Twenty-Five

Malice

The clubhouse was in uproar.

The second Montana woke and found out what Pippen had done, he lost his shit, but it was Bane who calmed the irate fucker down, and when Bane explained why and showed Montana the files regarding the accident, Montana ordered Pippen to print hard copies regarding all current and past board members.

As it was now, everyone was sitting in the main room, going over their own boxes. Some were cursing, some sitting in shock, while others were already drinking heavily. For once, Bane wasn't drunk as he scoured his box, looking for information on Iris, determined to find out why the club attached his name to the woman.

"Malice?" Arianwen whispered, taking a seat next to me as I stared at my box.

"I don't want to open it."

"Then don't. Let's get out of here."

Facing me, he asked, "And go where?"

"I don't care. Let's just ride."

Taking her hand in mine, we both left the clubhouse, ignoring everything and everyone around us.

Like a wild animal breaking free from its confinement, my bike violently erupted out of the compound, emitting a deafening roar. With a combination of sleekness and deadliness, I confidently made my way towards the wide expanse of the open highway. I rode aimlessly, completely unaware of where I was going. What consumed my thoughts was the knowledge that Arianwen was sitting behind me, and the relief of leaving the clubhouse made me feel liberated.

It was an entirely new experience for me to have someone ride with me, but the way she fit in behind me made it seem like she had done it many times before. There was a certain familiarity to it, which brought a comforting feeling in its own special way. Whenever she decided to join the club for a ride, she would always opt for Montana's bike. Even though it bothered me at the time, I chose not to say anything about it. Not wanting to throw suspicion my way.

When the skies began to darken and rain poured from the heavens, I zoomed past the caged drivers, completely disregarding everything and everyone around me. Urging my bike to go faster, I leaned forward and felt the cool, damp air enveloping my leather-clad body.

I crouched lower, bent over the tank.

The controls were under my touch, and I could feel the powerful heartbeat of my bike coming to life. As I reached back, an overwhelming desire to touch her enveloped me and I gently caressed her thigh, feeling the tightness of her body against mine. Providing a sense of comfort and safety as we embarked on our journey into the approaching storm.

Everything was changing.

I could feel the shift, sense something dark coming.

Whatever it was, I knew it was going to be bad.

I pushed the throttle all the way open, giving it maximum power. As the bike surged forward, my bike exerted enough force to push my arms back. The surge of adrenaline that flooded my veins was both chilling and electrifying. As the engine roared between my thighs, its piercing scream resonated like a banshee, symbolizing the unbridled power that had been set free.

We were nothing but a blur, a wisp of air howling through the night.

My determination grew stronger. The need to leave everything behind, to free myself from everything, became paramount. I exerted more force, while my speedometer steadily increased, until everything faded, blurred into one large beam of light, shooting past us until only darkness remained as I headed for the Lincoln Tunnel.

My fingers twisted the handlebars as my eyes squeezed shut for a split second before I plunged into the abyss. Harsh fluorescents strobed across my helmet, making it hard for me to see while cages whizzed by, blaring their horns. The sound echoing off the tube, drowning out everything but the annoying sound.

My bike's thunderous echoes pummeled me from all sides. My heart slammed against my ribs, sweat trickled down my spine. The weight of everything pressed down on me, crushing me.

Suffocating me.

I couldn't breathe. The walls were closing in.

Trapping me in a stone tomb.

I had to get out of there.

Fast.

Thoughts of escape consumed me when something came up beside me.

I couldn't see what it was, only sensed that I needed to get away.

Something splintered next to me, causing me to grunt.

Blinking, I tried to focus on anything but the death tube I was in, when lights in front of me blinded me. Swerving hard to the left, I narrowly missed a cage. Looking over my shoulder, I saw three bikes racing to catch up.

Like me, they were clad in full black riding gear.

Even their bikes gave nothing away.

Wrenching the throttle, I rocketed forward at impossible speeds.

I had to make it out of the tunnel.

The trailing bikes sped up, one rushing past me while the other two kept pace alongside of me. I didn't know who they were or what they wanted, and I didn't care.

I just needed to get out of this fucking tunnel.

Revving my throttle, I zoomed past them, Arianwen's arms tightening around me, just as one of the rear bikes clipped my back wheel, causing me to lose control of my bike. As if in slow motion, I found myself airborne, flying close to the ceiling of the tunnel. I could make out the colored tiles that someone had painstakingly cemented in place many years ago. Tires screeched, horns blared, and screams surrounded me as the road quickly came up to meet me. Still, I didn't stop moving when my body hit the ground hard, rolling several times before coming to a complete stop. Gasping for air, I stared at the tiles on the ceiling and wondered how many of them there were.

"Make sure she's alive!" a harsh voice ordered as someone walked over to me.

Kneeling down before me, all I saw was a black helmet, when I clearly heard someone say, "Now listen carefully, Gideon. I'm only going to say this once. Tell your friend Popeye to turn over Gray Greer. If he doesn't give me Gray, I will kill everyone you love, starting with your mother, Amelia."

"I got it. We need to go!" someone shouted when the sounds of sirens wailed in the distance, drawing closer.

"Is she alive?"

"Yes," the other man confirmed before I clearly heard the roar of an engine as it sped off.

Slowly, I turned my head to the side and saw Arianwen lying motionless in the middle of the road. I tried reaching out for her, only to be stopped when a police officer halted my movements.

"Hang on. The paramedics are coming."

"Arianwen?"

Mercy jumped to his feet, leaning over me. "Holy fuck, you're alive!"

Groaning, I tried to push the fucker away from me but couldn't move my arms. Everything hurt. The light in the room blinded me, causing my head to pound hard like a jackhammer. My mouth was dry and my lips sticky as if I hadn't had water in weeks. Everything just felt off.

"Don't move, asshole. You laid down your bike and damn near died. Fury, go find Bane," Montana ordered, getting to his feet. Leaning close, he whispered so only I could hear, "You ever scare me like that again, you crazy motherfucker, and you are going to wish you fucking died."

"Arianwen?"

"She's in the room next door. What the fuck happened, Malice?" Mercy asked.

Grimacing, I tried to ignore the pounding in my head. My whole body hurt, ached as if someone had rung me through the ringer.

"Biker clipped me."

"What? The police said you lost control ‘cause of the wet roads."

I growled. "Three bikes. One clipped me. How bad?"

"Well, according to the police officer, eyewitnesses said the second you lost control of your bike, you rolled at the last minute, allowing your back to take the brunt. You've got road rash in a few places, and you are going to be sore as fuck for a few days, but you'll live, thanks to your fucking helmet, which is toast, by the way."

"Arianwen?"

"She wasn't so lucky. Like you, her helmet saved her, and she has a bit of road rash but she will survive."

Narrowing my eyes, I glared at Montana.

He wasn't telling me something.

"What else?"

"Silver was pregnant, Malice. The baby didn't survive."

Shaking my head, I whispered, "No."

"Sorry, man. There was nothing anyone could do. Docs said she wasn't far along," Montana solemnly said, rubbing the back of his neck before adding, "Brother, this is a clusterfuck. What exactly do you remember?"

Looking at my president, I recalled, "There were three bikers. Dressed like us. They clipped my rear tire. When I landed, one of them came over. Said some shit that didn't make sense. They want Popeye to hand over someone. Said if he didn't, they were going to kill everyone I loved, starting with my mother. Montana, no one knows where I hid my mom. I didn't tell anyone. Not even Ivy. They were also worried about Arianwen. The guy kept asking if she was alive."

"They say who they want?"

"Someone called Gray Greer."

"Who the fuck is that?"