Page 18 of In Too Deep

Four bikes park side by side. There are two on one bike, and the one who’s sitting at the back jumps off and places his helmet on the seat.

This man has streaky, blond hair and a blond beard. He looks a little rough around the edges with a ripped T-shirt that hangs long over his jeans and a leather cut open with the RBMC logo stitched on the corner.

When he steps closer, I read the name on his cut.Shooter. He is the owner of the bike Tyler has been working on. He has a scar from the corner of his left eye to the edge of his cheekbone. Even with the beard covering it, you can still see it. When he notices me, he stops, looks over at Tyler, and then back at me.

“Who the fuck are you?”

His voice is deep and irritated.

Stretching my hand out to shake his, I say, “I’m Seth, the new owner of this place.”

He looks down at my hand, ignores it, then looks at Tyler.

“Where the fuck is Brent, Skinny?”

Fuck, what was the reason Brent left again? Did we even discuss it?

Luckily for me, Skinny answers without delay.

“Brent had to go to Oklahoma. His dad passed away from a heart attack, and he had to head home. Not sure when he’ll beback or if he will come back at all. Said something about having to move in with his mom to help her with the farm.

Shooter frowns, and for a moment, I get the feeling he won’t believe Tyler’s story. But then he looks over our shoulders and sees his bike sitting there with a new exhaust pipe.

His lips lift in a smile. “There she is.”

Striding past us, he makes his way to the bike and squats down, looking it over. Tyler follows him and explains all the work that he has done.

I leave them talking when I notice the others getting off their bikes and walking inside the garage. I recognize Vinney right away from all the pictures I’ve been looking at. He has this authority about himself and is the first to step into the garage, followed by the others. He’s tall, wide in the shoulders, and has a buzz cut. He looks like he’s in his late fifties.

Next to him is a man with longer gray hair. He’s skinny and looks like he hasn’t showered in a while. As he gets closer, his cut reads VP - Mikki. And then, as I thought, the man at the front has a cut that reads Vinney. President.

I hadn’t expected to meet them so quickly.

The other two hang back a little as Vinney and Mikki step in closer.

Vinney eyes me from head to toe, then asks, “Who the fuck are you, and where is Brent?”

“Hey, there, I’m Seth, the new owner of this place. Brent had to leave to go back to Oklahoma. His dad died.”

Trying to break the ice, I look over their shoulders and say, “Wow, now that’s what you call a Harley.” Moving around them, I walk past the other two bikers and don’t miss their names on their cuts before I approach the bikes.

“Yup, these are a man’s bike,” I explain as I walk around Vinney’s bike, looking as if I’m sizing it up.

Vinney comes in behind me and says, “What you say your name was?”

Looking up at him with a smirk, I say, “Seth. Pleased to meet you.” Reaching my hand out to him, I wonder if he’s going to accept or ignore it like Shooter. But luckily, he accepts it.

I must admit, he has a hell of a grip on him.

“So, you’re the new owner of this garage?” His green eyes narrow in on me, and I can’t tell If he’s pissed or just curious.

“That’s right. I took over this place a couple of weeks ago.”

He places his hands on his hips, and I catch sight of a gun that’s hidden beneath his cut. Trying to focus on something else, I ask him how long he’s been coming here.

“A couple of years now,” he states, looking around the garage.

“So, Brent’s back home, is he? Didn’t know he’s from Oklahoma.”

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