Page 55 of Biker's Conquest: Property of Rage

“Can I drive?” she asks.

Hunter glares at her so hard that she puts the helmet on meekly. Crazy ass woman, honestly.

“We should stay off the main highways. State Route 62 and Route 33 both run parallel to the old Route 66 once we get down there, and Barbarian families control a few of the gas stations and country stores. We all get one stop, except Ruger. Understood?”

Hunter salutes and puts his helmet on. My bike beats all the others for speed, and although it attracts way more attention than I like sometimes, she remains my greatest obsession. Black. Sleek. Purrs like a fucking tiger. I love this bike. I let Wyatt lead and match his speed in under a second. Wyatt accelerates ahead and I let him lead for a little before catching up to him, both of us pushing the limits of our physical safety but enjoying the thrill of the ride.

Anyone who loves riding understands why we all risk death for this bliss. So much adrenaline cranks through my body that I feel alive for the first time since I discovered Keyshawn missing.

I’m goingto get my baby back…

I knowthe woman I dragged into my basement is strong enough to survive anything. I chose her because of her strength. The way she didn’t flinch each time I brutalized her flesh. I can’t lose that woman — or that strength. She’s the only woman I’ve ever met that I can imagine having a family with.

The only comfort I have is that if Oske paid someone to dothis — maybe even that idiot Moses, Keyshawn will remain unharmed. Still, it would be in my best interests to kill whoever touched Keyshawn. Men are men… and I don’t like the idea of any man knowing how easy it is to snatch Keyshawn from my home.

I need better security. I also need Keyshawn to learn how to use a gun. I’m sure she has some type of urban liberal ideas about guns but… I’ll discipline that out of her and teach her ass how to shoot. My rage simmers and I look over my shoulder. Wyatt lingers too far behind. I slow down enough for him to catch up and keep our pace matched.

I’ll save my anger for whoever took Keyshawn. Nothing could ever really cure whatever the fuck is wrong with Ruger Blackwood. I’ll ask him for help or inspiration for what to do…

But this will not go unpunished.

Ruger passesus on our one stop for gas and smokes. I have a cigarette while Juliette and Hunter argue loudly next to me. Wyatt goes into the gas station to take a piss and talk to his second cousin working the counter — dumb ass kid just got out of jail for stealing a Dyson Air Wrap from Target for his girlfriend.

“I don’t see why I can’t go on a girl’s trip to Italy. I need inspiration for my art.”

“You ever heard of the mob?” Hunter says. Juliette rolls her eyes like he’s talking pure bullshit.

“The mob is fake, Hunter. You believe everything you see in movies.”

Hm. I don’t say anything, but the mafia is very fucking real. Especially out where Ethan is in Boston. I hope thatcrazy gambler stays out of trouble. Hunter brings up my point to Juliette without me having to say anything.

He gets stern with her, “The mob is very fucking real, Juliette. And the way your ass likes mouthing off at people, I’m not letting you go anywhere without me or my gun.”

“You can’t bring a gun to Italy and it’s a girls’ trip. Not a husband trip.”

Wyatt returns quickly and releases me from the hell of experiencing another couple bickering. I hate that their stupid fight makes me miss Keyshawn. Of course, the two of us would never fight like that. We have other ways to work out our differences…

The four of us return to the highway and Juliette still isn’t driving — Thank God. I’m glad to see Hunter can still put his foot down. The closer we get to Oske’s place, the more nervous I get. I need Keyshawn to be there…

I need to see her.

Ruger’s bikeleans precariously outside of Oske’s trailer on the rez, standing up against a wooden post covered in crow shit once we get there. Less work for us. Wyatt and I park our bikes side by side. Wyatt sighs once he takes his helmet off.

“She had better be in there,” he mutters. “This was a big misunderstanding.”

“It’s nothing.”

We can hearRuger and Oske talking by the time we get to the front door. It’s a hushed conversation, not a full blownargument. Wyatt opens her front door after a terse knock and the smell of weed wafting out of the place explains why they’re chatting instead of fighting. If you take care of Ruger, he takes care of you.

But I don’t hear Keyshawn’s voice…

“Having fun?”I snap at Oske when I enter the room. She strategically positions herself at Ruger’s right arm… like that idiot could stop a bullet.

Wyatt steps further into the room, shooting both Ruger and Oske a glare which they ignore. They’re both equally difficult to tame for their own reasons.

“Ruger explained why you’re mad,” she says. “Sit down. Smoke some of my weed.”

“Is this a game to you, Oske?” I growl at her.

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