5 Bikers for Valentines

“No. I even tried calling them to see if they were okay, but none of them are picking up. Have you seen Crow lately?”

“No. He hasn’t been in at all in the past week and a half, maybe?”

“That right there should’ve told us something was wrong,” I said.

“Do you know who got hurt?” she asked.

“No, nobody is saying anything. But you know how tight-lipped these guys all are. No one is going to spread anyone else’s business because they don’t want their own spread. It’s driving me fucking insane,” I admitted.

The good thing about the underground media in Lucas Corner was that they always had information that was pertinent for us to know at the bar. Rumors and theories were circulating on some of the blogs that the shootout occurred between the Road Warriors and the Devil Hogs; the crew that wore red leather jackets and always stirred up trouble in this damn bar. Even though there was no confirmation on that, either, all the media circuits were circulating that same information.

Which was as much confirmation as we sometimes got in this world.

Lindy and I opened the bar that night and tried to keep ourselves occupied. I could see her eyes fluttering toward the door every now and again, and eventually, I wrapped my arms around her. I had been so preoccupied with the shit brewing between the guys and me that I hadn’t stopped to consider the shit brewing with Crow and her. Granted, the man hadn’t been in here in the past ten or so days, so I had no fucking clue who this guy was, but that didn’t matter. What mattered was how this was impacting Lindy, too.

“You haven’t sworn off all bikers, have you?” I prodded her.

She shook her head slowly, looking me in the eye. “No. I don’t know how or when it happened, but I really do like Crow,” she finally admitted.

We knew how each other felt, and we needed to lean on each other because of that.

The night came and went without any of the guys coming into the bar. None of them returned my calls, and no one replied to my text messages. By the time I got home, I was a bundle of frayed nerves. I sat down on the edge of my bed and tried to block out the sounds of my mother and her boy toy in the other room. I pulled out my phone and scrolled to Adam’s number, then I tried calling him again.

And just like last time, there was no answer.

I called Jacob and Nick, but neither of them answered either. I tried Tyler, who refused to answer as well, and then I called Tanner. Tanner, with the heart of gold and the sparkle behind his eyes. Tanner, with the innocent demeanor and the chiseled body of a god. Tanner, the brother who truly enjoyed taking care of people when he could.

I knew he would pick up if I kept calling.

“Emma. Hey there,” Tanner said.

“It’s about fucking time,” I said. “What’s going on?”

“Now isn’t a really good time to talk, beautiful. Can I call you back?” he asked.

“I know about the shootout,” I said.

There was silence on the other end of the line before I heard shuffling. There were voices I couldn’t make out or recognize and panic started to fill my chest.

Maybe I needed to tone down my emotions a bit.

“What do you know?” Tanner asked.

“Only what the underground outlets are saying. Tanner, are you guys okay? I heard there were three injured.”

“All of us are fine. You don’t have to worry yourself about that,” he said.

“Thank fuck,” I said. “No one could confirm who was hurt.”

I felt tears of relief cresting my eyes as I tried to control my breathing.

“You were worried it was one of us,” Tanner said.

“Or multiple ones of you. I—”

I bit my tongue to keep myself from digging a larger hole as Tanner stayed silent.

“When you guys didn’t come into the bar tonight, I thought—”