Page 2 of Bound by Wreckage
1
Nox
My Harley vibratesbetween my legs as the cool breeze of the Georgia night washes over me. The pavement glides under my tires as the machine moves me through the air. The rumble puts me at ease along with the freedom I feel every time I hop on my ride. It’s alwaysthe calm before the storm, therefore I take several moments to embrace it and let it feed my soul.
Since a young age, all I’ve ever known is riding. Gliding through the open road and watching the pavement pass by in a blur. Each time is just like the first, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. My father, Cruz, had me out on one at only a few months old. Of course, I don’t remember it,but the pictures my mother took with me smiling prove it.
I was destined to ride.
Green lifts his arm pointing to a small entrance as he turns his bike and enters with me at his back.
In this world, trust is never fully viable with anyone except for my brothers in the Ravage MC. We always take a brother’s back and never go it alone. We run on the knowledge of every singlething that happens in or around us. The more we know, the more effective we are. The more effective we are, the better we can take care of our family.
In the end, protecting and providing for Ravage is all that matters to any of us. The world could crumble, but we would remain standing firm—together.
That is why Green and I are here at the Rangers’ compound. Information. It’s allabout knowing anything and everything concerning both our allies and enemies alike.
They put themselves out there like they are a club, but they’re not—at least not like Ravage. The Rangers are a different breed. Not family, but more like business associates—or wild monkeys trapped in a zoo; I haven’t made up my mind on which is really their truth. They are a group of their own making thatRavage has had their eye on for as long as I can remember.
They don’t get in our business and we don’t get into theirs; as long as they stay out of Sumner for everything they do, we let them be. They’re shitheads for the most part, at least in my eyes. Hell, this is the first time we’ve actually paid them a visit in person.
Rangers keep a tight lock on the things they do in theirclub. That doesn’t mean Ravage doesn’t know. We do. But once again, they stay out of our shit, and we stay out of theirs. Until they say they need a meet to share some information on a man we have eyes on. Since Buck wouldn’t share shit by phone or in neutral territory, Green and I took the job to come here.
For some, being out of their element might change the field of play or even because for intimidation from the Rangers. For Green and I, this is another day at the office. We do our jobs no matter whose territory we’re in.
A large gate stands in our way as a man comes around the corner with a gun exposed. With our feet down, we anticipate his movements. I’m prepared. Mentally, this is game fucking on. That gun goes up, mine comes out and I’m a fuck of a good shot.
“Who you here to see?” he asks, pulling out a cell phone and lighting it up. Inside I want to laugh considering how close he is and the fact he’s not paying attention—that gun could be mine in seconds. Distractions are what get you killed. That, I learned from my mother, Princess. She’s a woman of her own making.
“Nox and Green. Need to talk to Buck.”
The guy has a scar thatgoes from the tip of his nose to his eye socket and if I’m seeing things correctly, that eye is fake. It’s not moving like the other, and the shine from the lights around reflects off it differently than the other.
He pulls up the screen on his phone and makes a call, no doubt knowing we were coming and being an ass while making us wait. He thinks he has control. He thinks he has power.Truth is, he has shit like every other motherfucker here—they have shit over Green and I. We give him the play though because this isn’t a battle worth fighting yet. Within moments, the gate is opened, and we are ushered through. This place is much smaller than ours. There are several different buildings along with a large one that I’d assume is their clubhouse. Green and I take it all in as we rollthrough. Every detail is committed to memory in the unlikely event things go south.
The other buildings almost look like actual homes with flowers outside of them, one even having an awning over the windows.
Definitely different and several angles to keep in mind. People can be hiding anywhere. Preparation saves while relaxation gets a man killed. We won’t relax until we exit withthe information we came for.
We kill the bikes and hop off taking in the scene around us. It’s quiet. No one is outside, but there’s a faint sound of music coming from the left where the large building is. The lights illuminate the space making it look like a war camp of some sort. To each their own. I don’t give a shit how they live, where they shit, who they fuck, or what they do… untilit touches what’s mine.
“Come with me,” scar man says, and we follow.
Buck knows we’re coming and for what reason. He said over the phone he couldn’t give the answers to our questions. That’s why we came—to make our presence known, to make them see we’re watching, and demand what we need to know. He knows better than to fuck with us. He wants to be seen, well, motherfucker, we’rehere. Ravage is fearless, dauntless, and unrelenting. Everyone knows it, including the Rangers. Bringing us into their home is his critical mistake. Green and I now have their layout. Upon later evaluation, we’ll have their every weakness sorted out should we need to take them down. Every move we make, we take everything in.
Buck should’ve given up the information on the phone. He didn’t.Now we have an even bigger advantage for the long run.
The door to the large cement building flings open, the music loud as hell. The lights are on but dimmed, and as we step in we can see why. There’s a party going on. This isn’t unusual for a motorcycle club. At Ravage, we have parties all the time too.
Except we don’t allow outsiders.
Not exactly what we had in mind whenwe planned the trip, but we’ll work with it.
After a few chin lifts, we’re escorted to the far corner of the room where a semi-circle booth is located, which seems strange to me, but whatever.
Buck sits with women on either side of him. He’s a big man with a build to match. There’s no doubt in my mind that Buck can handle himself. His wide smile comes up to us. “Nox, Green, takea seat.”
He whispers something to the girls, and they dart away. We then slide in.
