11. Home at Last

ELEVEN

Home at Last

HAWK

F inding the pillow beside me empty is a rude awakening in the morning. I jolt up, about to call out for Etain, when I hear a faint humming and smell the aroma of bacon sizzling. I climb out of bed, remembering that I still don’t have fresh clothes to change into, and reach for my phone to see what’s keeping Shooter from bringing my overnight bag over. Then I hear Shooter’s booming voice coming from the other room.

“Thanks for inviting me to breakfast. Diner’s got great eats, but it’s sure nice not to have to fight the breakfast rush,” I hear him say.

“It’s nothing special. Just bacon, eggs, and toast, but there’s plenty. It’s nice to get to know you better,” Etain replies, and then she asks Shooter how long he’s been working at the shop. Before they get too far into their conversation, I call out to Shooter.

“Yo, bud, before you two continue shooting the shit, bring me my bag.” In seconds, Shooter is knocking on the door.

“You decent?” He pokes his head in. “Hey, man. Here’s your stuff.” He holds up the black leather bag.

“Thanks. Drop it over there. I thought you were sending a prospect.” I run a hand over my face, wiping the sleep out of my eyes.

“I thought I’d come by with news from Drifter. He’s got some insight into Gunner’s plan for the drop. He’s already called Raven. Drifter was going to call you last night, but decided to give you a night to yourself. He’s going to meet you at the tattoo shop for ten,” Shooter says.

“You and Flex are on Etain after I drop her off. I’ll take Decker with me.”

“Sounds good. I’m going to see if I can help Etain with breakfast while you get ready.” He leaves me to get dressed. Shooter’s a good man with a big heart. Unfortunately, he learned the hard way that not all people are as kind as he is. His biological brother fucked his wife and then took his house in the divorce. His brother and ex-wife have since married and are having a kid together. What’s worse is that Shooter’s parents are caught in the middle of it all. They don’t condone what Brett’s done, but they don’t want to be excluded from their grandchild’s life. It’s a bitter pill to swallow, and Shooter’s decided that he wants nothing to do with his brother, ex-wife, or their kid. It sucks because Shooter and Brett were best friends growing up.

“Be right out,” I say at the closed door. I quickly get dressed and saunter out to see Shooter sitting at the table and talking to Etain like she’s been part of the Redemption Riders for years. They both see me watching from the hallway, and Etain’s the first one to speak.

“Hey, honey. Shooter’s joining us for breakfast. How did you sleep?” She says it like it’s happened a hundred times before and doesn’t bat an eye. I walk over to her, placing my hand on the back of her head, holding it steady, and kissing her hard on the mouth.

“I slept good, Ginger. Next time you’re up before me, wake me,” I demand.

“Whatever for? You needed your rest,” she says innocently, still breathless from our kiss.

I shake my head and give her a sexy smile. “Babe.” The meaning behind my words dawns on her, and she gives me a playful slap on my arm.

“Grab a plate and go eat,” she orders. I fill my own plate, and join them. I watch as Shooter and Etain gab away, noticing just how easily she fits in. First Drifter, then Shooter. Etain has a simple way about her that puts everyone at ease.

A knock on the door has me up before Etain, but she tugs on my arm.

“Relax, it’s probably Sasha. She usually does a ‘good morning’ visit,” she says, then goes to open the door. Sasha’s waiting on the other side with a platter of muffins.

“Good morning!” Sasha says cheerfully. “I made chocolate zucchini muffins.” She sees that Etain is not alone. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She tries to hand off the muffins, but Etain drags her inside.

“Have coffee with us,” Etain insists. Sasha hesitates to come in any further. She’s always been reserved and quiet. I’m sure it isn’t often that she walks into a place with two big bikers sitting at a tiny kitchen table in a house that looks like it’s made for a princess.

I checked out Etain’s place yesterday and saw that it was decorated with a woman in mind, with soft, warm colors, crystal chandeliers, and nothing else a guy would have at his place.

“You’re busy,” Sasha replies. “You have guests.”

“I’m never too busy for my friend,” Etain tells her, linking her arm through Sasha’s. “Besides, you know Hawk.” She extends her hand in Shooter’s direction. “Then that’s Shooter, wolfing down his bacon and eggs over there.” Shooter gives Etain his sad puppy-dog eyes, like he’s wounded by her words, causing her to laugh.

“Hi, Shooter,” Sasha says with a little wave. She looks up at me. “Hi, Hawk, want a muffin?”

“Zucchini and chocolate? How does that work?” I’m not a baker, but a vegetable and chocolate don’t seem like they’d mix together.

“They’re really good. Honest,” she says. I don’t know what I’m in for, but I can see that Etain is very close to Sasha, and I don’t want to hurt her feelings. I take one off the plate and bite into it.

The light chocolate and cinnamon combination is delicious, and I wouldn’t even know that zucchini was part of the recipe. “Oh my God, these are fantastic.” I turn to Shooter. “You’re going to want to try this.” Shooter looks skeptical, but Etain hands him one anyway. He takes a bite, and his eyes grow wide, but he doesn’t say a word, he just simply reaches out and takes two more and puts them on his plate.

Sasha begins to laugh. “I’m glad you like them. I made far too many and have another dozen at my place. There’s no way I can eat all of them.” She follows Etain and sits on a stool while Etain pours her coffee.

“The guys at the shop would devour them,” I tell her. “You like to bake, huh?”

“Yeah. I find it calms me down. The house smells good, and it feels homey.” She shrugs. “I like looking at them when they’re done. It feels like I’ve accomplished something.” She looks up at me. “Silly, right?”

“Not at all. It’s kind of like what I feel when I get under the hood of a car and can make the car purr. I totally get it.” I see Sasha’s body begin to relax. She’s very pretty, with long, wavy brown hair parted in the middle that falls down nearly to her ass, big hazel eyes, and a sweet smile. Not as beautiful as Etain, but still a beauty.

“I’ll be happy to deliver them to the shop for you, Sasha,” Shooter volunteers with a sly grin.

“Don’t listen to him. They’ll never make it to the shop,” I tell her.

Shooter shrugs. “I had to give it a shot.”

Etain laughs, and Sasha joins in. The girls drink their coffee while I finish breakfast, and Shooter shoves another muffin in his mouth. I don’t know how he can eat like that. We all work out at the clubhouse, in the gym we built, but the way he eats, he should have to be there four hours a day to work it off.

“We’ve got to get going, Ginger. I’ve got parts to order before I meet Drifter,” I say, and automatically, Sasha’s gaze falls to the floor to hide her expression. I’ve known for a while that Sasha likes Drifter, but she avoids him at every turn. Even around town, whenever Drifter enters the diner or a local shop, Sasha makes a quick exit. Drifter thinks it’s because he scares the life out of her. I know better, and I’m just waiting for Drifter to see what I see.

“I’ll go pack the rest of the muffins,” Sasha says to excuse herself.

Etain gathers her things, and we head out. Sasha has a container in hand, waiting for us by the truck. She hugs Etain and waves as we drive off.

“She’s been amazing, you know. I showed up on her doorstep, and within minutes, she made sure I had a new place to live, fed me, and has been the best friend a stranger could ask for,” Etain says, holding tight to the container. “She knew I was scared.”

“Sasha’s a good woman.” I glance over to see Etain’s serious expression. “What’s on your mind?”

“Friends share. You know, give and take. So far, I feel like I’m taking and giving nothing in return. I know very little about Sasha.”

“Then talk to her, babe. But to be honest, I’m not sure anyone knows much about Sasha. She’s a private person. What I do know is that she says what she means. She’s quiet, but she packs a wallop when it means something to her. When Redemption Riders decided to root themselves in this town, people were freaked out about a motorcycle club bringing problems. Not long after we opened the shop, Sasha came in and straight out told me why we weren’t getting any business. When I assured her that we weren’t settling here to make trouble, but to create jobs, the shop got busy. She’s good people, babe.” I haven’t thought of that moment for a long time. Shit! Sasha’s the one who spread the news, and she was the first one in town to drop off her little bug for an oil change and tune-up. In her own way, she led the town to accepting us as one of their own.

“I like her a lot. She reminds me of my sister in a way. Kiera is way more outgoing and is driven in her profession, but she has kind eyes just like Sasha, and when Kiera speaks to you, she makes it about you. Sasha’s like that, selfless and kind,” Etain says.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see a bike peeking out from between two trees. I go on high alert and slow down to get a better look. I don’t see the rider anywhere near the bike. Etain notices the change in my demeanor, but remains silent. I reach over, taking her hand and giving it a squeeze. “It’s fine, babe. I’m cautious, is all.”

“Okay.” She nods, but not convincingly. Shooter is behind us and sees what I see. He veers off down the small lane that leads around the back and is going to turn back to take another look.

I hit the button to call Drifter.

“Hey, man, what’s up? We meeting soon?”

“Bike’s parked in old Dalton’s field. Shooter’s going to get a better look. I don’t want him out there alone. Who’s close by?”

“Hold up,” Drifter says. He calls out to Decker and tells him to find out where Flex is. I hear the two of them talking back and forth; then Drifter comes back to me. “Flex will be there in two minutes. He’ll connect with Shooter.”

“I’m not far from the shop. I’ll drop off Etain and meet you.”

“Good. I think we may finally have the upper hand,” Drifter replies.

“About fucking time.” I exhale.

“Say hello to Etain for me.”

“She can hear you. You’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Drifter, I’ll save you a muffin,” Etain tells him. “Sasha made them.”

I can hear his intake of breath as soon as Etain mentions Sasha’s name. “What kind?”

“Does it matter?” she asks.

“Yep.”

“Chocolate.”

“Save me one,” he replies and disconnects.

“You lied, Ginger,” I say, tossing her a look and giving her a sly grin.

She turns up the corners of her mouth in a proud smile. “No, I didn’t. There’s chocolate in them.”

When we arrive at the shop, Etain settles back behind her desk and gets to work. She dives back into where she left off, and I collect the parts request form and get on the link for Guard’s parts place and place the order. Then I set off to meet Drifter.

“Take him his muffin, babe. I promised,” Etain calls out to me as I’m leaving.

The tattoo place is three doors down. Phantom is a tattoo artist, and he wanted a shop of his own. This is his to run when he gets out. We hired Luke, who is almost as good as Phantom, to get the place open and start attracting clients. It’s slow going, but we haven’t had time to put much effort into it since we’ve been concentrating on the auto mechanic side of things. After Phantom’s sacrifice taking the fall for his brothers, this is the least we can do.

Luke locks the door when he’s working on a client, but I see Drifter waiting for me. He’s got his phone to his ear, but he sees me coming, gives me a chin lift, and keeps right on talking.

“Prospect, huh? Did you tell him he’s working for the wrong club?” He pauses, then Drifter does an evil laugh. “I bet he was shitting his pants.” Another pause, then, “Fine. Get back to the shop. I’ll fill Hawk in. Later.”

“A Jackal prospect?” I ask.

“Not anymore. Kid got a rude awakening. The Jackals left him out there all night in enemy territory. Guy’s barely sixteen. They used him. Shooter saw he was scared shitless. He and Flex explained how the game is played and took him out to his school and told him to stay there. They confiscated his bike,” Drifter explains.

“I assume he didn’t have any useful information, then.” I cross my arms over my chest, leaning back against the reception counter.

“His vest said “prospect,” but the kid knew less than nothing,” he says.

“Got any good news for me?”

“I do, my friend.” Drifter drops his ass in the waiting room chair. I follow him and sit in the chair next to him. I motion for him to go on. “The Jackals are working with the Benito family. Old Mafia with deep pockets. The Jackals have been contracted to carry their product across the state line to the end buyer. Cicco Benito is a nephew and low man on the totem pole and acting on behalf of Gino Benito, who lives in the old country.”

“So far, I’m hearing nothing that’s going to help us out.”

“Raven’s been tracking the merchandise. The same amount being brought into their dive of a warehouse is not the same as what’s leaving. Gunner’s keeping some for himself and is selling to local dealers,” Drifter says with a crocodile smile that would scare any mean motherfucker.

“Fact?” I ask. I need pure hard facts if I’m going to approach Guard with this information.

“Raven’s bugged the warehouse. There’s a storage room with product, then a hidden room behind that, accessible by code only. That’s where the extra is being held. A pound here and there is going to go unnoticed, and by the time the shipment gets to the final destination, anyone can be blamed. Raven’s got it on video. He’s got it in his hand,” Drifter tells me.

“I want him pulled out and returned here. If they find him, considering what he has on them, he’s a dead man. It’s not safe.”

“He’s on his way back. Left two hours ago. Flex is meeting him to make sure he makes it back safe.”

“Flex isn’t enough. The Jackals run in packs. They’ll never be able to hold them off if shit goes south.” I rake a hand through my hair. “Where are the rest of the men?”

“Most are on the edge of town waiting for them to show. Shooter and Decker are on Etain.” Drifter blows out a breath. “It’s a matter of another hour at most.”

“It took only a few minutes for the Jackals to set off alarms and trap Phantom, Flex, and Shooter,” I remind him. I pull out my phone and dial Guard.

Guard answers on the first ring. “What’s up, brother?”

“Taking a chance by asking, but do you have anyone nearby? We’re bringing Raven home, and he’s carrying important information. Flex is with him, but we’re fucked if they get caught.”

“Hold up.” I hear him call out. “Wildcard, where’s Roscoe and Hammer?” There’s a pause before Guard comes back to me. “Roscoe and Hammer are on the main highway to your place. They dropped off a skip and can meet up with Raven. They’re in a black GMC Terrain.” He rattles off a license plate and a phone number so that the men can connect before he lets me go.

The next hour seems like a lifetime. After calling Flex and giving him the information for Roscoe and Hammer, Drifter and I ride out to meet them.

“I’m fucking starved. I should have stopped for breakfast,” Drifter grumbles as we keep watch on the road. I remember the damn muffin I was supposed to give him and whip out the paper bag I put it in.

“Here.” I toss it at him. He catches it midair. He opens the bag, pulls out the muffin, and takes a bite that devours half the muffin in one go.

“Holy fuck! This is good,” he manages to say around a mouthful. “Got any more?”

“I’ll have Sasha make you a tray all for yourself.”

“Sasha?” He swallows, and I hear the change in his tone, now filled with curiosity.

“She brought them over to Etain this morning and insisted we bring the rest to the shop. Shooter must have eaten half a dozen before we left.” I laugh.

“The fucking guy should be five hundred pounds with the amount of food he inhales,” Drifter says with a huff. “Ain’t gonna be any left by the time we get back,” he mumbles. I hide a snicker, knowing he’s right.

When my cell phone rings, I see it’s Motown. He’s a newly anointed prospect who just became a full-fledged member of the Riders. “Prez, got two Jackals on Broad Street, headed to town. Racer is tailing them in his SUV. I told him to stay out of sight. Thought you should know.”

“Any sign of Gunner or his muscle, Tank?”

“Nah, I think they’re trying to rattle our chain, but we’re not biting,” Motown responds.

I hear the rumble of pipes heading our way. “Keep vigil. Wait for my call.” I hang up and look in that direction to see Flex leading the way with Raven right behind him, and tailing Raven are Roscoe and Hammer. I breathe a sigh of relief.

The guys see us immediately and stop where we’ve parked. “Hey, boss,” Raven says with a grin. He digs into his leather jacket, unzipping a pocket on the inside, and pulls out a USB key. He drops it into my open palm. “We’ve got the assholes.”

Meanwhile, Roscoe’s pulled up his truck and has rolled down his window. “Guard wants to know if you need anything else before we head home,” he says.

“No, man, but let us feed you before you head out. It’s the least we can do,” I tell him and glance over to Hammer. They both turn their heads, but it’s Hammer who answers.

“I’ve been two days without my girl. I want to get home, but rain check for sure. I hear you cook some mean ribs. I’m up for that whenever you make them,” he says with a chuckle.

“Me too,” Roscoe adds.

“Must be some pretty hot babes if you won’t hang for a couple of hours,” Drifter teases.

“Just wait, brother. Your time will come when someone comes along, and you’ll be so loopy, you won’t be able to think straight until you have her in your arms. Then I’m going to remind you of this moment,” Roscoe warns him.

“By the way, Thunder says hey,” Hammer adds. He looks to his bud. “Let’s roll.” They both give a sign and then take off the same way they came. I curl my hand into a tight fist around the gift Raven just laid on me.

“Let’s go home, men,” I say.

Raven looks around at the place we call home. “Hot shower, good food, and an actual bed. Sounds like heaven. Home at last,” he says, revving his bike to life. It’s good to have us all together, with the exception of Phantom. Soon, though.