Page 27 of Tempt Me

“You ready to head out, Savage?” Reaper asks, coming up to me as I finish my coffee and breakfast.

“As ready as I can be. Got a bad feelin’ in my gut that somethin’ is gonna happen,” I answer my President honestly. I’ve had the feeling since I woke up this morning.

“We’re goin’ there and back. We’ll be back here by the time Zoey gets back from classes,” he says as Trax walks up to us.

“I’ll be here when she gets back, Savage. Reagan and I will hang out with her until you get back. We won’t let anything happen to her,” he says, sitting down with me and accepting a cup of coffee from Rebel.

“I don’t know what’s gonna happen, but I got this horrible feelin’ that somethin’ is about to go down. I’ve never ignored my gut before and I’m not about to start now. I’ve tried callin’ Zoey and she’s not answerin’. She could be in class already or still on her way there. If she’s drivin’, she won’t answer the phone and she refuses to hook her phone up to the SUV because it’s the club’s,” I inform them as Cash, Crow, Tripp, and Rubber make their way over to us.

“We’ll keep an eye on things. Trax, you and Reagan keep tryin’ to get a hold of Zoey. Let Savage know the second you talk to her. If you don’t reach her in an hour, I want you and Jay to head to the school and find her. The second you lay eyes on her, call Savage so he can talk to her. If anyone shows up or anythin’ happens, call me immediately,” Reaper orders as I stand from my seat and grab my mask so we can head out. The quicker we get on the road, the sooner we can get the fuck back here.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to get a hold of Zoey, Savage,” Trax promises me, walking out next to me as I head directly for my bike and get on.

We all prepare to head out, starting our bikes and letting them warm up for a minute while Reaper talks to the Prospect about where he wants him to drive. We’ll all surround the van he’s in and this is the first time he’s going on a run with us so it’s important he knows what to expect and do when we’re on the road. Reaper and Cash will be in front of him with Crow. Rubber, Tripp, and I will be at the back. I’ll be behind everyone while Cash rides ahead of Reaper and Crow to make sure we don’t run into any cops doing illegal shit. Yeah, we open the fuck up when we’re on highways and shit. By having someone ride ahead, they can alert us to a police presence so we can slow back down and follow the rules of the road.

Reaper heads to his bike and gets on after securing his helmet. Throwing his hand in the air, he motions for us to ride. I remain in my spot while Crow, Cash, and him head out. Greg pulls out behind them before Rubber and Tripp pull out of the line of bikes still here. Finally, I leave my spot in line and bring up the rear of the group. Our newest Prospect has the gate open and as soon as my back tire is through, he starts to shut it.

This guy is ex-military and seems like he's gonna be a good fit for the club. I can’t remember his name right now, but I’ll learn it. This is only like his second day here so it’s no surprise that I don’t know his name yet. The one reason Reaper and the rest of us accepted him so quickly is because he’s a relative of Pound. They’re cousins and Pound had been talking to us about him before he was killed. He just got out of the military and came right here. We welcomed him with open arms the second he told us who he was.

Out on the road, I try to push thoughts of something being wrong with Zoey or our babies and focus on making sure everyone stays safe but it’s hard as fuck. For the first time, the ride isn’t clearing my thoughts and letting everything but riding fade to the background for the moment. The feeling is getting so bad that it’s making me anxious. I pull up my call log on my phone in the mount and press Zoey’s name to call her. Again, her phone rings until it goes to voicemail. I don’t bother to leave a voicemail as I hang up the call and shake my head. I really need to fucking clear this shit and not think about anything but the guys riding in front of me and meeting with our buyer so we can get the fuck back to Clinton City.

I’m glad we’re only traveling about an hour and a half away for the meet today. Usually we go much farther to meet this particular buyer and it’s always a different location. Trax hates it because he always has to wait until the very last minute to plan the route we’ll take and then upload it to one of our phones. This run, for example, was changed at the very last second once our buyer heard Reaper was going to be riding out to talk with him about shit. He made it closer to us and we were all happy about it. Now, I wonder if something else is gonna happen because of this last minute change. For all I know, this buyer could be working with Wheeler and we don’t know it. Again, I shake my head because these are the thoughts I really don’t need to have. Not everyone is helping Wheeler or out to get my girl.

I try to relax on my bike as we get the signal from Reaper to go wide the fuck open. We all speed up and make our way down the road. Today we’re not using the highway as we take all the backroads toward our destination. Greg keeps up and drives as if he’s been on a hundred runs with us. He doesn’t get too close to the bikes in front of him, speeds up when we do, and seems to be paying attention to everything around him so he doesn’t cause an accident by tapping the bikes in front of him or slamming on his breaks to the point we slam into the ass end of the van. I try to keep an eye on him as we ride to make sure he doesn’t change what he’s doing. If this is going to be how he is on runs, then we’ll need to think about bringing him on more. It’s something I’ll mention to Reaper once we get back and I’ve had time to see my girl to ensure she’s safe and whole.

We’ve gotten to the location to meet the buyer. He was already there and waiting for us. I stood guard while Reaper talked to him as the rest of the men, his and ours, unloaded the van and inspected the merchandise. My gut is still on fire with the knowledge that something is about to happen. I keep my eyes all over as I search the area for any potential threats. However, I also listen in to the conversation between Reaper and the buyer. Apparently everything he’s being told sounds like an incident that happened to his sister a few years ago. A cop was essentially stalking his sister, trying to always get her alone, following her when he wasn’t on the clock. Everything fucking matches up. The only difference is that asshole didn’t go by the last name Wheeler. The buyer hands over all the information he has on the guy he’s been searching for since his sister was kidnapped, raped repeatedly, and killed. My gut tightens with the knowledge that his sister didn’t make it and there are too many similarities in the situations for it to be a mere coincidence.

Once everything is loaded in the buyer’s van and he’s done talking to Reaper, we all get back on our bikes ready to head home. I still haven’t heard from Trax and it’s been over two hours since we left. He was going to go to the school to find my girl and it doesn’t take long to get there from the clubhouse. This isn’t fucking good.

“You gotta calm down, Savage. We’re headin’ home now. Trax called me just as we got here. He’s headin’ to the campus and will find your girl. Focus on the ride so you don’t meet the fuckin’ road and end up in the hospital or worse,” Reaper says as he stops at my bike and speaks so only I can hear him. “Trax will get to Zoey and not leave her side the rest of the time she’s on campus. He’ll follow her back to the compound and not let her out of his sight until you get back. Said he’s gonna make sure she calls you too so you can hear her voice.”

I only nod in response. No words form as the gut feeling intensifies even more. It’s never been this fucking bad before. Starting my bike, I wait for Reaper to give the signal to roll out as we all leave the same way we’ve been on the road to the meeting spot. We pull out and head back toward home on the same deserted back roads we brought here. Cash is once again up ahead and communicating with us through the comms in our helmets.

“We got a cop headin’ your way. Slow the fuck down everyone,” Cash warns us five minutes into the trip back home.

We all slow down and follow the speed limit for this area. It doesn’t take long for me to spot the cop car as it makes its way toward us. The second I spot it, it has my full attention. I know it’s not the dead man walking because this car isn’t the same color as the Benton Falls cars. However, it’s slowing down and I know that means he’s about to follow us. The only good thing about this situation is that we’ve already unloaded the shipment and there’s nothing in the van but some spare parts for bikes. We always keep spare parts in the vans we use as an excuse. If we ever get pulled over, our reason for riding as a group is that we’ve been out of town to pick up parts and we simply wanted to go on a long ride as motorcycle enthusiasts. The money we just got from the trade isn’t in the van. It’s actually in Cash’s saddle bags and he’s not going to show up if we do get stopped. He’ll pull over somewhere and wait for us. The rest of the way home it will be like he’s not even associated with the club. He’s not even wearing his cut right now. Whoever goes out spotting for us doesn’t wear his cut. I can’t remember who started that, but it’s been something we do on every run since the first time one of our guys did it. I do remember it was right after I started Prospecting though.

Sure enough, the cop waits for us to pass him before he swings around and pulls up behind us.

“Got the cop on my ass. Everyone stay fuckin’ calm and wait to see what the fuck he does,” I inform the group, including Greg.

Hawk hooked some shit up in the vans we have so the Prospects or whoever else is driving them can listen to our communication so they know what the fuck is going on without being surprised. I keep my eyes between the road in front of me and my mirrors to see what the hell this fucker is gonna do. It doesn’t take long for him to make a move though. He turns on his lights and sirens shortly after pulling up behind me.

“Lights and sirens,” is all I say as we all start to pull over on the side of the road.

I remain on the road until everyone else is safely pulled over so traffic can still get around us before I pull over and shut my engine off. None of us move from our bikes or the van as the cop pulls over and turns his sirens off while keeping his lights on. He gets out of his car as I watch his every move through my mirrors while keeping my hands on my gas tank as I’ve done since I started riding a bike. They can see my hands clearly on my tank and I’m not making any sudden moves or fidgeting while they make their way up to me.

“License, insurance, and registration for everyone here,” the cop says, projecting his voice so everyone hears him.

As the cop stands next to my bike, hand on the gun at his hip, I slowly remove my hands from my tank and lift my ass off my seat just enough to grab my wallet from my pocket and open it to grab my license and registration. Since there’s nowhere to keep the insurance and registration on my bike, I keep it all in my wallet so it’s together and I can just pull it out. Handing over my paperwork to the cop, he looks down at it to verify everything is current before handing it back.

“Where are you all heading today?” he questions when he gets to Tripp and Rubber.

“We’re headin’ home now. Had to go a few towns over to pick up some parts for the garage we own in Clinton City. Got a custom bike they’re workin’ on and it was gonna be faster to pick the parts up instead of waitin’ for them to ship. It’s a beautiful day so we made the trip there,” Tripp answers, not exactly lying about anything he’s saying. I mean, we didn’t go anywhere to pick up parts, but there is a custom bike build on the books at the garage and it is a beautiful day out to ride.

“So if I open up the doors on the van, all I’m gonna find are parts in there?” the cop questions Tripp as he nods in response.

I watch on as the cop pulls open the back doors and looks around at the various boxes and parts spread across the back of the van. With a nod of his head, he closes the doors and heads up to Reaper, Greg, and Crow. When I watch him walk back our way, Reaper is at his side and I know whatever is about to happen next won’t be good.

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