Meeting Danger (Danger #1) (7 page)

Did the members intend to kill Mann just for dating Blade’s ex? Camden sighed. At this point, he wouldn’t put anything past them.

The door opened, and Camden stood as Grizzly walked out. “Church done?”

“Nope.”

Camden gazed at the half-open door. “Long meeting.”

“Yeah.” Opening the fridge behind the bar, Grizzly grabbed a beer.

“Decide anything?”

Grizzly eyed him as he cracked open the can. “Nothing you need to worry about.”

“It’s still a ways before I get that patch, isn’t it?”

Grizzly took a sip. “Anxious, are we?”

“Somewhat.”

“Keep your head down. Do as we say. You’ll have that patch in no time.”

Grizzly walked back into the meeting room, shutting the door as Camden shook his head. If he heard the words
keep your head down
one more time, he’d probably go crazy.

He checked his watch before pulling his phone from his pocket and heading outside to the parking lot. Standing next to his bike, he placed a call.

“Hey,” Camden said once Eli answered.

“You all right?”

A creaking sound caught his attention, and Camden turned to see Romeo step out the front door.

“Fine,” Camden said into the phone. “How about you? Feeling any better?”

Eli paused for a moment. “Still at the club then?”

“I am. Can I bring you anything when I leave?”

“I’ll speak with you tomorrow, Camden.”

“All right, babe.” Camden ended the call and slipped his phone back into his pocket.

“Girlfriend?” Romeo’s voice came out of the darkness. He took a drag on a cigarette, and the tip glowed orange.

“Yeah, and she’s not feeling so great,” Camden said. “Is the meeting over?”

Romeo stepped closer and shrugged. “Just about.”

“Was it about Mann?”

“Don’t worry about it.” Romeo took a final drag from his smoke and crushed the butt under his boot heel.

Camden eased out a breath of frustration as he followed Romeo back inside. By then, the brothers were pouring out of the meeting room, talking loudly.

“Let’s play cards,” Romeo said.

Blade reached behind the bar and had just set the poker chips onto a round table when the front door opened and a woman stepped inside. Jewel was one of several groupies who hung around the members, a hard woman with auburn hair that fell to her waist and a sleeve of tattoos down her right arm. Camden guessed she was probably only thirty but looked more like forty, especially in the harsh light of day.

Jewel raised a brow when she spotted Camden and walked over. “We haven’t gotten to spend any time together.”

When she trailed a finger down his chest, Camden took a step back. “Hey. I’ve got a girlfriend.”

She grinned. “So does Beck, but that never seems to stop him.” She gave Camden a smirk before moving across the room to sidle up against Beck.

Camden took in a breath as he watched. Forget background checks; it was blood tests the club should be concerned with.

He moved to the poker table, took a seat, and looked around at the brothers. Why was it that no one ever brought up drugs around here? The men seemed content with just drinking beer, playing cards, and taking whatever the groupies had to offer.

“I need something harder than liquor,” he said. “We got anything?”

Grizzly looked up. “What’d you have in mind?”

“Weed? But I’m up for anything.”

“What were you in the pen for?”

Camden took three twenties out of his wallet and exchanged them for chips. “Meth.”

Grizzly shook his head and frowned at his cards. “Be grateful prison sobered you up. You don’t need to get back into that shit.”

Camden looked at the faces surrounding him. No one was objecting to Grizzly’s words. Strange, considering how this club was supposedly funded.

• • •

By the time Camden got home that night, it was nearly morning. He shut the door of the tiny apartment he’d rented and gazed up at the ceiling. The people who lived above him were shouting at each other again.

As he tossed his jacket onto the couch, he shook his head. What a dump this place was. The dim light on the ceiling illuminated dingy walls and a dent in the bedroom door. The door had frame damage too. At some point, it had been kicked in.

He lifted his foot onto one of the rickety kitchen chairs and lifted his pants leg to remove his Glock 23 from his ankle holster. Being a “felon,” he shouldn’t be able to get a concealed-carry permit, and although his new brothers weren’t exactly law-abiding types, Camden had decided it was safer to keep his weapon under wraps.

When he walked into the kitchen to get a drink of water, he found a mouse running in circles on the floor. Camden took a step forward and it scurried under the refrigerator. Could this place be more disgusting?

Then again, it was all relative. Compared to his jail cell, it was a palace. And what’s more, it was a realistic place for him to be living, given the measly salary the Disciples paid him. Once he received his first paycheck, he’d rented this place and gone to a secondhand shop. There he’d purchased the table and chairs, a couch, a battered TV, and a queen-sized bed. They were well-used but dirt cheap; otherwise, he never would have been able to afford them without using task force money or his own personal funds.

He glanced at the time on his phone, and after a moment of debate, dialed Eli. The running joke among the team members was that their director never slept.

Eli sounded wide awake as he answered. “How did the rest of the night play out?”

Camden filled him in on the altercation he’d witnessed at the bar. “There was an emergency meeting afterward, but I have no idea what the resolution was.”

“Still no talk of the heroin operation?”

“None.” Camden sighed. “It’s all about cards and women with those guys. The good news is I just found out we’re going on a run tomorrow, a recreational trip to the Poconos. We’ll be meeting up with some other chapters, so hopefully Cobb will be there. Maybe something will spill out then.” He provided the details about the weekend’s itinerary that he’d learned during the card game.

“You take care of yourself, Cam.”

“I will.”

Camden tossed his phone aside and dropped onto his bed for a few hours of sleep before he had to get up to join the brothers on the run. Hopefully tomorrow—no,
today
—would be the day he finally learned something useful.

Newburgh, New York

At the roar of the approaching motorcycle, Autumn’s pulse spiked. It never failed. Whenever she heard Butch’s bike pull up to the house, a sick feeling would come over her. She’d spend the next minutes wondering what kind of mood he was in. Then he’d come in and she’d be able to gauge how the rest of the night would go.

But since the night he’d choked her, her dread of being around Butch had grown even worse. Obviously, he hadn’t wanted to kill her that night, so what had been his intention? To punish her? Terrify her? He’d certainly succeeded. The past several weeks had felt as strained as those when she’d first lived with him.

The front door swung open and Butch strode in whistling. As he shrugged off his riding gear, Autumn tried not to stare. Would the fact that he was in a rare good mood mean they’d have a peaceful night?

“We’re going on a run this weekend.”

She gazed at him. “To where?”

“The Poconos.”

Autumn thought of Kristen. Would she be going? It was unlikely, especially since the weather was still a bit cold for riding. Disappointment rose as she followed Butch into the kitchen.

“When will we leave?”

Butch uncapped a beer. “First thing in the morning.”

Autumn walked to the counter, picked up a plate, and glanced out the window. “I’ll pack for us after dinner.”

Between the cold weather and Butch’s moods, this past winter had seemed endless. She’d felt even more trapped than usual. Now spring was officially here, blooms were visible on the trees. It would be nice to get out into nature and the fresh air . . . even if it was with Butch.

• • •

The next morning, Autumn strapped on her helmet and looked up at the sky. It had rained overnight but the sun was out now, drying the wetness and providing some welcome warmth.

Because Butch had slept late, they were getting a late start on the run. It was past ten o’clock now as he locked up the house. Autumn climbed onto his bike, breathing in the fragrance of cherry blossoms.

She grabbed hold of Butch’s waist as he climbed on and started the bike. Once he turned out of the long driveway, he opened up the machine. Autumn closed her eyes as the wind blew hard against the face shield of her helmet.

It had been months since she’d been on Butch’s bike. That winter they’d mostly used his truck for the few outings and shopping trips they’d taken, since the weather was too cold and the roads were often icy or covered with snow. He was good on a bike, and riding was pretty much the only thing she enjoyed doing with him.

She drew in a slow breath. With the soothing noise of the bike drowning out everything else, it wasn’t too hard to put her troubles out of her mind.

Butch made a right turn and they passed an old Victorian house that Autumn had always liked. The couple who’d bought it the previous year had already done a lot to fix it up. It looked nothing like the dilapidated structure it had once been. Rotted siding had been replaced and a new roof put on. But it was the new paint job that had really made the difference. The green color and contrasting creamy trim made the house look bright and cheery.

The owners were outside now, taking advantage of the nice weather to work in their yard. The man pushed a mower while the woman weeded the front beds. A pang hit Autumn’s chest at the thought that this was what a normal couple looked like.

As the roar of Butch’s motorcycle approached, the woman looked up. Her face immediately pinched into a frown at the sight of them, and Autumn couldn’t blame her. Butch on his motorcycle was an intimidating sight, but get the club together on their bikes and it was even worse. They were sure to get a lot of stares that weekend as they rode through the small towns they’d pass on their way to the Poconos.

Several minutes later, Butch pulled into the clubhouse parking lot. The brothers stood waiting outside, their bikes lined up in a row, gleaming in the sunlight with bags strapped on.

Autumn looked around and breathed in a sigh of relief that none of the club women were there. It was always awkward being around them. Butch thought she was too stupid to realize what was going on, but from day one she’d known that he slept with them.

With the exception of worrying about STDs, though, she didn’t care who he slept with. She’d been labeled as his girlfriend but she’d never felt that way. They had no emotional connection and never would.

• • •

Hours later, the group was riding up the mountains with Butch and Autumn in the lead. They’d just reached a level stretch of highway when Butch made a hand signal to the brothers behind him before he turned into a lot filled with motorcycles and men wearing riding gear emblazoned with Wicked Disciples patches.

A crash van with a Pennsylvania license plate was parked alongside the bikes. A member of the Scranton chapter had to be having trouble. As Butch set his kickstand down and got off his bike, Autumn took off her helmet and smoothed down her hair, but she stayed where she was.

The first time she’d been on a run with Butch, she’d made the mistake of speaking to a member of the Connecticut chapter. That innocent conversation had earned her several bruises from Butch. He didn’t like her speaking with the brothers much, especially those from another chapter. He didn’t like her speaking to anyone, in fact.

Hale and Kristen seemed to be the only exceptions, and Autumn suspected it was because they weren’t part of any MC. But if it meant peace with Butch, then she was fine with keeping her distance.

Her gaze went to the pine trees surrounding the lot. The nature around them was magnificent. Once they reached the cabins, Butch would be busy. Maybe she’d be able to take a walk in the woods.

She turned her gaze back to the brothers from the Scranton chapter. She recognized all but one—a handsome younger man with light brown hair that nearly touched his shoulders, and a short, neatly trimmed beard. He was crouched down, attaching a bike ramp to the side of the van. A box of tools lay in the dirt beside him. Given his age, he was probably a prospect.

She was about to turn away when he looked up. Autumn sucked in a breath as he did a double take and his gaze latched onto hers. She froze, unable to stop herself from staring back.

Her immediate impression was this man was different from the other brothers. There was something about his eyes, something about his intense golden gaze that sent a rush of awareness hurtling through her body. The look he’d sent her was curious but warm, with a kindness that she wasn’t used to seeing directed toward her.

Rattled from the intensity of her reaction, Autumn finally broke eye contact.

Scranton, Pennsylvania

“You’re not riding,” Beck had told Camden that morning. “You’re driving the crash car.”

Camden had gazed at the white van with dismay—the Wicked Disciples’ version of AAA. The crash car followed the brothers on runs in case anyone broke down, offering repair assistance to those who needed it, and a lift home for any bikes that couldn’t be repaired on the spot.

He’d been looking forward to riding his own bike, and was disappointed not to be riding on his first run with the brothers. But he kept his feelings to himself and took the keys to the van from Beck without a word.

Twenty minutes ago, he’d been put into service. Romeo had gestured to him for help before pulling into this lot. Camden parked the van near where Romeo had parked his bike and walked over.

“What’s going on?”

“Bent my frame somehow.”

“You hit something?” The frame of Romeo’s back wheel was twisted.

“Pothole.”

Despite his efforts to straighten the metal for the past fifteen minutes, Camden had been unsuccessful. He finally had to acknowledge that the tools in the van weren’t going to cut it for this repair.