Patience: Biker Romance (The Davis Chapter Book 1) (10 page)

I let Thunder speak, “Like I said, I know that our actions are the actions of the club. I’ve heard about Las Vegas, and the very last thing that I want is anymore bloodshed. At the same time, we are both in a jam and facing an opportunity, here.”

“Look, there’s no secret handshake or nothing. Try and keep quiet, as hard as that might be.” Trask sounded much older than he looked. He sounded like a father giving sage wisdom. He shoot us away with his hands, “Go with God, but fuckin’ go.”

 
The Devil’s Branch ran a bar on the south side of Davis. It reminded me a lot of the Watering Hole. The building, itself, probably looked fairly unassuming during the daytime. It wasn’t the daytime, though. It was damn near three in the morning, and Thunder and I were staked out in a parking lot across the street.

For three hours, the two of us sat in Thunder’s pickup truck and stared. The adrenaline was the only thing keeping me going, And even that was wearing off. “I can think of ten better ways to spend our night.” I gave Thunder a sultry look in the near darkness.

“Believe me, I’d rather be tongue deep inside you than anywhere else, but this can’t wait. The sooner we get to the bottom of this, the sooner I’m gonna strip you down to nothing.”

He was growing on me, and it wasn’t just his way with words. Thunder didn’t have to do any of this for me, but he was. At the time, when he said we were together I thought he was being cocky and a little presumptuous. As we sat in the truck across from the bar, I thought about the possibility of me and him. I thought about the possibility of going back to my old life with the DEA. And I couldn’t help but think of the third possibility that Trask laid out: become a double agent.

With no memory, the idea of loyalty was pretty much lost on me. Maybe that was why I was awake at three in the morning staring at a biker bar. Maybe I believed that the only way I could make a real decision was to know the real truth. If that truth was inside the Devil’s Branch headquarters, Thunder and I were going to find it.

I was about to keep the verbal foreplay going, but Thunder sat up in an instant. “Him. That’s the one we want.”

I squinted through the darkness at the man who had just pushed through the bar door. He had long hair that fell around his shoulders and a beard to match. He wore a black leather vest like the Rising Sons. I assumed on the back would be a Devil’s Branch design to match the bar’s: a cartoon devil with a mad grin and a whip in his hand. I raised an eyebrow, “How do you know?”

Thunder never took his eyes off the man. “ He’s drunk, but not too drunk. He can still squeal. He’s old, but not too old. He’s probably in the know. My eyes aren’t the best, but I’m pretty sure his patch says he’s the Veep. Little-known fact: the president is usually a figurehead. The vice-president is usually the one to get his hands dirty.”

After seeing Thunder fight, I wasn’t about to question him. He was strong, and he knew what he was talking about. If Thunder said
that
was the man,
that
was the man.

“What’s the plan?”

 
Thunder let out a low, long grunt, “Eh, not really sure the best way to play this one. One way or another, he’s coming with us. We can grab him now and risk his bike sitting around for someone to find. That, or we tail him until we can snatch him.”

Other than the occasional flash of instinct or intuition, not a single bit of my memory had come back to me. That’s why I even surprised myself when I said, “Or we can grab him now, and I can follow you on his bike.”

He turned to me. The fake leather seats groaned as he did, only adding to the humorous look on his face, “
You
can ride?”

I probably had a surprised look on my face, too. “I don’t know, actually. I guess so, though.” I tried to search my mind for any memory or knowledge of riding a motorcycle, but nothing came back to me. Somehow, though, it didn’t feel new. I guess it’s true what they say about riding a bicycle.

Thunder shrugged, “If you say so.” He turned back to the biker who was stumbling past a row of motorcycles. “Let’s wait until he finds his ride, then it’s go time.”

I nodded and wiped my palms on my jeans. Despite the cool air, I had the nervous sweats. My mind was already picturing the fight. After the brawl in the diner, I knew how brutal things could get. I woke up more than once the night before dreaming of the man I had stabbed.

Returning to the silence, the two of us watched the man weave his way through the bikes. He stopped in front of one, and at that moment, Thunder reached for the ignition. As the man swung his leg over the bike, my own biker fired up the truck.

My eyes never left the man. I was sure he would hear the truck and turn around. I feared that more bikers would come out of the bar and blow our cover. The last thing I wanted was another fight.

Thunder inched the truck forward, and I realized what he was going to do. I grabbed onto the door handle with every bit of my strength. My free hand was shaking until Thunder grabbed it and gave it a squeeze.

“Ain’t nothing to worry about, baby.”

I prayed that his words were true, even though I was panicking on the inside. Thunder turns the truck into the gravel lot and blocked the biker in. Just as he fired up his Harley, Thunder leaned over to me.

“Hope you know what you’re doing.”

I gave him my best smile, “Me, too. Me, too.”

Thunder through the truck into park and opened his door. He didn’t bother to stay quiet as he ran around the front of the truck. The veep turned around just in time to see Thunder throw a hard punch across the man’s jaw. My hand came up and covered my mouth. It was so fast and strong; the biker went slack in an instant.

Thunder through the man over his shoulder and turned to me. “You’re up. Follow me, but if there’s any danger we split up. If we do, head to the Watering Hole in a half hour. Damn, woman, we really need to get you a burner or something.”

It was almost humorous listening to Thunder talk to me like it was a normal, any day conversation. As he brought up the burner, Thunder turned away from the bed of the truck and drop the man off his shoulders. The unconscious biker landed with a hard thump that shook the truck.

 
If I had replied, my voice probably would have squeaked from nerves. I hopped out of the passenger seat and threw my legs over the Harley. It felt familiar. It felt like something I had done before, many times. Looking over my shoulder, Thunder was already forcing himself back into the driver seat. “I’ll call the boys, and we’ll get this done.”

I was already wheeling the Harley backwards as he pulled away. I dropped the motorcycle into gear and followed.

“We outnumber you four to one, so if you want to fight, you go right ahead. I just don't think it's going to end so well for you.” Thunder pushed the biker back down into the seat. He had been struggling since he came to. “Tell us what we want to know, and you get to wake up in your own bed. Shit, I'll make sure she fills your tank on the way. Now, you ain't going to get a better deal than that.”

It was hard to keep my mind on the task at hand, because watching Thunder work was so incredibly hot. Between watching him manhandle the biker and hearing his gritty words, I was losing focus.

“Kidnapping,” the bikers words we're slurred, but his eyes and mind seems sharp. “That's a new one for the Rising Sons, as far as I know. Here's my counter offer,” it sounded more like
can opener
, but we got the gist. “You let me go with ten grand in my pocket, and I forget this little mishap went down.”

Thunder laughed. God, his confidence was an aphrodisiac. I couldn't pull my eyes off of him. In fact, the other two Sons there with us watched him work, too.

“Don't waste your words.” Thunder pointed at me, “You know her, don't you, Bradley?” He had already gone through the man’s wallet and found his I.D.

“Ahh, for shit’s sake. If you're going to interrogate me, don't call me Bradley.”

I could see frustration on Thunder’s face, but he kept his cool, “Okay, what would you prefer?”

“Jameson.”

“Fine, you know her, don't you, Jameson?”

The biker nodded, and it made my heart stop for a split second. It was the first hint of a lead on my identity. I wanted to jump in and ask a tirade of questions, but I force myself to stay put.

“We know she's DEA, too. We know, because she told us. Now why don't you tell us how y’all found out.” Thunder loomed over the man. Jameson might have been drunk, but he wasn’t stupid. Thunder had called in two of the tougher Rising Sons as backup. They looked eager to lay out a beating, and Jameson could see that.

“Okay, okay.” He ran the back of his hand over his busted lip. “We own some law enforcement in Sacramento. Word came down that they were sending a narc this way, so we started doing some digging. The Sons are the new kids in town, so we been watching you pretty close. We ran plates on any vehicle—Jesus, you really fucked up my jaw, son— on any vehicle that was there more often than not.”

Jamison pointed at me, “Hers came up municipal. We put two and two together.” He raised his hands and then let them drop to his thighs. “You got me. Any other questions?”

I couldn’t stay put any longer. When I yelled at Jameson, I was every bit as angry as Thunder was calm, “Yeah. I got a fucking question for you. Why in the hell did you send two bikers dressed like suits after me? The fuck did you think that was going to accomplish? Huh?”

 
Thunder grab my shoulders and pulled me back. My heart was racing, and my hands were shaking I was so furious. He turned me around so that I was facing him, “Hey, hey. It’s all right. We got this. He gave us what we wanted to know, so let’s try and be civil.”

In retrospect, Thunder was right. In the moment, though, I was pissed, “Whose side are you on? If it hadn’t been for you, they would’ve taken me. God knows what they would’ve done.”

“I know, I know.” Thunder shook my shoulders little bit, and I think it snapped me out of things. “Patience, nobody will lay a hand on you as long as I’m around. I’ll tear this world down before I let harm come to you.”

Thunder’s words shot straight to my heart. It was the most romantic, beautiful thing I’d ever heard. Twenty-four hours with that man, and I would walk through hell with him. I didn’t notice it while I was yelling, but a tear ran down my cheek. He brought his large hand up and wiped away with a gentle care. “I’m sorry, Thunder.”

He turned back to the vice-president of the Devil’s Branch. There was a ferocious need in his voice, “Municipal record? Was it registered to an agency or just
attached
to one?”

“I don’t know, man.” Jameson’s head was bobbing. Either he was more drunk than we thought, or Thunder’s punch was harder than I thought. Either way, we were going to get clear info from him much longer. “Somebody at the club did it. Not me.”

Thunder turned back to me, a wild excitement on his face, “Your car might be registered with the DEA, but it
might be registered
through
the DEA, meaning it’ll have your info.”

I sucked in a breath that the realization. My identity was within my grasp. It was so close I could almost feel my past absorbing back into my mind. Looking beyond Thunder at the drunken biker in the chair, my hope faded.

“Please don’t tell me we have to do what I think we have to do.” As much as I liked Thunder, and as much as I was loving the biker lifestyle, I couldn’t take any more violence. It
did
something to me. Every time I watch Thunder beat somebody up or scream at someone, it got me going. It got me sexually charged, and it was so confusing. Thunder could turn me on one hundred different ways; I didn’t need the violence.

One corner of Thunder’s mouth curled up into a half smile, “What do you think we have to do, baby?”

We didn’t see eye to eye on the violence. I got that. I told myself I could live with it, too, but I was getting ahead of myself.

“Well, from everything I’ve seen, my guess is were going to have to raid the Devil’s Branch or some shit. Kidnap some more guys, maybe. I don’t know. Jesus, does somebody
always
have to get hurt?”