“Christ, I hope so,” I couldn’t help but admit. “I think she does. But I know it’s a lot to get used to. She was pretty isolated with Riley before. Despite living in San Francisco, she didn’t get out much. Couldn’t, with having Riley.”
“She doesn’t have people?”
I shook my head. “Her parents are dead. And her brother’s a fuckin’ deadbeat. He’s Riley’s biological father. Left her to Layla a few years ago.”
His nostrils flared in anger. “You looked into him?”
I nodded. “He’s keeping his distance. Hasn’t crossed state lines in years.”
He cocked his head to the side, assessing me carefully. “Your flavor of vengeance is an odd one, boy. This man,” he gestured to the general direction of Rosewater, “put his hands on your woman’s neck once and needs to die. But her brother abandoned his own daughter and you don’t seem the least bit interested in tracking him down.”
I looked him squarely in the eye. “He gave me Riley. And in the way life weaves its own paths, Layla too. And last Gunner checked, he was doing a bang-up job fucking up his own life. I’m letting it lie.”
His lips turned up at the corners into a semblance of a smile. “Good enough.”
His clear respect had an odd feeling expanding in my chest. “Your wife all right?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Roxy’s tough as nails.” He nodded. “Used to me on the road, though I don’t always like that,” he admitted. “She’s got women at her back, just like Layla, and men watching the house anytime I’m away.”
“Sounds familiar.”
He barked out a hoarse laugh. “I’d assume it does. Clubs like ours, we may disagree on some shit, may run things differently, but at the heart of both, there’s good men and that means we look out for our own. Especially our women and children.”
“Wasn’t always like that,” I hedged, and he knew I was referring to the previous Black Riders club, the one we battled, the one we shed blood for. It was before my time, but those wounds and that history affected me all the same.
He rested his elbows on the table, his hands clasped, resting against his chin. “That’s not the club we are now. Haven’t been for years.”
I nodded before asking the question that had been top of mind ever since I’d learned I was his son. “You think it’ll change things between our clubs?”
I wasn’t surprised that he knew exactly what I was referring to. “Do you want it to?”
For me it wasn’t a difficult question to answer. “I don’t plan on leaving the Knights.”
He nodded, looking as though he’d expected such a response. “I don’t plan to leave the Riders either. I think there could be change, but it will come in the form of bringing our clubs closer together. I do plan to be in Hawthorne a lot more. And hope you’ll come down to Vegas and bring your girls.”
I wasn’t ready for that. I believed him to be a good man and felt his wife was likely good people. But I wanted to feel this all out more before bringing Riley and Layla into the fold. It was all still so new. I wouldn’t introduce Riley to a brand-new grandfather until I knew things were rock solid.
“In your own time,” he rumbled, as though reading my mind. “You ready to hit the road again?”
I nodded, tossing my napkin down and swigging the last of my water. I would kill for a cold beer, but I needed every ounce of my wits about me.
And it was a good thing too.
****
“Cut that motherfucker off!” Thorn hollered, his deep bellow carrying over the roar of our bikes and whipping wind. It was close to midnight when we’d finally zeroed in on my mark, and the bastard had just enough time to hop on his bike to try to escape.
But he wouldn’t get far.
The blood pumped in my veins, heart hammering as I locked in on my target. His illuminated taillight was like a beacon, taunting me.
The narrow strip of highway, devoid of cars at this late hour, was the perfect opportunity to open my motor up, pushing my bike to its limit as I narrowed the gap between us.
He swerved right in a desperate attempt to evade me. The tree that suddenly loomed in his headlights, its gnarled limbs outstretched as though toward him, was something made from nightmares. The next few moments were as though in slow motion. I pulled my bike back, skidding out in my haste as his bike hit the tree with a sonic boom. Giant flames erupted, scorching the air as they devoured the bike and licked up the tree.
There was no scream, no wail. No sound at all except the sinister crackle of fire.
“That bike’s about to go all the way up. We gotta go,” Thorn prompted.