Tornado: Fury MC

Chapter 4-1

Chapter 4Chevy let out a whoop as they dismounted in front of the clubhouse — an old brick building that had once been a slummy pub. It had originally been sandwiched between two drab, vinyl-sided houses, but the house on the right had been condemned and eventually bulldozed, leaving the Fury with neighbors on only one side. And the neighbors did so many drugs that the Fury had managed a pretty good live and let live arrangement with them over the past few years.

The Fury jostled one another through the door. Chevy headed straight for the gun case and pulled out his black Ruger. Garrett reached past him for his Glock.

“We ain’t gonna need the big guns,” Durant said.

“No,” Garrett agreed, loading a new clip. “But they sure do look purdy.” He stuck the Glock in the back of his waistband.

Durant punched his arm.

Silverback entered from the back room. “Good, you’re here,” he said brusquely.

“Man, how’d you even hear about this anyway?” Chevy asked Silverback. “Garrett was just about to get that girl’s drink thrown in his face. ’Rant and me was lookin’ forward to seeing it.”

“Bullshit,” Garrett said. “She was totally into me.”

Silverback ignored them. “It’s the old patrol hut. I’m sending you three, plus Mica and Bones.”

Great. Bones was all right, but nineteen-year-old Mica felt like a tagalong kid brother sometimes. Silverback swore Mica worshipped Garrett and Durant, but all Garrett saw when he looked at Mica was a sullen teenager, sent here to make his life hell.

“Been a while since we had to do a shakedown.” Chevy shrugged into his battered brown jacket. “We takin’ any money? Am I finally getting my new bike?”

Silverback glanced at him. “Stop the deal before any money changes hands. Give both parties seven kinds of hell, and then get out of there.” He turned his gaze on Garrett.

Garrett stuck a cigarette between his lips and flicked on his lighter. “Sounds easy enough.” He lit the cigarette and took a drag.

Silverback gave him a long, hard look. “Be careful.”

Garrett blew a stream of smoke toward him. “I always am.”

“I’m serious, Cameron. Don’t get reckless.”

Only Silverback could call him by his real name and make him feel about eight years old. Garrett tried not to bristle. “Thought you said this was a simple shakedown.”

“It is. That doesn’t mean it’s okay to let your guard down.”

He didn’t answer.

“Don’t be reckless, Cameron.”He’d heard that enough at age seventeen to last him a lifetime. “You’ve got potential, but you’re too brash. Learn some patience, some humility. It’ll serve you well.”

Silverback thought he was some combo of Yoda and that old dude fromThe Karate Kid. And all right, maybe he’d been a better mentor to Cameron than both of those combined. But Cameron hadn’t heeded Silverback’s words, not at that age. He’d gotten into every mess he could find — drugs, fights, petty theft. Not just to give himself a rush, but to dare Silverback to get pissed, to kick him out.

He’d been so sure — so fuckin’ sure — that if he pushed hard enough, Silverback would snap and beat the s**t out of him. Put him out on his ass. Hell, there were a couple of times he’d half expected Silverback to march him out to the bike shed and take his belt to him, the way Garrett’s mama had done all those years. But he never had. He’d lost his temper and snapped at Garrett every now and then, but he’d never raised a hand to him. And eventually Garrett had gotten it through his thick teenage skull that he wasn’t doing anyone any favors by acting like this. Especially not himself.

Maybe that was why he wasn’t a fan of Mica — too much like being followed by a shadow of his old self. A dumb, reckless kid who thought the world owed him something. Mica had been a stray like Garrett, like most of the Fury. And while Mica was his brother, and Garrett’d do whatever it took to defend him, sometimes he wished the kid would stay out of his way.

Out on the open road, Garrett tried to concentrate on the hum of the machine beneath him. The warm steel of his gun against the small of his back. But all he could think about was Kelsey Powers.God, that smile…

Jesus, what was wrong with him? He’d never gotten sappy about a girl’s smile before. If he couldn’t bang her tonight, he’d bang her some other night. Simple as that.

Eventually the sense of freedom overtook him. The desert flashed past, deep purples and blues in the dusk. He loved it out here — nothing but scrub and cacti, coyotes and owls. Durant rode up beside him. The sand kicked up by his Harley stung Garrett through his jeans. Durant revved his engine, and Garrett revved back. They raced across the sand, Durant pulling ahead, then Garrett, then Durant… Bones and Chevy were off to the left somewhere, and Mica brought up the rear. Garrett was never happier than when he was riding with his brothers.

The Fury had run Romedo and the surrounding towns for the past twelve years. And Silverback had guarded this territory even further back than that. Romedo had once been a hotbed of corruption — cocaine, weapons, massage parlor brothels… Silverback and a few buddies had run the worst of the riffraff out of town, leaving behind only themselves and the other crims who might come in useful to them.

They’d formed the Fury — a close-knit group of six that had expanded quickly. At the same time the Fury worked their magic, gentrification was beginning in Romedo. Pretty soon, the Fury didn’t have much to worry about except a little s**t here and there from rival gangs. Jaws’s boys were still trouble on occasion, but mostly the Fury owned this town. Over the past year or so, that had shifted again. Crime was making a comeback around Romedo, and the Fury had to work hard to ensure that they controlled the crime industry here.

They eventually reached the abandoned border control hut where Silverback had said the deal was going down. Statewide budget cuts had meant a few hundred feet of border went unmonitored. This spot had been a hotbed of drug-related activity ever since someone had mowed down a section of barbed wire border fence last month. The bikers skidded to a stop. Garrett leapt off his Honda, and the others dismounted too.

They stashed the bikes in the hut and took up positions in and around the rundown building — Durant and Garrett at the front, and Chevy at the back. Bones and Mica had taken up posts behind some scraggly shrubs outside.

“Ah.” Garrett stretched out on the floor of the hut, head near the tire of his cruiser, hands laced on his stomach. “Feels like home.”

Chevy snorted. “Lazy bastard. Some stakeout.”

“Hey. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Chevy snorted again. “You ain’t ever done what I tell you a day in your life.”

That was actually true. Chevy was no Silverback when it came to commanding respect and obedience. Garrett spied a small stone near his head and batted it in Chevy’s direction.

“Nothin’ to do,” Durant said, flashing Garrett a grin. “Except wait for our boys.”