Page 23 of Rio's Release

“I’m going to get revenge on that fucking sheriff, his deputy, and that DA. I want to take over that fucking town.”

“Figured as much. And the girl?”

“I’m going to find her.”

“She’s that important to you, Rio?”

“She’severythingto me, Zig. Everything.” My admission hangs in the air between us.

“We shouldn’t keep Ghost waiting,” Zig murmurs.

“Right. How old is he now?” I ask.

“Twenty-seven, I believe,” Zig replies.

“So damn young,” I mutter. “He doin’ a good job?”

“So far, yeah.”

I take in a long breath and turn to the bikes. “Let’s go meet the man.”

CHAPTER NINE

Changes

Rio—

We reach Cloudcroft, and Zig turns into the lot of a chain motel just off the highway. A restaurant sits next door. They’re the only places in sight, perched on a hilltop.

We park, and I climb from the bike and stretch, feeling the long ride in every screaming muscle.

There’s a large, elevated deck out front, situated to take advantage of the view. Ghost appears at the rail, a drink in one hand and a cigar in the other. We climb the stairs to a seating area around a firepit. It’s one of those sleek designs with gas flames over glass rocks.

My eyes hit Ghost. He’s about 6’2” and muscular, with dirty blond hair cut short, a close-cut beard, and piercing green eyes. He was always a handsome kid, and it looks like he’s grown into his looks. I’m sure he’s got a line of women a mile long.

He extends his hand as I approach, and I take it. I still can’t believe he’s our new president.

“Rio. Good to see you,” he says, his voice much deeper than the last time I heard him.

“Ghost. I’m surprised you made the trip.”

“Figured you were owed some answers.” He lifts his chin to the seating area. “Sit. Let’s talk.”

I take a seat, and he pours me a glass of scotch from a bottle sitting on the table.

“Here’s to you, Rio, and to freedom,” he says, lifting his glass, and I drink with him.

He passes me a cigar, and I dip my head to light it, then stare at him through the smoke. “Last time I saw your old man was when we were pulling out of the parking lot, headed out west to come here. You were what? Seventeen? Eighteen?”

“Yeah, just a snot nose kid.”

I study the glowing tip of my cigar. “I guess a lot of things have changed since then.”

“Sure have.”

“Sounds like you've been doing good. I wish I could have seen your old man one more time.”

“Yeah, Storm thought very highly of you. Always talked about the sacrifice you made for the club.”

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