Part 15 (1/2)

He heard the approaching riders before he saw them. The armada of motorcycles first pa.s.sed overhead on 95.

”What exit did you tell them to take?” J. asked Teach.

They were standing out in the recently cleaned parking area. It had always been way too big for their needs. Maybe Teach was right. They needed more allies. More brothers. It wasn't good to go it alone in this world.

J. made a mental note to go to his sister's tomorrow.

”Thought I told them to come up the Vine and get off at Independence Hall,” Teach mused. ”Now they're gonna have to come down from the Aramingo Ave. exit.”

”That's going to suck,” J. agreed. He felt a pain in his palm. Looking down at his hands, he saw they were clenched so tightly his fingernails were digging into his palm. Very deliberately he forced them back open again. ”Are you sure about this, Teach?” he heard himself say.

Teach looked at him. ”It's a risk, I realize that.” He turned to the clubhouse garage and surveyed the grounds with a critical eye. ”I honestly wonder why you, Casey, and Ben joined up in the first place. The Sons of Steel were just a few old guys lying around drinking and reminiscing about the old days until you boys showed up.”

J. looked at the broken pavement under his feet. ”Shut up with that,” he growled, emotions making him sound angrier than he felt. ”After what you did for me? You saved my f.u.c.king life, Teach. I was h.e.l.l-bent on getting myself killed or worse until you came into my life. And I know Case and Crash both feel the same. Mac was the only man in Case's neighborhood who cared enough to see he was gettin' pounded on daily. And Doctor D, well, we know where Crash would be if the Doc hadn't put himself out there and waived his fees. That accident....” J. inhaled. ”We don't have a connection like that with these guys from Richmond. They don't give a s.h.i.+t about us as people, they just want more bodies in their a.r.s.enal.”

The old man set his lips grimly. ”I hear you. Nothing is final. But please think about this.” He gestured to the front step where Emmy sat with Mallory. Both of their heads were down and their expressions were serious. ”That girl over there, the one that you are so taken with? She's got no one behind her, I heard her say as much. Yeah we've got each other's backs, but how much is enough?” He shook his head, his dreads swinging across his chest. ”There's strength in numbers, J. There's merit is belonging to something bigger than yourself.”

The approaching roar robbed J. of his ability to respond. Not that he would know what to say anyway. Everything in him wanted to trust that the old man was infallible. But the nagging feeling that this was a mistake would not go away. He unclenched his fists for the second time and followed his mentor.

One by one, the Storm Riders of Richmond swung into the lot, moving with precise, military precision. J. counted twenty-three bikers, every single one of them as white as Case and Emmy. He thought he saw a few of the men in the back do a double-take when they saw him, but he hoped he was mistaken.

The lead rider stepped off of his tricked out chopper and strode towards Teach. He was at least six inches taller and a hundred pounds heavier than the old man. But Teach extended his hand with the same quiet authority and raised his voice over the noise of the bikes.

”Welcome to Philly, Des! Was it a good ride?”

Case shuffled over to J. The last rider parked his bike and killed the engine, leaving a deafening silence.

”I ran a check on that guy,” he whispered to J. ”Desmond Falwell, president of the chapter.” He chuckled darkly. ”You and him could swap prison stories, though I think he's got a few more.”

Desmond took Teach's hand just above the wrist and the two men clasped forearms. ”Great weather and no ha.s.sles until we got into the city here. Do y'all not believe in marking your exits in the north?”

”We heard you overhead. Sorry about the confusion,” Teach replied mildly. J. looked down and saw his fists were clenched again.

The big man regarded Teach for a heartbeat as if he wanted to say more. Then he stood up straighter. ”Well we appreciate the hospitality,” he said stiffly.

Teach opened his arms wide. ”Make yourselves at home, boys,” he called to the waiting riders.

”Let's f.u.c.kin' party!” Crash yelled, bounding up the steps and landing stiffly on his bad leg. The Storm Riders swarmed into the clubhouse, pressing though the store, knocking equipment from the shelves, shoving and cursing their way towards the liquor. J. scanned the crowd, searching for Emmy's bright platinum head but couldn't find her anywhere.

Chapter 26.

Emmy ”Are all Philly girls as beautiful as you?”

I turned my head sharply. The Storm Rider was already drunk, leaning against the wall sloppily and leering at my chest. It appeared my hiding place had been found.

”Hi,” I ventured, sidestepping his hand quickly as he clumsily reached for me. I made for the door of the bunkhouse, steeling myself before stepping into the fray.

I needed to find J. The leering looks of the bikers had me jumpy and nervous, ready to startle out of my skin at every turn.

I hadn't felt that way this afternoon. This afternoon had been like a dream come true. Relaxing, working together, talking comfortably to Mallory, trading insults with Case, laughing at Crash's antics, listening to Teach talk philosophy and art, all of it, every moment had been part of the slow flower blooming in my chest. And all the while I had been watching J. as he confidently strode around the clubhouse in his element, directing preparations, jumping in to help when he was needed and antic.i.p.ating what needed to be done beforehand.

He had told me the duty of the Road Captain was to fix things. And he was gifted at knowing what needed to be done. The more I saw him work, the more I believed he was exactly what I needed to fix me.

But now I couldn't find him anywhere. The clubhouse was overrun with the loud, aggressive partying of the Storm Riders. Case was watching the mayhem critically from a corner, a dark scowl masking the handsomeness of his face. Crash was draped across the laps of two drunken college girls here for a night of rebellion.

Mac and Doctor D. had disappeared into the lot, supervising the set-up of target practice. I cringed at the occasional bang, hoping the gunshots were all in good fun.

I stepped up onto a pile of boxes, searching for J. It wasn't hard to find him. His close-cropped dark head stood out like a beacon to me amidst the greasy light-haired sea.

”J.!” I called out over the shouts and insults of the party.

He didn't hear me. I sucked in my breath and plunged into the crowd. The shouts of the bikers filled my ears. ”Hey sweetheart, come have a drink!” ”Are you tonight's entertainment?” ”I just want to say hi, don't be like that!”

When I finally reached J. my heart was pounding nearly out of my chest. ”Hi,” I said to him, struggling to keep the note of panic out of my voice.”

”Hey there Em.” He slung his arm over my shoulder and I instantly felt better. The jumpy nervousness dissipated and I lifted my chin. Seeking his lips, I sighed with relief when they found mine. ”Are you having any fun at all?” he murmured in my ear.

”A little,” I lied.

He nodded. I snaked my hand into his back pocket, getting as close to him as I could. But his touch wasn't comforting. He felt just as jumpy and on edge as I had been. His shoulders were up around his ears and he kept flexing and balling his fists.

”Are you having any fun?” I asked him.

Before he could reply, I felt a solid weight smash into my back. I cried out in surprise as I fell forward. The floor rushed up to meet me and I cringed, waiting for the impact.

”What the f.u.c.k!” J. grabbed me just as I was about to hit the floor, yanking me away from the huge Storm Rider before I was crushed beneath him. ”Watch where you're going, dips.h.i.+t!”

”Who're you callin' dips.h.i.+t?” the big man snarled, stumblingly quickly to his feet.

”You, a.s.shole.” J. stepped up to him, pus.h.i.+ng me behind him protectively.

”J.,” I squeaked. ”Don't...”

”Apologize to my girl, a.s.shole,” J. snarled.

The tiniest flutter of excitement awoke in my belly. He called me his girl.

The Storm Rider looked over J.'s shoulder to where I hid. ”She's your girl?” he drawled. ”How the f.u.c.k do you figure?”

The room was suddenly silent. ”Wayne!” Desmond called across the clubhouse.

”I ain't doin' nothin'” Wayne protested. ”I just asked a question, that's all.”