Dead Men Motorcycle Club by Angelica Siren Read Free Book Online Page B

thought of going against Dad's wishes - were pulling me strongly in the other direction. By the time I finished my last bite of burger and started in on the fries, I was already sure that no good could come of letting myself get too close to a man like that. I wanted to stay in San Viero for a long time, but I wasn't sure if I was prepared to commit myself to the life as one of the Dead Men's girls. I relaxed on the bed and digested my greasy burger, content with the decision I'd made for myself.
    Looking back on it now, I have to laugh. There I was, confident in the way only a 22-year old can be. I had my whole life ahead of me, and I thought I knew what the best way to live it was. I was wrong about a lot of things, but that most of all.
     

Chapter 4
     
     
    The next morning started out much like the day before had. In my ongoing quest to make San Viero feel more like home, I grabbed breakfast at the same restaurant. Establishing yourself as a regular in a place like that is a long, hard process, but there's no way to take a shortcut with it. Either they know you or they don't. I can pretty confidently say that, by the end of my second meal, they were starting to recognize me. I wondered if any of that had to do with rumors that were circulating amongst the town about the leader of the Dead Men and his new riding companion.
    When I'd had my fill of sausage and eggs, I headed into the garage to see what work needed to be done. Zach told me that "the boys" weren't back from whatever it was that they were doing at such an early hour, and that I should start trying to diagnose a problem with the transmission on a Chevy that had come in earlier that morning.
    I got to work, happy to have my hands inside a car again. I was still riding high on my decision to restrain myself around Cash, and that meant renewing my efforts when it came to mechanical work. I was sure that I could get the Chevy up and running in no time. Sometimes things can be more challenging than they seem though.
    I was just starting to get frustrated by my lack of progress when I heard the roar of bikes approaching the lot. From the sound of it, half a dozen members had just pulled up. Rather than the wild, joyous behavior I'd become so used to from assembled groups of Dead Men, I heard only muffled whispers and angry yelling coming from the lot where their bikes were cutting out, one by one. I grabbed a rag for my hands and went out to examine the situation for myself.
    Just as I was stepping up to the group of them, prepared to ask how the job had gone - as if I knew what the job truly entailed - the large black van that I'd seen parked amongst the cars in the lot pulled to a speedy stop just outside of the club house. Everyone crowded around the van when it pulled up, so I stayed back, not wanting to push and shove when I didn't know what was going on. One of the guys opened the rear doors and Cash stooped out. I wondered for a second why he was riding in the back of the van instead of on his bike, but that question was quickly answered for me. His right arm was awash in red, and I could see that he was holding his shoulder. He had been shot.
    I nearly leapt from where I was standing, but there were too many of the Dead Men around for me to get close to him, and over the crowd there wasn't even a way to get his attention. I didn't know quite what to say, anyway. He and I might be developing a bond, but as of that moment, we were still nearly strangers. Every one of these men had more cause to care for him and to help him than I did, but I still felt slighted and useless that I couldn't offer him so much as a helping hand or a word of sympathy.
    Cash was pushing bikers away with one hand as they crowded around him. He made his way from the van to the clubhouse door and the whole bunch of them pushed inside. I'd never actually been inside the clubhouse at this point, so I wasn't sure about the etiquette of following him in. I stood outside the door, feeling