“I don’t know. That’s the problem. I’m sure as fuck not putting you in danger to find out.”

“We need a distraction,” Rebel mutters, biting her lip. Then she pulls her phone out.

“What are you doing?”

“She holds her finger up, shushing me.”

I hear the voice on the other end. “911, what’s your emergency?”

“There are some bikers blocking me from getting to my car, and they’re scaring my children. I’m at the Incline Railway. Please send someone.”

She clicks off, not giving any further information.

“We don’t call the cops, Rebel. You know that.”

“I’m not in the club, though, am I? You wanted a distraction. They’re about to be distracted. That or they’re about to take off.”

Crap. I shoot off a text to Blood.

ME: You know anyone in the Devil Kings?

BLOOD: Why?

ME: I’m up in Chattanooga with Rebel. She wanted to show me Lookout Mountain. Four of the Sin Squad just surrounded my bike parked out in a parking lot. It’s about a two-mile run to the Georgia state line. Might need some backup.

BLOOD: Jesus Christ, kid. When you screw up, you go all out. Give me a minute.

Rebel turns my phone to see the message. “Now what?”

“We wait.”

Two county sheriff’s cars roll up, lights flashing, and the Sin Squad MC takes off down the road. All except the guy in the ice cream shop and his ol’ lady.

It’s about ten long minutes before my phone rings.

“Yeah?” I put it to my ear.

“You in a safe place at the moment?”

“Yeah.”

“DKs will be in position at the border in about fifteen minutes. Think you can make a run for it?”

“I think so.”

“Good. By the way, Shades will be waiting for you at the clubhouse.”

“Great.”

“You fucked up, son. Time to pay the piper.”

“Yeah.”

“Be careful.”

When I disconnect, Rebel meets my gaze. “What’d he say?”

“DKs will be waiting at the state line in fifteen minutes in case we have trouble.”

“And?”

“And your father will be waiting for us at the clubhouse.”

“Oh my God. He’s gonna flip.”

I take her face in my hands. “Then we’ll deal with it.”

She nods, and I drag her to me for a kiss.

“I love you,” she murmurs. “You’re worth any trouble it causes with my father.”

“You sure about that?” I ask with a smile.

“Yes. Am I worth the trouble?”

“Absolutely.” I kiss her again. “You ready?”

Rebel nods.

“Let’s go.” I take her hand, and we walk out of the gift shop and skirt around the ice cream place, mixing in with a group of tourists who are laughing and talking about the ride. We cross the street and head into the parking lot, still with the group.

I lead Rebel past my bike, and when I glance over at it, I’m half surprised there’s not a knife in the tire. We keep walking with the group, then break off to dart between some cars, and double back. Hunching low next to my saddlebag, I pull out my cut and slip it on. Club rules are club rules, and I don’t ride without it. I climb on, and Rebel scurries on behind me. Once her arms are tight around me, I fire the bike up and roar out of the lot.

The two in the ice cream shop emerge as we ride past, and the lone Sin Squad member has his phone to his ear. I hear him scream something and point at me. I flip him off and haul ass. In the distance, I hear the roar of his brothers’ bikes.

I shoot down the road, blowing through stop signs. The Sin Squad appears in my side mirror, coming up fast. There’s traffic ahead, slowed by a bucket truck with a crew fixing power lines. I blast past them on the left, the flag waver yelling at me, but I keep going. Nothing is going to stop me from getting across that state line.

A residential area gives way to an industrial section. The pavement up ahead is noticeably different, and I know it’s got to be the division of the two states. It’s then I see a line of six bikes in a parking lot off to my left. I roar across the Stateline into Georgia and turn in the lot. The Devil Kings run out into the road, guns drawn, and the Sin Squad, hot on my tail, all hit their brakes and turn around just before they cross into Georgia.

They flip us off and ride away.

Once they’re gone, Rebel and I climb from the bike and greet the Devil Kings.

One of them comes forward, and I see his president’s patch. He’s older, about Shades’ age, if I had to guess. He stops in front of me and extends a hand, but his eyes flick with interest to Rebel.

“Rusty, President of the Georgia chapter of the Devil Kings. Heard you got yourself in a situation.”

“Brayden, Evil Dead MC. Yes, sir. Thanks for your help.”

Again, his attention shifts to Rebel. “I also heard you had Shades’ daughter with you. Darlin’, you are a dead ringer for your mother. What’s your name?”

“Rebel. You know my mother?” Her chin pulls to the side and her brows drop in a frown.

“I do. It was a long time ago, though. Before you were born. Damn, I can’t get over how much you look like her.” The corner of his mouth pulls up. “You give her my regards, will you?”

“Of course. And thanks for coming to help.”

“No problem. We happened to be close by.” His gaze flicks to me. “So, I see the California rocker you’re sporting. What brings you to ‘Bama?”

I shove my hands in my pockets. “Had a club funeral to attend. Stayed on to help after the clubhouse sustained a good amount of tornado damage.”

“Ah, yeah. I heard Alabama got hit pretty hard. Well, Brayden, it sounds like you might be in some trouble when you get back. I heard Shades is livid you brought his daughter into the Sin Squad’s territory.”

“That was my fault, Rusty,” Rebel cuts in. “I wanted him to see Lookout Mountain in Georgia. I forgot the Incline Railway was in Tennessee when I gave him directions to it.”

He nods, but I know he still figures I hold all the responsibility, which I do. “I should have stopped at the state line. I take all the blame.”

“Well, good luck, kid.” He extends his hand again. “They kick you out, come look me up. I’ll give you a shot to be a King.”

I grin. “I appreciate that, but I hope it’s not necessary.”

“Understood. You best be on your way. They’ll be waiting for you.”

I nod, and he turns away, his men following him to their bikes. I look at Rebel. “Come on. Let’s pull out with them. I don’t want to hang around here in case the Sin Squad sees the Kings leaving us.”