Page 37 of Rogue's Path
“Add that one to the list. See you soon, Peaches.”
I hope so.
Body On The Ground
Rogue
What in the world was she thinking? What was I?
“Did you know she was going to be at the Ivy?” Havoc sits down at a picnic table outside.
The cold weather discouraged most of the other people, but in full gear, we barely feel it, giving us the perfect spot to speak freely.
Choosing safety over convenience, I sit down with my back to the rest of the group. Overall, the Ivy doesn’t need all this vigilance. There’s never even been a stick up here. “No.”
“Then what was that?”
How should I know? But there was no way I was walking away from her without getting a real kiss.
“If you’re going to put her on the back of your bike, figure it out.”
Vandal and Cyclops walk up with our food.
“So did you get her name yet?” Vandal seems to have a death wish. “Because I want to invite her friends to the barbecue next month.”
“Her friends are way too old for you.” Cyclops opens up his sandwich.
“Leave it alone, Vandal.” Even hearing him talk about her makes me irritated.
“But that one with her today is HOT!” Vandal wiggles his eyebrows.
If I didn’t want to punch him, I’d probably remind him to be chill.
“I don’t mind a cougar.”
“These women are ladies.” Even if they do know how to let loose and have some fun.
“I’m not inviting them to an orgy. Just a picnic where all the old ladies will be. Give me some credit. Like the whole club wouldn’t benefit from those women coming. We need more old ladies around.”
Vandal is barely twenty-two. He’s not mature enough to find an old lady.
Havoc picks up his phone, and the conversation slows down, completely stopping when his body goes hard. “We’re on our way.”
Vandal and Cyclops shove two large bites in their faces as we all stand up.
“Rogue, I need to talk to you on the road.” Havoc tosses his food in the trash as he jogs to his bike. This isn’t good.
Will we be done in time to patrol tonight?
I slide in my custom-designed earplugs. They block most of the road noise because no one wants to be hard of hearing at fifty. Thankfully, I brought a helmet for communicating during the rounds.
We ride out together in formation. Doing it with people that you can trust not to kill you is one of my favorite things about riders.
Havoc sets an all-too-legal pace. That’s even worse of a sign. Not that we’re reckless, but what is the point in riding abike like this, going thirty-five miles per hour? Going this slow means he wants to avoid all police attention.
“Leech and Bishop were doing their rounds when they found a drug deal going down. Things got hot.” Havoc doesn’t let the stress show up in his voice.
Which means that there was shooting involved.
