Fearing The Biker Page 5

  “That’s fine. Just do it after you make sure they get home without issues,” he said.

  “I will,” said Tank.

  “You okay with this?” I asked him. Tank wasn’t always an easy person to read. Right now, he seemed a little too quiet.

  “Of course I am,” he said, breaking into a smile. “Gotta keep Little Sis safe. Not to mention my Momma Bear, over there.”

  Frannie smiled. She loved it when he called her that. His own mother had died of cancer when he was two years old and although some of the other club member’s Old Ladies had helped to take care of him, he’d never had anyone else to really call ‘mom’.

  “And you do a great job of it, Justin,” she said, this time calling him by his real name. “I’m fearless when you’re around. You’re like our own personal Superman”

  “Just don’t be too fearless,” said Slammer, eyeing a dark S.U.V. that was parked but idling across the street. “He’s not bulletproof.”

  Mom and I looked at each other and frowned.

  Tank laughed and put a hand on her shoulder. “Leave it to Pop to become overly-dramatic. Nobody is going to start shooting at us.”

  “They do and I don’t care who’s watching, I’m cleaning house,” said Slammer, still staring at the SUV. “And fuck the Feds or anyone else who tries to stopping me.”

  When we reached my mother’s car, Slammer pulled Frannie into his arms and held her tight. “I’m going to miss you, Babe. I wish I could join you.”

  “I know, but you’ve got your hands full here in town,” she said softly.

  I couldn’t hear his answer. They murmured a few things quietly to each other and then kissed. Afterward, he released her and turned to me.

  “Watch over your mother,” he said.

  “Of course,” I replied, noticing again how weary he looked. With his gray hair and weathered skin, he suddenly looked much older than fifty-seven. Truthfully, I’d noticed that he’d aged quite a bit, since I’d first met him, three years ago. The drinking, smoking, and stress of being a club president, wasn’t doing him any favors.

  Slammer gave me another hug and then nodded toward the red Mustang. “So, you like the car?”

  I grinned. “Are you kidding me? I love it. Thanks again.”

  “You’re welcome, darlin’.” He put his sunglasses on and lowered his voice. “To be honest, I did it for you and your mother. She worries about you so much, you know?”

  I glanced at my mom, who was saying something to Tank. “Believe me, I know.”

  He walked over to his bike and picked up his helmet. “Happy Wife, Happy Life.”

  I smiled.

  “Anything goes wrong with the car, you call me.”

  “I will,” I said.

  “Good. I’m heading out. Call me before you leave, Frannie,” said Slammer.

  “I will,” she said. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Tank, don’t go back to get your stuff until you’ve secured the townhouse,” said Slammer.

  “Will do,” replied Tank, getting onto his motorcycle.

  “I’ll meet you both at our place,” I told my mother.

  “Okay.”

  Waving at the guys, I got into the Mustang and started the engine, enjoying the feel of the leather seats and that new car smell. When I left the parking lot and accelerated, the engine rumbled with power. As much as I was frustrated with what was happening with the club, I had to admit - the car was very nice.

  Chapter Seven

  My cell phone rang as I drove home. It was Tank.

  “What’s up?” I asked.

  “I just ran out of gas. The fucking gauge isn’t working, for some reason,” he said angrily.

  I looked in the rearview mirror and found that I was alone. “Oh, crap. Do you need a ride to the gas station?”

  “I’m with Frannie right now. She’s giving me a ride.”

  “Oh, good.”

  “When you get back to the house, park across the street and don’t get out. Wait for me.”

  “Okay.”

  “Sorry.”

  “There’s no reason to be. It’s not your fault.”

  He grunted. “My old man would be the first to disagree. Anyway, we’ll get back to the house as quickly as possible. Remember, don’t get out of the car.”

  “I won’t.”

  “See you soon.”

  “Okay.” I said.

  After we hung up, I called Adriana’s cell phone, to see if she was doing okay.

  “I heard what happened,” I told her. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks.”

  “How are you and Raptor holding up?”

  “Okay, I guess. Sammy and I are with my mother, right now. I haven’t heard from him for a few hours, though,” she replied. “It’s making me nervous. He was pretty shaken by the news.”

  “I can imagine. Have you talked to the cops?”

  “Yes. They don’t have any leads right now. Trevor thinks it was the Devil’s Rangers.” She let out a ragged sigh. “I thought that nightmare with them was behind us.”

  “Yeah. Me, too. Looks like it won’t ever go away.”

  Adriana sighed again. “Looks like.”

  “Well, I’m leaving town. I just wanted to call to make sure everything is okay with you.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I explained.

  “Shoot. I was hoping to get together with you before you left for Minnesota. Obviously, leaving right now is the best thing to do, though. If these guys went after Mavis, none of us are safe in this town.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking. What about you and Sammy? Do you think it’s safe staying in Jensen?”

  “We don’t really have a choice but to stay. Trevor assures me that we’ll be fine, though. He’s going to have a couple of the Prospects keep an eye on us when he’s away. We also had a home-security system put in a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Even with all of that, you’re still staying with your Vanda?”

  “Yes, but just until tomorrow. Trevor feels that the Devil’s Rangers wouldn’t have an address for her or Jim, especially now that they moved into his place, so we’re just hanging out here for the next twenty-four hours.”

  “So, you’re going home tomorrow?”

  “I hope so. I don’t like having to feel like this. Frightened, you know? And,” she laughed. “I miss my damn house.”

  She and Raptor had just moved into a newly constructed home in the suburbs. I’d been to their house-warming party and could understand her frustration with not being able to be there. It was certainly beautiful.

  “Does she know who you think killed Raptor’s mom?” I asked, remembering the stories about Vanda and her contempt toward the club. She’d eased up, but from what Adriana had said, the biker life still worried her.

  “No. She only knows that Mavis is dead but that’s it. She thinks we’re staying here because I’m grieving and want her support. Obviously, I am pretty shaken, too, but if I told her that we thought it was the Devil’s Rangers, she’d pack our bags and ship us to Canada herself.”

  “Canada might not be a bad idea,” I mumbled “Especially if those freaks are really in town and still looking for revenge.”

  “After what happened three years ago with Mud and knowing what their club is capable of, I’d have to agree. The farther away from Jensen, the better.”

  “If you want, I can swing by and pick you and Sammy up? Bring you two with me to Cheryl’s?” I said, meaning it.

  “Thanks for the offer, but we couldn’t leave Trevor and obviously, he’s not going anywhere. He hasn’t said much but I’m pretty sure that he’s already looking into retaliation.” She sighed. “It’s just a never-ending cycle. I don’t know how much more of this I can take, to be honest.”

  My eyes widened. “Are you thinking of leaving him?”

  “No, but I might threaten to, just to get him out of this bullshit. It’s not just about him and the Gold Viper’s anymo
re. It’s about keeping Sammy safe.”

  “I get it. Believe me,” I replied, worried about my mother. “Look, if you ever need anything or just want someone to talk to, call me. I mean it.”

  “I will and the same goes to you. I don’t care what time of the day or night it is – call me if you need to talk.”

  I smiled. She was a good friend and I already missed her. “Thanks. Once I’m settled, you’ll have to take a trip up to Shoreview for a visit.”

  “Sounds like fun. Oh, I’m getting another call. Looks like it’s Trevor. Drive safely and thanks for calling, Jessica. It was good hearing from you.”

  “It was good for both of us. You take care, too. Give Sammy a kiss for me.”

  “I will. Goodbye.”

  “Goodbye.”

  I hung up, slid my phone back into my purse, and drove home. When I pulled up to the house, I parked across the street, turned off the engine, and waited. Not seeing anything unusual, I relaxed and closed my eyes. Leaning my head against the seat, I thought about Adriana and Sammy and hoped they’d be okay. Not only was she incredibly sweet, she was a good mother with a lot of patience for someone our age. We were both twenty-four and I couldn’t imagine having a child right myself. Of course, our situations were much different and the thought of a man touching me intimately was still hard to think about. Even after the counseling and support meetings that I’d been to, I knew it would be a while before I allowed anyone into my bed. Admittedly, I did read a lot of romance books and longed for something that I wasn’t naïve enough to believe was real – a hero who would sweep me off my feet, protect me from the bad guys, and when it came to sex… had the patience of a saint.

  My own personal super-hero…

  Snorting to myself, I opened my eyes and then gasped loudly when I noticed a man staring at me from outside of my car window.

  “Sorry,” he said loudly, smiling at me. He had long blonde hair, pulled back into a ponytail, and a shortly cropped beard. “Didn’t mean to frighten you.”

  I looked down and my heart stopped when I noticed the cut. He was a Devil’s Ranger.

  “Do you live around here?” he asked, apparently not knowing who I was.

  Trying not to panic. I shook my head.

  His smile widened. “Could you roll down your window?” he hollered. “So we can talk?”

  I started the engine. “Sorry, I need to be somewhere,” I said loudly. Then, before he could respond, I put the car in drive and stepped on the gas, grateful that nobody was in front of me. As I began driving away, I grabbed my phone and called my mother.

  “I’m almost there,” she answered.

  “Don’t go home,” I said quickly, looking in my rearview mirror. When I saw two bikers following me, I gasped in shock. “Oh my God. They’re following me.”

  She sucked in her breath. “Who?”

  My heart felt like it was beating out of my chest. “Devil’s Rangers,” I said, watching as they hung back.

  “What?!”

  “There are two of them. They’re not being aggressive but I think they know who I am.”

  “Were they at the house?”

  “Yes,” I said, grabbing my purse. With shaky hands, I reached in and pulled out the small Taurus revolver I’d kept hidden. Then I grabbed the box of bullets out of the other side.

  “Listen to me, call nine-one-one,” she ordered, her voice shrill. “Tell them you’re being followed by someone who means you harm.”

  “Yeah. Okay. I will,” I replied, turning a corner quickly. As I looked into my rearview mirror again, I noticed the two bikers kept going straight and relaxed. “Wait. Maybe I’m just being paranoid. They were at the house but the two guys who I thought were following me, didn’t turn when I turned. They’re gone.”

  She let out a sigh of relief. “Okay. Honey, drive directly to the clubhouse. I’ll call Slammer and let him know what’s going on.”

  “Okay. Where are you?”

  “I’m about a mile away from the townhouse. I’m turning around. I’ll meet you at the clubhouse, instead.”

  “Okay.”

  “If you see them again, call the police.”

  “I will,” I said, still trying to calm down. My entire body was shaking, knowing that they were out there somewhere, trying to find us.

  “I love you.”

  “I love you too, Mom.”

  After we hung up, I turned down another block and headed toward the clubhouse, like she’d said. As I stopped at a light, the phone rang again. It was Tank.

  “Hi. I take it you heard?”

  “Yes,” he replied. “How many were there?”

  “It looked like there were only two of them.” I then explained what happened.

  “Mother-fuckers,” he growled. “Okay, get your ass to the clubhouse. I’ll meet you and Frannie there as soon as possible.”

  “Okay.”

  “Don’t stop off anywhere else and if you see them again, call me immediately.”

  “If I see them again, I’m calling the cops.”

  “Only if your life is in danger,” he said. “We’d like to handle these guys ourselves.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Right. I’m thinking if I see them again, my life will be in danger.”

  “Let’s hope you don’t,” he said. “See you soon.”

  “Okay.”

  I hung up and looked down at my gun again. I’d started feeling a little paranoid carrying it, but after what had just happened, I was happy that I’d kept it in my purse.

  Shoving it, along with the box of bullets, back into my handbag, I continued down two more blocks, to a stop sign. As I was about to drive forward, a black van flew around my car and came to a screaming halt.

  “Oh my God,” I gasped, horrified as two men jumped out and rushed toward my car, holding guns.

  “Get out!” hollered the same guy who’d been outside of my house, minutes before. His friendly smile was long gone and I could see that he meant business. “Now!”

  Paralyzed with fear, I stared at him.

  He raised his gun. “I’ll kill you now if you don’t open the fucking thing.”

  Trembling, I reached toward the door to unlock it when the biker on the other side of the car, a heavy-set guy with long curly hair and a bushy beard, pointed his gun toward an SUV. I watched in horror as he fired it.

  “Oh my God!” I screamed, covering my mouth.

  The windshield exploded and the driver, an elderly man, slumped forward.

  “Get out. Now!” repeated the fat guy who’d shot him. “Or more people are going to die, including you!”

  Shaking violently, I grabbed my purse, and unlocked the door, hoping they’d let me keep it long enough for me to get my gun and bullets.

  The blonde, who I noticed had the name “Stryker” embossed on his cut, grabbed my arm and pulled me out roughly.

  “What do you want with me?” I sobbed, as he dragged me over to the van. His hand was locked around my wrist, like a vice and I could feel his nails digging into my skin.

  “Shut the fuck up,” he growled over his shoulder, glaring at me. “You’ve already caused enough problems.”

  “Problems? I don’t know any of you,” I cried, as he shoved me against the van, his gun still pointed at me. “Why are you doing this?”

  Ignoring the question, he noticed my purse and snatched it from me. “You’re not going to need makeup where we’re going.”

  “Or maybe she will?” laughed the other biker, as Stryker tossed it to him. “Reaper can’t seem to get enough pussy, now that he’s out of the prison. He might like this one.”

  “No, please!” I cried, trying to pull away. “Why are you doing this?”

  “Because of whom you are, darlin’” said the heavy-set guy, with the name “Grady” stitched onto his cut.

  “I don’t know who you think I am… but, you’re wrong. I’m nobody. Please, just let me go. I won’t say anything,” I begged. “I promise.”

  “Good id
ea. Keep your mouth shut,” said Grady. “Women should be seen and not heard.”

  Chuckling, Stryker pushed me into the van just as sirens began to blare in the distance. Then he slammed the door and locked me inside.

  “Let me out!” I screamed, pounding on the door with my fists.

  I heard the sound of the men getting into the van and seconds later, was thrown backward as we peeled away. Feeling as if all was lost and my fate was sealed, I put my hands over my face and cried.

  Chapter Eight

  I was just getting ready to board the plane when Slammer called me.

  “I’ve got a problem,” he said angrily. “My step-daughter, Jessica, is missing.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Frannie told me that she called her, about twenty minutes ago, and said that Jessica thought that she was being tailed by some of the Devil’s Rangers.”

  I swore. This was the same girl who’d been raped. It didn’t look good for her. “Where was Jessica when she spotted them?”

  “Leaving our townhouse. She took off and was supposed to meet everyone here at the clubhouse, but hasn’t showed up yet. She’s not answering her phone, either. Frannie is worried sick.”

  “I’ll get there as quickly as possible,” I said. “In the meantime, I’ll make some phone calls. Find out as much as I can about Reaper and see if anyone knows where he might be holding up.”

  “I’d appreciate it, brother.”

  I hung up and got into Barney’s plan, a small Beechcraft that I’d ridden in at least a dozen times.

  “Can I use my cell when we’re up?” I asked him. Normally, I wasn’t much of a phone conversationalist, so I’d never bothered checking with him before.

  “You won’t get a good signal. If it’s urgent, I’d make the call now, before we fly.”

  “Okay. How long will it take to get to Jensen, do you suppose?”

  He looked at his watch. “About six hours.”

  “Okay. Give me a minute,” I said, shoving my travel bag into one of the compartments.

  “No problem.”

  I stepped back outside and began making calls. Eventually, I found a contact who knew something. Brett Davis.

  “Reaper has an uncle with a cabin in Cedar Rapids,” said Brett. “Rumor has it that he was going to be visiting it soon.”