Chapter 4 Looking at Bikes
Bobby’s POV
“I met him tonight.”
I looked at her. “You met your fiancé tonight.”
“Yep.”
“But you’re engaged.”
“Apparently.”
“That word’s doing a lot of work.”
“You have no idea.”
People kept moving around us at the edge of the vendor row, and somewhere behind me a bike tried to turn over three times before somebody started swearing at it. I shifted my laptop under my arm. “Okay. Back up.”
“You asked if my boyfriend was giving me trouble.”
“I remember.”
“He’s not my boyfriend. He’s the president of Iron Mesa.”
That got my attention. “Kellan Stroud?”
“That’s him.”
I glanced toward the direction she had come from. “Your dad’s been meeting with Iron Mesa since yesterday.”
“Three times.”
“And somewhere in there you got engaged?”
“No. Somewhere before that, apparently. Dad finally decided to tell me this afternoon.”
“What do you mean he told you?”
Taryn pulled one hand out of her jacket pocket. “You know how most women find out somebody wants to marry them?”
“I’ve heard about proposals.”
“Dad skipped the proposal. He told me the treaty was signed and I marry Kellan when we get home.”
I stared at her.
“Exactly.”
“Your dad arranged it.”
“Congratulations. You’re caught up.”
“Did you know they were discussing marriage?”
“No.”
“Did you know Stroud wanted you?”
“No.”
“Did anybody ask you?”
She gave me a look.
“Right.”
“What’s the treaty for?”
She started walking again, so I went with her. “Lost Coast has a route through Arizona. Guns, cash, parts, probably other shit nobody bothers putting on paperwork. Iron Mesa controls enough territory that Dad needs Kellan to keep it open.”
“And Stroud wanted marriage into Rook’s family.”
“Dad has one daughter.”
That told me the rest.
Routes like that didn’t stay between two presidents once money started moving through them. Men depended on them. Other deals got built around them. Break one badly enough and everybody started choosing sides.
“You know what happens if Rook backs out.”
She shoved both hands into her pockets. “Believe me. He covered it.”
“Lost Coast could lose the route. Iron Mesa could start hitting shipments. Other clubs start wondering whether Rook’s word means anything.”
“And if Kellan decides he’s offended enough, people start shooting at each other.”
“Yeah.”
“Dad also made sure I know almost eighty men have families depending on that club.”
“Almost eighty?”
“Unfortunately.”
I looked at her. “Do you want to marry Stroud?”
She laughed once. “No.”
“Does your dad know that?”
“He knew before he signed it.”
“Then don’t marry him.”
She stopped walking.
I stopped with her.
“That’s your answer?”
“Pretty much.”
“Just don’t marry him.”
“Yeah.”
She started laughing.
I waited until she was done.
“That simple, huh?”
“I didn’t say simple.”
“You just listed every reason it isn’t.”
“I listed what happens if your dad breaks his deal. That doesn’t mean you agreed to it.”
“The marriage is the deal.”
“That still doesn’t make it yours.”
“That distinction will be real useful if bullets start flying.”
“I know.”
She looked at me for another second, then shook her head and started walking again.
I stayed beside her. “What do you want me to say? That your dad gets to pick your husband because Lost Coast needs Arizona?”
“No.”
“That Stroud gets to decide because he signed a piece of paper with your father?”
“Definitely not.”
“Then I’m sticking with don’t marry him.”
“You make it sound easy.”
“I know it isn’t.”
She glanced over. “That’s better.”
“I’m learning.”
“Slowly.”
I looked toward the Lost Coast camp in the distance. “You going back?”
“No.”
“Want to see something that isn’t your father, your fiancé or another booth selling dead animals?”
“What?”
“The custom bike show.”
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Whether you’re going to tell me what I’m doing or ask.”
I looked at her.
She waited.
“Would you like to go look at motorcycles with me?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
“You almost ruined it at the end.”
“I’m still learning.”
The bike show was about ten minutes away, set up behind temporary fencing under rows of lights. Everything was there, from old shovelheads rebuilt almost stock to bikes somebody had spent enough money on to buy a house in a cheaper state.
Taryn stopped at the first one, a matte-black build with copper striping through the tank.
“Oh.”
I looked at her. “That’s all you’ve got?”
“Shut up.”
“You had more to say about the scorpion.”
“The scorpion had personality.”
“This has a hand-built engine.”
“Can it stab somebody with its tail?”
“No.”
“Then the scorpion still wins.”
We moved around the bike.
“You ride?” I asked.
“Dad’s.”
“He lets you ride his?”
“When I annoy him long enough.”
“That sounds responsible.”
“I know how to ride.”
“I didn’t say you didn’t.”
“I don’t have my own.”
“Why?”
“Dad thinks I’ll disappear.”
“Would you?”
“Maybe.”
I nodded. “Then he has a point.”
“Traitor.”
The next bike had a front end stretched halfway to Wyoming and a seat that looked painful from ten feet away.
Taryn pointed at it. “That thing is awful.”
“Agreed.”
“It looks like something a forty-five-year-old man buys right before leaving his wife for somebody named Crystal.”
I laughed.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
“You’re laughing.”
“I’m appreciating the analysis.”
“You’re welcome.”
A few bikes later, she stopped in front of a dark green trike with an old ammunition can mounted behind the seat.
“I like this.”
“Of course you do.”
“What’s wrong with it?”
“Nothing.”
“You said that like there’s something wrong with me.”
“You bought a seven-legged metal scorpion and wanted a taxidermied rabbit with antlers.”
“He was a jackalope.”
“He was glued together.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know rabbits don’t grow antlers.”
“That’s why jackalopes are rare.”
I looked at her. “You really believe in this thing now?”
“I believe you’re jealous because I found him first.”
We kept going.
She wanted to know why one builder had mounted an old military fuel can on the side. She complained about ape hangers. She found a plastic skeleton zip-tied behind a headlight and immediately took a picture.
“What are you doing?”
“Sending it to Cal.”
“Why?”
“He hates skeleton decorations.”
“That’s specific.”
“He says guys join an MC and suddenly put skulls on everything.”
I looked down at the skull on my cut.
She followed my eyes. “That’s different.”
“How?”
“It’s your patch.”
“And that?”
“Decorative nonsense.”
“Got it.”
Her phone buzzed a few seconds after she sent the picture.
She looked down and laughed.
“What’d he say?”
“‘Don’t bring that shit back to camp.’”
“What are you sending back?”
“‘Too late.’”
“You didn’t buy it.”
“He doesn’t know that.”
“That’s mean.”
“I know.”
Her phone buzzed again.
She read the screen and locked it.
“Your dad?”
“Kellan.”
“What does he want?”
“To know where I am.”
“How’d he get your number?”
“My father.”
I looked at the phone in her hand. “You want to answer him?”
“No.”
“Then don’t.”
She glanced over. “That’s it?”
“What else is there?”
“Everybody else seems to think they get an opinion.”
“I’ve got opinions. Doesn’t mean I get to use your phone.”
She put it back in her jacket.
At the far end of the show, a path climbed behind the tents toward a gravel overlook. I’d found it the night before when Emilio sent me to check a signal booster somebody had mounted near the top.
I pointed uphill. “There’s a better view up there.”
She looked at the path. “You asking?”
“Yes. Want to go?”
“What’s up there?”
“Lights. Bikes. Probably bugs.”
“Fine.”
We climbed.
The gravel shifted under our boots. Twice she caught herself before sliding. The third time, she grabbed my arm.
I looked down at her hand.
“Don’t.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“You were going to.”
“Probably.”
“Keep moving.”
At the top, the trees opened enough to see most of the rally grounds below us. String lights crossed over rows of tents and vendor booths, headlights crawled along the roads, and music from two different stages mixed together in the distance.
Taryn walked to the railing. “Okay. This is better.”
“Almost sounded like a compliment.”
“Don’t push it.”
I leaned beside her. “First Sturgis?”
“Yeah.”
“Thought so.”
“How?”
“You look at everything.”
“That’s your evidence?”
“And the jackalope.”
“What does he have to do with anything?”
“If you’d been here before, you’d know there are a bunch of them for sale.”
Her head turned. “There are more?”
I closed my eyes. “Forget I said that.”
“No chance.”
She pulled out her phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Making a note.”
“You’re making a jackalope shopping list?”
“I’m investigating my options.”
“Your dad is going to hate me.”
“He may already.”
“Wouldn’t surprise me.”
She put her phone away and leaned against the railing. “How long have you been with Sons?”
“Couple years.”
“You’re twenty.”
“So are you.”
“I’m not wearing a one-percent patch.”
“That’s because your math grades were probably terrible.”
She bumped her shoulder against mine. “Seriously.”
“I started helping with computer work before I patched. Cameras, phones, finding people, getting into things nobody wanted us getting into.”
“And then they just handed you a cut because you’re good with a laptop?”
“No. I prospected.”
“How long?”
“Long enough to hate everybody.”
“That sounds more believable.”
“I did the same crap every prospect does. Cleaning, errands, getting sent across town at two in the morning because somebody wanted cigarettes.”
“And El Paso?”
“You heard about that.”
“Most clubs did.”
“Yeah.”
“You were already patched.”
“Yeah.”
“What happened?”
“A lot.”
“That’s your answer?”
“It’s the one you’re getting.”
She looked at me for a second, then turned back toward the lights. “Fine.”
After a minute, she asked, “Does your president arrange marriages?”
I laughed. “Max?”
“Yeah.”
“No.”
“Good.”
“He’d probably tell somebody to get fucked if they suggested it.”
“Better.”
“Natalie would probably beat him to it.”
“His wife?”
“Yeah.”
“What’s she like?”
“Redhead. Freckles. Smart mouth. She’d probably like you.”
“Because of the smart mouth?”
“Among other things.”
Taryn smiled and looked back over the railing.
Her phone buzzed again.
She left it in her pocket.
I tapped my fingers against the rail. “How bad was dinner?”
“He ordered my drink.”
I looked over. “What?”
“Kellan ordered for me before I even sat down properly.”
“He knew what you drink?”
“Dad told him. Dad also told him I had a beagle named Molly, broke my wrist when I was nine, hate mushrooms and talked about going back to school.”
“Rook told him all of that?”
“Apparently Kellan asked.”
“That’s a hell of a lot to hand somebody you haven’t even met.”
“He also told me where I’m going to live.”
“Arizona.”
“His house. Sorry, our house. He corrected me.”
“What else?”
“That I won’t keep traveling with Lost Coast whenever I want because my place will be with Iron Mesa.”
“What did Rook say?”
“That it isn’t unusual.”
I looked at her. “Did Stroud put his hands on you?”
She turned. “Why?”
“You said he already acts like this is done.”
“Hand on my back when I got there. Arm over my chair. Then he put his hand on my knee.”
“Did you tell him to move?”
“Yep.”
“And he didn’t.”
“Not until Dad finally said his name.”
I looked down toward the rally grounds. “If he does that again and you tell him no, he needs to listen the first time.”
She glanced at me. “You planning to tell him that?”
“If I’m standing there, yeah.”
“That sounds like a fantastic way to start a club problem.”
“He doesn’t have to like me. He just needs to keep his hands to himself when you tell him to.”
“You know who he is.”
“Yeah.”
“And who my father is.”
“Yeah.”
“And what that treaty could turn into.”
“I understood all of that the first time.”
She watched me.
I looked back at her. “None of it changes what no means.”
Her mouth pulled to one side. “You’re going to be a problem.”
“Probably.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“I took it as one.”
“Of course you did.”
I pushed away from the railing. “Come on. I want to see how much money you can waste on fake animals before Sunday.”
“You’re helping me buy the jackalope?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You’re carrying it.”
“I definitely didn’t say that.”
“You will.”
“Now who’s bossy?”
She walked past me. “Keep up, hacker.”
I followed her down the hill.
By the time we reached the bike show again, the crowd had doubled. We had to turn sideways in a few places just to get through.
Taryn stopped beside a booth covered in old license plates.
“You need one?”
“No.”
“Then why are we stopping?”
“I like looking.”
“You’re going to buy one.”
“What am I supposed to do with a South Dakota plate?”
“Hang it next to the jackalope.”
“See? You get me.”
A guy backing through the crowd came straight toward her.
I caught her around the waist and pulled her toward me before his elbow hit her in the face.
“Watch it.”
He turned. “Sorry.”
Taryn looked up at me. “I had that.”
“You were staring at license plates.”
“I could’ve ducked.”
“You didn’t see him.”
“That’s beside the point.”
Somebody shoved through behind us before we had room to move, so I kept my hand at her waist and shifted her to the other side of me, putting myself between her and the people pushing through the aisle.
She looked down at my hand, then back up at me. “You’re very protective for somebody who met me next to a broken scorpion.”
“You almost took an elbow to the face.”
“I would’ve survived.”
“Still rather you didn’t.”
“You planning to fight every drunk person who walks too close to me?”
“Depends how many there are.”
She laughed. “That is not a reassuring answer.”
“It wasn’t supposed to be.”
The crowd opened enough for us to move again, but another group came through from the opposite direction. I kept her on the inside of the aisle and guided her around them before dropping my hand.
She looked back at me. “You’re bossy for somebody who just spent an hour telling me nobody gets to tell me what to do.”
“I moved you six inches so somebody didn’t run you over.”
“It starts small.”
“Next thing you know, I’m ordering your lemonade.”
“I’ll stab you with the scorpion.”
“You left it at camp.”
“I know where it is.”
“I’ll risk it.”
I started to answer and saw the Iron Mesa president patch coming through the crowd.
Kellan Stroud had one of his men with him and was heading straight toward us.
I stepped closer to Taryn before I thought much about it.
She followed my eyes. “Oh, for fuck’s sake.”
Kellan stopped in front of us.
His eyes went to my cut before coming back to my face.
“Bobby Fuentes.”
“You know me?”
“I know who Sons of Doom patches.”
Taryn folded her arms. “What do you want?”
“You didn’t answer your phone.”
“I know.”
“I asked where you were.”
“And I didn’t answer.”
His eyes came back to me.
“We were looking at bikes,” she said.
“I can see that.”
“I wasn’t hiding.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
“You came looking for me.”
“Yes.”
She shook her head. “We met tonight.”
“We’re getting married.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it’s happening.”
I watched him while he talked to her.
The same man she’d told me put his hand on her knee after she’d already spent the night making it clear she wanted nothing to do with him was standing there talking about marriage like she wasn’t part of the decision.
Taryn pointed back toward the show. “I’m going back.”
“With him?”
“Yes.”
Kellan looked at me.
I stayed beside her.
He stepped closer.
So did I.
Not in front of her. Not between them.
Just close enough that if he decided to put his hands on her again, he wasn’t doing it without me seeing it.
Kellan noticed.
His eyes moved between us before settling on Taryn.
His voice dropped.
“You should probably tell your new friend whose property he’s touching.”
