Train's Clash (Biker Bitches 4)

“Tell me one,” Jonas requested as they got back in their vehicle.

“I can’t think of anything off the top of my head.”

“You can’t think of one joke? How many times have you been out?”

Killyama shrugged. “Three times. I wouldn’t call them dates, though.”

Hammer stopped the SUV in the middle of backing up, turning to stare at her. “What would you call them?”

“I don’t know. Boinking? Fucking? Take your pick.”

Hammer slammed the gearshift into neutral, raising his voice so he was shouting into the confined space. “I raised you better than that! The least he can do is buy you dinner.”

“I wasn’t hungry for food.”

“Hold me back, Jonas, or I’m going to give her the spanking I should have given her when I caught her smoking.”

“Try it. You didn’t do it then because you knew I would tell Mama. If you don’t quiet down, I’m gonna tell her you’ve got a crush on her.”

Hammer’s face went white. “I do not.”

“Yeah, right. She’ll get that sad look on her face and give you a long speech on how much she still loves my father, and then you get sad.”

“I have never considered her anything other than a friend, which is more than I can say for you and Train. You want to step into a minefield, go for it. Just don’t expect me to pick up the pieces when it explodes. You’ve always had to learn everything the hard way.” Hammer put the gear back in and backed out. He was closing her out, showing her she had hurt him.

Regretting her words, she tried to make amends. “You know I won’t say anything to Mama.” It was as close to sorry as she was going to get.

He nodded.

Jonas remained silent, too. She hated it when they were mad at her.

She deliberately popped her gum. When that didn’t get a reaction, she did it again.

“Jonas, taze her ass.”

“What’d you say?” He turned his head, popping his own gum.

Hammer turned the air condition up to high. “I’m in fucking hell.”

9

“That’s the last of the packages.” Train dropped the order he had finished boxing up into the cart that Rider would mail out on Monday.

“Whoop! Whoop! We’re done for the week. I’m outta here.” Ember cleaned her table off, hightailing it out of the factory so fast that Train winced at the sound of the slamming metal door.

Rider grinned at him, hopping onto a table as he waited for Train to clean up his table. “I wonder if she’s more excited about it being Friday and she has the weekend off or the party tonight.”

“The party. No one’s had time to do anything but eat and sleep all week since we had to get the orders out.”

The orders they had been working on all week had left two hours ago in their own truck, heading to the airport in Lexington. The supplies had filled all their waking hours, knowing it was going to a country that had suffered a catastrophic earthquake.

“Don’t know if I’m going to make it tonight. I’m tired as fuck.”

Train was surprised. Rider had never missed a Friday night party. The brothers always joked how he would fuck when he was half-dead, something he had actually done once.

“You’re never too tired to fuck. Something wrong?”

“Today’s Gavin’s birthday.”

Train had been busy, but he hadn’t forgotten. This morning, he had gone to the cemetery where Gavin had been buried. He had seen Viper leaving as he rode onto the property Cash owned.

Rider had been just as close to Gavin as he had. They both had lost a good friend because of Memphis. Even now, they couldn’t believe how a man they had considered a brother had betrayed them. Memphis had fooled them all. The Last Riders had taken the betrayal hard. Each of them would give their lives before another one would betray the club again.

Train wrapped an arm over Rider’s shoulder when he jumped down from the table. “Come on; Sasha told me she ordered a new outfit for tonight. You’ll get your stamina back when you see her in it.”

“The one she let me pick out?”

Train hid his grin. The box she had carried up the steps had been big enough that it probably contained several outfits.

“Yes.” He would stop by her room before he went to his own and make sure of it.

They raced up the steps to the clubhouse, taking the one hundred plus steps two at a time. Neither of them was out of breath. They used every opportunity to work out. Keeping their reflexes and body in shape was a way of life with them. Especially since some of the brothers contracted out to the military when their expertise was needed. He was one of them. Shade was another.

There wasn’t a machine he couldn’t fly in the sky or on the road. That was why he liked working on engines. If he or one of the brothers’ lives depended on what they were riding on, it had to work.