Page 19 of Pack to the Wall

Pulling out my cell, I looked at the screen. It was Melody Khan. The Khan’s were my neighbors, an older couple, who had started this little cul-de-sac community far from the chaos of the city. They took a strong interest in everything that happened on the street and there was no way they’d missed the eighteen bikes parked on my lawn. This should be… interesting.

I accepted the call and put the phone to my ear. “Hello Mrs. Khan,” I said trying to sound cheery. Though I could hear the exhaustion setting into my voice.

“Janey, are you okay?” Her concerned voice came over the line. “We… ah… we heard a gun and… and… are you okay?”

I sighed. So, they knew. I wondered how many of our little community had seen me shoot Harley. Or at least seen me with a gun in my hand and a dead man at my feet after they heard the shots and rushed to their windows. The fact that the cops weren’t swarming our otherwise quiet cul-de-sac spoke volumes.

Whatever they’d thought of me, they had all accepted that a dead biker wasn’t worth getting me in trouble over.

“Yes, Mrs. Khan, I’m okay. I did what I had to, to protect my family and now… I’m doing my best to ah… reform these folks.”

“Oh… my…”Yeah, exactly. “Well, if there is anything you need, just let me know.” Her tone suggested she didn’t want to get involved in any of this though, and I couldn’t blame her.

“Thanks, Mrs. Khan, I will.” Actually, there was one thing she could very easily help with. Melody Khan was a bit of a gossip and I might as well start this rumor mill out the wayIwanted it to go. “Now that I think of it, Melody, there is something you can do. These folks are going to be staying with me for a few days at least. I’ll make sure they don’t bother the neighbors too much, but can you let everyone know I’m safe and have things handled for now?”

“Yes, of course.” She sounded very happy to be tasked with that.

“Thanks again, Mrs. Khan. I’ve got to go now, bye.”

“Bye.”

I hung up and sighed. I had a feeling there would be many more awkward calls or interactions like that in my future. Right now though, I had another awkward and potentially dangerous interaction to focus on.

Two bikes had been rolled back here, along with one trailer. A good-sized tent had been set up and the trailer was under the large canopy at the front. Tarps covered the two bikes.

“Bet he’s already claimed Harley’s hog,” Colt whispered to Bronn.

“No bet.” He pointed to one of the tarped bikes. “I’d recognize the shape of Harley’s Road King anywhere.”

Colt laughed. “Does anything escape you?”

“No.” Bronn had this way of speaking, efficient, concise, never more than he needed to say. He seemed so very guarded, even around Tyson and Colt, who were supposed to be his friends.

There was far more to these men than I knew, but I didn’t have time to find out now.

“Brick!” Tyson called, standing outside the tent.

It took a long moment for Brick to come out, and when he did, I looked away, because he was buck naked. “What ya want, boy?” Brick growled. Then he laughed. “Looks like our new alpha can’t even look me in the… eye.”

Tyson confronted his father about the money while Bronn stepped in front of me, shielding my view of the man and whispered. “Shifters have little modesty. We have to strip to change and we all live close, so being naked and seeing others naked doesn’t bother us. You need to face Brick down or he’llnever submit to you. Just… look him in the eye for now. Can you do that?”

I nodded, drawing myself up as Bronn stepped aside.

Tyson had just finished outlining our deal: hand over the money or we sell your bike.

Brick was livid. I managed to keep my eyes level with his, ignoring everything else. But his attention wasn’t on me. “I know this isn’t the little bitch’s idea. So which one of you dared to think of selling our livelihoods? Our bikes are everything! They’re who we are!”

“Not if we’re staying here, they aren’t,” Tyson said, facing down his father.

Looking at the two of them… I could see the resemblance now, but it was faint. Tyson was a bit taller, and Brick was stockier and heavier, a little more run to fat than his son. The older man’s hair was long and shaggy like his son, but mostly grey now. The real resemblance was in the eyes. They shared the same eye color as well as the ridge of the brow above. Their noses might have been the same, but both had been broken a few too many times. Tyson’s was still mostly straight, but Brick’s was a mess of lumps. And certainly, their aggressive auras were a match for each other.

“And we won’thaveto sell them if you hand over Harley’s horde,” Tyson said. “So really, this is your choice.”

The two of them stared each other down for a long moment, all barely restrained male bravado. Then Brick finally backed down with a laugh. “Fine, but you ain’t gonna like it!” He backed off and went to the tarped bikes.

We followed.

Lifting the tarp on the one Bronn had identified as Harley’s bike, Brick opened one of the side boxes and reached inside, digging around a bit. Tyson pushed him aside and removed everything from inside the box, dumping it on the lawn.

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