I slam the door behind us.
“Yeah, I see you,” he calls out. “Knew you were here the second you pulled into my parking lot. I might be old, but I sure as fuck ain’t blind or deaf, and you boys sure as fuck don’t sneak as well as the Viet fucking Cong.”
“What the fuck are you doing to our truck?” I say.
“Fixing it. What the fuck does it look like I’m doing?”
Stupefied, I take a second to gather my thoughts. “Why are you fixing it?”
“You shocked I’d still do my job after all the shit you and your friends pulled? Yeah, I am, too,” he says. Then he slides out from under the truck and wipes grease from his hands with a rag. “But I got a call from Violet about an hour ago. She wanted it done ASAP and there isn’t much I wouldn’t do for that girl. So, against my better judgment, I got my ass down here and fixed your fucking truck. She also asked me to remind you of your fucking deal, and that, when this shit is over, she wants you as far away from Carbon Ridge as fucking possible.”
“Jesus, Crash, what the fuck did you do to Violet?” Blaze whispers.
“Long fucking story. But it’s for her own fucking good,” I reply. Then I turn back to Max. “So, is it ready?”
“Oh, it sure is. I even had time to adjust your fucking suspension, so your ride to wherever the fuck it is you’re going should be smoother than a baby’s ass in a silk diaper.”
“Thanks, Max,” I say.
He shrugs. “You’re welcome. Now, do like Violet asks and get the fuck out of Carbon Ridge.”
Blaze and I get the truck out of Max’s shop, and we’re hardly outside for a minute before Bowen Dale pulls up into the lot in an enormous flatbed truck, with all of our bikes on the back. He hops out, a wicked grin on his face and a gun in his hand. When he notices me looking at his gun, he winks at me.
“How the fuck do you pull this shit off, old man?” Blaze says, walking around to the back of the flatbed truck. He, Mack, and Snake start to work unloading the first bike.
“Son, there is no more potent nor more dangerous combination on God’s green earth than money and cojones. I happen to be blessed with the balls to dream big, and the money and talent to make it happen.”
The three of them get the bike on the Tommy Gate on the back of the truck and, using the hydraulic lift, get the bike on the ground.
“Well,” Blaze says. “If you’re ever in Lone Mesa, look me up. I owe you a beer for getting my bike back to me.”
“Oh, I don’t imagine I’ll ever be seeing you again but, if I ever find myself out there, I’ll take you up on that offer.”
After all the bikes are unloaded, Bowen Dale hops back into the truck and drives away without another word.
“I hope I’m like him when I’m old,” Blaze says.
“Oh, I’m sure you’ll be the talk of the whole fucking trailer park,” I say. “Now, we got to get back on the road. Blaze, since you want to settle in to your old man identity, you can drive the cargo truck. Get your bike loaded and strapped down. Mack, Snake, you two will ride point on your bikes. I will take the van and play a little Driving Miss Deacon.”
“Where are we heading?” Mack says.
“Head back to the highway, make a turn toward Denver. Once we’re well on our way, we’ll have Julie make a call to her husband. Then we can set a trade: her life for Kendra’s.”
* * * * *
A two-hour drive out of Carbon Ridge in the dead of night gets us far enough away that I feel secure in flashing my headlights as a signal for everyone to pull over. Julie hasn’t spoken the entire time; either her husband’s trained her well in how to be a good hostage, or she’s so scared that she doesn’t have it in her to open up her mouth. Either way, I’m happy. Treating a woman like this — like some piece of meat to be bargained with — doesn’t sit well with me, even if she is the wife of a piece of shit like Roger ‘Dread’ Deacon.
We pull into the lot of a gas station, and I head inside to buy a burner phone.
“Call your husband,” I snap as I hand the phone to her. “There’s a rest stop ten miles east of Denver just off the highway. Tell him you will be there at 4 a.m. and if he’s not there with Kendra, unharmed, and that piece of shit Switchblade, I’ll be dropping pieces of you all around Carbon Ridge for him to find. Got it?”
She makes the call and, through snot and tears, gets the message across. I hear her husband yell loud enough through the phone that she flinches but, when I motion for her to hang up, she does and looks at me with meek, tear-shining eyes.
“He’ll be there,” she says. “He loves me, he won’t make trouble. Just don’t hurt me, please.”
“Good for you,” I say. Then I nod and then motion to the others. Excitement builds in my chest — finally this whole fucking nightmare will be over and I can leave Carbon Ridge and Violet Cassidy behind me for good and get back to doing what I do best: earning for the club. “Back on the road, brothers. In just a couple hours this will all be over.”
We drive. Julie stays silent the whole damn
