Page 70 of Crew
"Oh." He paused a beat. "You know, we've never done that, except for a bike rally or something. Yeah, I'd be interested in that. It's for charity?"
"It's for charity, right?" I asked Taz.
She nodded. "The children's hospital."
Cross started laughing.
I frowned. "We have a children's hospital?" The hospital we did have was crap. Most didn't even consider Roussou to have a hospital. Sane people went to the one in Fallen Crest.
She hit her brother on the shoulder. "Yes. Well, it's two hours away and in a different town, but yes."
I spoke into the phone. "The children's hospital that's a couple hours away."
"Yeah, I heard you. I'm heading out right now." I heard a thud, then the line went flat.
"He's coming out."
Taz's eyes widened, and the excitement was building. She rolled back and forth on her heels.
It wasn't long until my cousin appeared. He'd been wearing a muscle shirt going in, but he'd put on a short-sleeved Tuesday Tits T-shirt. Both Channing and Scratch wore whatever they wanted to work. Sometimes they looked professional. Other times they looked like regular customers, and sometimes they looked like the type of customers who never went home. He'd combed his hair back too, but his eyes were twinkling at us, and I knew some of this was for Taz's benefit.
She was gawking, checking out Scratch's tattoos. He and my brother were both covered in them.
"Long time no see!" Scratch winked at me. He leaned in and whispered, "There's shit going down inside. You need to get out of here five minutes ago."
I nodded, murmuring back, "We will."
He looked at me for another moment, making sure I knew he was serious, then turned. He had Taz eating out of his hand within seconds. She was almost giggling and blushing. Cross looked ready to lose his lunch a couple times, and so did Jordan, who'd gotten out of his truck and come to stand next to me. His arms were folded over his chest, and they stayed like that until Scratch pulled out his checkbook.
Jordan grunted, touching my shoulder lightly. "We saw some different bikers headed here when we came back." And as if on command, a couple bikes roared past the alley, followed by a couple more. Then three more.
"I know."
My chest had tightened with the first warning. It was hard to breathe now.
Scratch straightened, check in hand. When a few of the bikers came to the alley, looking down at us, Scratch shoved it into my hand. "Time to go, Bren."
"Wait. What about a receipt?"
"Get her the fuck away from here," Scratch said under his breath.
Jordan moved ahead of Taz, saying, "We'll give it to him later."
"But, my car--"
"We'll come back for it later." His hands found her shoulders, and he began walking her backward, all the way to his truck.
The bikers watched us. They didn't approach.
Cross and I were almost to my Jeep, but I paused a few feet away. "You need backup?"
Scratch waved us on. "Just go. Your brother usually gets it handled. We'll be fine."
Cross glanced to me, but I did as my cousin instructed. We drove to the end of the block and circled around with Jordan's truck behind us. Zellman had jumped into the cab, and I could see Taz's hands in the air. The pink tote sat on her lap. A stuffed flamingo sat on top, and she had to keep moving to see around it.
Half the bikers were still outside. Another four joined them.
Cross said quietly, "That's an entire motorcycle club."
