As I jump onto that landing, Daisy screams,“Get down.”
The girls drop to the floor along with her. I fire at the man standing in the doorway holding a gun on them. I don’t know why the hell he hesitated to shoot Daisy. I’m guessing he didn’t want to risk killing one of the girls. That probably saved her life.
“Go! Run!” I shout as I help the girls to their feet. They’re slow as shit, probably because they’re drugged out of their minds. But screaming seems to get through to them because they pick up the pace. We’re about to hit the exit door when it bangs open.
I jerk my gun toward the opening. It’s Scar.
“We’ve got about two seconds before the cops circle back and find us,” he says.
“Throw the girls in the van,” Vapor yells from the driver’s seat. He’s parked right outside the door in the service alley.
“You’re safe. Come with me.” Daisy helps lift them into the vehicle before turning to me.“Are you coming with us?”
“No. Scar and I will lure the cops away.”
“Be careful!”
“I will.” I slam the door and pound my fist on it, letting Vapor know it’s time to roll.
Scar and I run to the far end of the alley where our bikes are waiting. There’s no time to fuck around with helmets. We hop on our bikes and burn rubber as we burst out of the alley onto the main road.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot a cop on foot. He starts yelling. He grabs the radio on his shoulder and screams into it. That’s going to bring a whole lot of heat. We have to get the fuck out of here.
We mapped out the escape route and ran through various scenarios. The plan included every contingency we could think up. I don’t even have to signal to Scar to let him know we’re going to plan B. He knows exactly when to turn.
As we screech around the corner, I glance back. Two motorcycle cops and two patrol cars—lights blazing—race to catch up. They know these streets better than we do, but we’ve got a strategy for that too. We split up exactly as planned. I take north while Scar skids into a sharp turn to the west. We’ll meet back up at the clubhouse later.
Driving like the Devil himself is behind me, I use every riding technique I know to gain an edge. My Harley-Davidson CVO Street Glide is black with green flames; not the most discrete bike out there, but I love my baby. I’ll be able to lose them as long as I don’t lay it down in a turn.
The second I hit the highway, I push the throttle until I’m flying at over 100 MPH. The cops could still catch me, but it’s unlikely because I’m about to lose them at the next offramp. I tear down it. When I get to the next road, I hit the brakes. After fishtailing through the turn, I pull into an alleyway behind a body shop owned by the NOLA club. One of their prospects is waiting next to an open bay door. He pulls it shut behind me. Seconds later, sirens fly past the shop.
The prospect is built like a linebacker, all muscle. His grease-stained tank top is stretched to the limit across his massive chest. His long hair gives him that trashy rock star look a lot of twenty-somethings adopt. He’s about that age, so it works for him. Anyone older would look like an idiot.
He circles my bike, inspecting it.“Nice fuckin’ ride.”
“It gets me where I need to go.” I smirk and get off the bike.“I’m Matrix.”
“Tank.” His grip is firm. After all the chaos of the last thirty minutes, I appreciate how it grounds me.“Want a beer while you wait?”
“Sure.”
He walks to the other side of the garage and grabs two bottles of Abita from a fridge. When he comes back, he points toward a couple of well-worn stools. After we sit, he hands me one of the drinks.
“Have you heard from Vapor?” I ask before taking a long pull out of the bottle.
“Scar, Daisy, and the girls made it back to the clubhouse.”
“How’re they doing?”
“Vapor said they’re okay, all things considered. Fuck the cartel, and fuck Lulu’s. I wish we could shut them down for good.”
“Me, too.” I clink my bottle against his.“One of these days, you will. Vapor’s a smart guy. He’ll figure out a way to destroy the cartel.”
“God willing.” Tank finishes his beer, then tosses the bottle into a huge metal trash can. The resounding racket grates on my nerves.“Another?”
“Sure. I’m going to be here for at least a couple of hours.”
“That’s tough. If I were waiting to get back to my woman, I’d be losing my shit.”