Train's Clash (Biker Bitches 4)

“Let me know if you need a break. I can come back.”

“If it takes longer than two days, I might have to. Someone told me I’m getting too old to burn both ends of the candle, and I’m feeling it tonight.”

“If she was my old lady, she wouldn’t be running around, chasing felons.”

“If Killyama was your woman, you’d be dead.”

Crash shook his head, leaving.

The waitress approached him for refills several times, each time making a beeline toward the cook tending the grill who kept eyeing him suspiciously. At four o’clock, two cops came in, doing the same thing. Train saw them running the license plate on Moon’s car when they left with their coffee.

He went to his car at five, expecting Hammer would want to get back on the hunt with the sun. Plus, he needed to hide out in case they stopped at the Waffle Stop for breakfast.

He was glad he had moved the car when Killyama, Hammer, and Jonas came out of the hotel. The three looked wide awake, talking as they made their way inside the Waffle Stop, staying inside only thirty minutes before they were on the road again.

Train spent the day following them, holding back so they wouldn’t see him.

It was getting dark when Hammer and Jonas went inside a burger joint and left Killyama outside. A few minutes later, Train felt his phone vibrate with a text message. He took his phone out to see Killyama had texted him.

He was glad she couldn’t hear him laugh as he stared at the picture she had sent him. It was of three football players, holding their helmets as they talked to whoever was on the other side of the camera.

The first message read: Missing you. Underneath, another one read: Not.

Train texted Jewell to send him the picture he wanted. When she sent it back, he sent the picture to Killyama. Sitting back, he waited for the fireworks to start.

Who took that picture of you?

I did. It’s a selfie, he replied.

Selfie, my titty.

Train waited a second to see if she was going to say anything else. She did.

You have a selfie of Shade like that?

He wondered what she would do if pulled up to that Escalade and paddled her ass.

Why don’t you find out when come over tonight? If you don’t have tickets for tomorrow, come on back now. I can meet you at your apartment. I miss you.

Sorry, lover. One of the players gave us tickets for tomorrow. Guess you’re just going to keep missing me.

Just one time he wished she would give him a small sign that she cared about him. Just one that she didn’t hide behind pretenses or insults.

Train didn’t respond and was about to shove his phone back into his pocket when she got out of the Escalade. When he saw her face, he could see that she knew he had been mad at her texts. With no one around, she had let her guard down.

An aching loneliness filled her expression, and his hand went to the door handle. He had suspected the deep emotions she held for him, but he had never witnessed them before. Now he was.

She bleakly watched a small family walk past her. The father carried a little girl in his arms while the mother carried an infant. It hit Train that she believed she would never have what that family had.

Train couldn’t understand why Killyama believed she couldn’t have her own like that. She had even told him she didn’t want to have kids.

He wanted to hold her close and ask the questions that were going to drive them apart if she didn’t learn to trust him with her answers.

Pulling his cell phone back out of his pocket, he texted her before she could go inside the restaurant.

Have fun. Text me when you get back, and we’ll meet up. Love you.

Her smiling face was worth the cut to his pride. The smiley face she texted back was as good as it was going to get for now.

Train ducked into a convenience store to use the restroom and grab himself a snack. He had just resettled back in the car when Killyama, Hammer, and Jonas came running outside the restaurant. When Hammer pulled out with wheels screeching, he knew they must have received a hot tip.

He had already been listening to the police scanner as he waited for them, so when the alert came from his phone and the scanner, his blood ran cold.

There had been an alert issued for a two-year-old boy. The child had been taken by his non-custodial father who was wanted for a parole violation. Train knew it was the same man Killyama was searching for when Cooper’s name verified by the dispatcher.

Train cussed, almost hitting a blue truck that had pulled out of a shopping lot. It blocked him from keeping a clear view of Hammer’s vehicle. Then, when the truck stopped at a yellow light, Train lost sight of them, still stopped at the red light behind the truck while Hammer had sped up.