BAKER (Devil's Disciples Book 1)(60)

A row of four Harleys was parked in front of the coffee shop. Inside, the small group of riders from a national Christian MC were having church. Unlike many of the one percent clubs that peered down their noses at clubs that didn’t claim the outlaw way of life, Devil’s Disciples accepted all bike clubs as having the potential of being equal.

My eyes scanned the street. As the song ended, I turned toward the bedroom. After a few steps, goosebumps raised on my upper arms. I hesitated, turned toward the window, and took another look.

A black Dodge Charger with tinted windows sat at the curb across the street. It was the same Dodge Charger I’d seen a few weeks prior, I was sure of it. The windows were too dark for me to see inside, but the black steel wheels that had replaced the standard aluminum alloy versions led me to believe my suspicions were correct.

He was the man who was interested enough in my life to invade my home.

Just wait, motherfucker.

I’m coming for you.

Pride took over, and I instinctively raised my middle finger high enough for him to see it. Before I lowered my hand, he provided all the proof I needed.

He pulled away from the curb and drove away.





THIRTY-NINE - Andy





The heels of my shoes clanked against something each time I moved them. I leaned forward and looked under the front edge of the seat. A red fire extinguisher was secured beneath it, but within grasp of the passenger.

Upon seeing it, I looked at Baker. “Who put a fire extinguisher under my seat and why?”

His eyes remained fixed on the road. “It came that way.”

I was puzzled. “You bought it that way? With a fire extinguisher?”

He shifted gears with the switch on the steering wheel. The force of the acceleration pinned me to my seat. “They all come with one.”

I checked my seatbelt. “Why?”

He shifted again, and then merged in traffic. “You need one if you’re going to the racetrack.”

“This is a race car?”

“It’s a street-legal race car.”

“How handy is that?” I asked, my tone sarcastic as hell. “You can go get groceries and then go race.”

He grinned. “You sure could.”

I gestured toward the rear of the car with my thumb. “The trunk’s kind of small, though.”

He laughed. “That’s the engine compartment.”

I looked behind me. “Back there?”

“Yep.”

“Where’s the trunk?”

He extended his index finger and pointed toward the hood. “Up there.”

“We should be driving in reverse.” I laughed. “That’s ridiculous.”

“It gives it perfect weight distribution.”

“What if you put a watermelon and a few steaks under the hood?” I asked with a laugh. “Then you’d be top heavy or whatever.”

“When you go to the racetrack, you make sure your watermelons are at home,” he said dryly.

He didn’t see the humor in me making fun of the car. It was cute, but I wasn’t near as fascinated with it as he was. I’d become spoiled by the Saturday night bike rides, and I wasn’t thrilled that we were driving to who knows where at noon on a Saturday in his Porsche.

After four hours, we stopped for gas. He filled the car, and we went into the gas station together to get a drink and snack.

“We’re eating at this mystery place?” I asked.

“We are. One more hour. Maybe forty-five minutes. We can get a snack.”

I grabbed a Bottle of water and a sack of Doritos. Upon seeing them, he stopped and pointed to the rack of chips. “I don’t allow Doritos.”

“In the car?”

“Anywhere,” he said. “I’ll vomit.”

“You’ll vomit if I eat them?”

“I will.” He glared at the bag. “Can’t even stand to look at the damned things.”

“Okay. Well.” I looked around the store. A display of Chex Mix caught my eye. “What about that?”

“Fine with me. Doritos are my only no-no.”

“Superstition?” I asked.

“Actually, it is.”

I grabbed a bag of nacho cheese flavored goodness. “I’ll get the Chex Mix, then.”

He grabbed a Moon Pie and a Mountain Dew. On the way back to the car, I made a comment about the selection.

“That doesn’t seem to fit you.”

“Highway food is different than any other food. When I was a kid, my aunt and I would take a vacation every summer. She thought they’d settle me down, but they never did. I’d always get a Moon Pie and a Mountain Dew.”

I paused. “What about your uncle? Did he go?”

“She never married,” he said.

“Oh.”

It was a small piece of his life’s puzzle that I was able to snap into place. Piece by piece, I was sure that one day I’d get all the answers I needed.

“We were talking about loyalty and trust earlier,” he said. “Keep in mind, with bikers, there’s nothing more important than that. Respect is the only thing that comes to mind.”

“I know I’m a laugh a minute, but I’ll be my best around them. And, when we’re not around them.” I devoured a handful of snacks and then set the bag aside. “When I decided to do this, I realized that I’d have to be as devoted to this club as you are. So, I decided that’s where I stand. It’s the only way I could make it work in my head. I Googled a bunch of stuff before I came over with those signs. I’m pretty savvy about outlaw clubs.”