Page 32 of Truth

I laughed. “I don’t know what you talking about.”

“Anyway, I see you.”

I smiled as she drug her finger down my Yamaha. I fucked with nothing but the best. Truth loved his Harley Davidson, but I loved Yamahas the way I loved my wife. They were fierce, smooth, fast, and easy to ride with a little kick to them.

“Go easy on my baby.”

“Pfft. Biscuit’s big ass?”

She narrowed her eyes, and pouty lips formed. Shit, he was big, but he was fast with his hands and light on his feet.

“I’m fucking with you. Line us up. I’m ready to show these niggas why the Saints run these streets.”

“Okay!”

She wagged her tongue then waved at someone behind me. I looked over my shoulder and thought I caught a glimpse of someone quickly lowering their head. I tried to follow the top of his head, but he was lost in the crowd.

“Truth!” I reached over and dapped him up.

This nigga pulled up like someone had put Gatorade in his fucking tank. His beard looked like he hadn’t combed it in a few days, and his eyes looked like he hadn’t rested. Auntie My told me to watch him for her, but Truth was stubborn as hell like Gee. They all got that from Beast.

“The fuck going on?” He settled himself on his bike and revved up the engine.

“Not shit but me and this ass whupping I have coming for y’all ass,” I bragged. I had won the last three races and had plans to win the fourth.

“Imagine that.” He looked around, and like me, he was watching the crowd. “See anything off?”

“Naw.” I hesitated, processing the dude that ran off. “Yeah, maybe, but the brothers are in position, especially the OGs who’d rather talk shit than race anyway, all except Jake and Logan. I have them on each corner then near each ride and tent, even Germ and Drake are managing the flow of traffic of the crowd. Krystian and Harlem gave the other prospects their posts. Maybe the bitches fucking with us won’t take the bait and come out.”

“Or maybe they will. Let’s do what we came here to do.”

“Alright, y’all.” Teenie took the mic and announced to the crowd. “Welcome to the Saint Riderz annual race fundraiser. Now, before I have Cookie drop this bandana, remember to place your bet on the best biker! It’s not too late. Make your way over there to the table and be generous. Remember, all proceeds go to the Scotland Park Community Center. Thanks to you, Truth, and the Saints for making this event possible.”

Her ass then looked at Biscuit and threw him a kiss.

“Baby, it’s okay if you don’t win. I’ll still ride on the back of your bike.”

Biscuit blushed then dragged his hand down his mouth. He and Teenie had come a long way. I knew she liked bitches in the past, but once Biscuit put it down on her ass and made her remember how good dick was, she was all in. I wanted that for Gee if her stubborn ass would stop playing.

“Alright, y’all!” Cookie hollered after Teenie passed her the mic. “Here are the rules.”

She looked around, put her fingertip in her mouth, and giggled.

“There are no rules! Just don’t kill anybody! When I drop this, do your thing!” She held up the bandana, and at the count of three, she dropped it.

“Let’s go!”

The engines roared like a huge sea of raging storms. The smell of burning asphalt and smoke filled the air as we all took off. Truth veered to the outside and rode the side while I maintained my stance in the middle. I bobbed and weaved around Harlem and Rowdy Red and laughed. Rowdy Red revved his engine up and veered to the left while Harlem rode next to me, neck and neck.

To my right were Krystian, Rollo, Lupe, and a few others. Lupe was the shit when it came to racing. He was the one to watch. His souped up Kawasaki shot past me, his engine emitting a heavy stream of smoke. I didn’t need to see him, though. I needed to see the fucking finish line.

The course was ten blocks up, five over, then ten blocks back. Once I caught up with Lupe who’d passed me, I flipped up my middle finger and kicked my speed up a notch. My tires barely kissed the pavement as I pushed my shit harder, faster, feeling the wind and heat rip past my face. The crowd cheeredloudly, names of bikers were being called out from the rumblers, brothers, down to the kids who thought we were bad asses. We told them differently, but the bikes were the draw. They’d do anything to sit on one of them. The sound of an engine growled, and within a split second, someone zipped in front of me.

Fucking Truth. It was tough to get around him when Jake and Logan crisscrossed as if they were in cahoots with Truth’s ass. I had something for them though. I pulled back, granting myself the ability to see ahead, and when I saw a small opening to my left, I gunned my shit. As soon as I slipped through, I popped my front wheel up and barreled through the finish line.

The celebratory cheers felt good, but I had one focus, and that was to see who wasn’t cheering. I leaped off my bike and yanked my helmet off when my eyes locked in on the bitch I knew couldn’t wait to be seen with me—Charlene. It was strategy over everything and today was purely strategy since I wanted motherfuckers to think they’d catch me off guard.

She stood near the crowd anxiously with a broad smile on her face. Something was off when her eyes danced around as if she was looking for someone. A few girls, girls I guess she came with, egged her on as they nudged her in the back. She seemed to perk up, however, when she started walking toward me.

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