Breaking Black Read online

  Cheyenne nodded, satisfied with Randy’s monologue. She slumped down on the couch next to Averi as Randy departed the room, locking the door behind him.

  “So I guess we’re sitting ducks. The damsels in distress are kept in the highest room of the tallest tower,” Cheyenne griped as she rolled her eyes.

  Averi smirked just slightly as she remembered what she had purchased prior to her run-in with Rex.

  “I don’t think so. We’re safe up here, no doubt, but if they find themselves in trouble, we’ll have a bird’s eye view. Go look in that bag over there…” Averi said.

  “We’ve got the baby, though…” Cheyenne said with wide eyes.

  Averi waved her off, “Spoken like a true liberal. If push comes to shove, we will defend our guys. Matthew will be safe. I’d never put him in danger.”

  “You can tell that you’re related to my husband,” Cheyenne admitted with a smirk.

  “Oh?” Averi asked as she wiped her eyes. “Is it our tempers? Or our fabulous collection of guns?” Averi asked facetiously.

  “No. None of that… Family first,” Cheyenne said with a smile. “Family is very important to you.”

  “It’s the most important thing,” Averi admitted. “We had our family stripped from us. Shelly was like a sister to me.”

  “It’s horrifying to me… That could have been one of us…What if we had one of the babies?” Cheyenne said with watery eyes.

  Cheyenne’s meaning was not lost on Averi. Averi smiled faintly.

  “I’m proud of both of you… What is the baby’s name? Randy told me what was going on briefly before he left for the hospital.”

  “Her name is Samantha Rae Ford. She is in the NICU but she’ll be coming home with us once she’s healthy enough. I just hope the pressure isn’t too much for your brother,” Cheyenne admitted.

  “Randy’s come a long way. You both have,” Averi admitted. “I am sorry about your mother.”

  “Yeah, me, too…” Cheyenne said somberly as she looked to the floor. “But like Randy said, we lost her a long time ago.”

  “You shouldn’t beat yourself up. You tried to save her… Chey, you’re the reason why Samantha is alive. That was a really selfless thing you did back there. Whatever happens, though, Colt and I will be there to support you and Randy. I think you know that by now,” Averi said firmly.

  Cheyenne began to fill up with emotions.

  “Thank you. It’s all just so sudden. Randy is taking it well. We have to go down to the courthouse tomorrow to file the paperwork. These bastards will not stand in my way.”

  “They guys will take care of the riff raff, and you and Randy will go and file the petition,” Averi said, sounding confident.

  A faint smile grew across Averi’s face. “And I can’t wait to meet Miss Samantha Rae.”

  Chapter Twelve

  ID

  Tim slammed his foot on the gas pedal as he, Colt and Danny sped down Monument Avenue in Randy’s truck. Daughtry wailed from the speakers as Tim swerved onto Clayburn Road, the tires squealing as they went.

  “Cut the noise!” Tim yelled as the radio transitioned to a new song.

  Colt flicked the power button, turning the radio off. He casted a nervous glare to Danny in the rearview mirror. Shelly’s brother was nearly as on edge as Tim was.

  “What do you think, Colt? Barreo Boys?” Danny asked.

  “Doubtful,” Colt said as he shook his head. “They have nothing against us. The Barreo Boys benefited in the drug trade when the Devils were arrested. This was someone that knew Shelly. Randy said someone called her cell phone during the fight. Someone said her father was home. This is someone we know.”

  “Who, though?” Danny asked. Suddenly, Danny’s cell phone began to ring. “Shit, who the hell is this?”

  “What’s the number?” Colt asked.

  “Unlisted,” Danny said sounding stressed. “Hello?”

  Tim and Colt listened as Danny talked on the phone.

  “Yeah, I’m Dan Carmichael… I’m her brother. No, I’m it. Our mother passed away years ago. Our father is in critical condition at St. Catherine’s. Car accident… Not married. She has a boyfriend who she lives with. I’m in the car with him now… Okay, I’ll be right there.”

  “You alright?” Colt asked.

  “Fuck! They want to me to ID her,” Danny said as his nerves rattled loose.

  The truck came to a jarring halt outside of Police Headquarters. There was no warmth to be found in Tim’s eyes. Colt sighed heavily as he followed his brother-in-law through the double doors.

  ***

  Shawn’s legs ached as he pushed himself towards Route 1. He had walked over four miles and the Devils had long left him in their dust. If he could just find a pay phone, he could call to warn his family.

  He kept repeating the license plate number in his head. He just needed to get to Route 1. He knew that emergency call boxes littered the highway. There was just the matter of being spotted. Every time a car approached, Shawn dropped to the ground on the median that separated the two lanes. He could still hear the helicopters, but they seemed to be focusing on the wooded area that wrapped around the prison.

  Pushing his worry over the helicopters from his mind, Shawn resumed his memorization of the license plate number. Through and through, even in an orange jumpsuit, Shawn Hall sought to uphold the peace and order of Oakeley.

  ***

  “Listen up!” Randy yelled over the crowd. “We’re playing the waiting game… None of us want them here, so were blocking them from entering. Build a line across the road and don’t let the fuckers in! If you need a gun, I’ve got you covered. Spread the word for the locals to keep clear of Monument Avenue tonight! I don’t want any innocent bystanders getting hurt. We’ll meet at Harlan’s at night fall! Questions?!”

  ***

  “Daniel Carmichael?” the Medical Examiner, Roger Saco, called from a pair of white double-doors. He wore an unreadable expression on his face.

  With a heavy feeling in his chest, Danny rose from his seat, leaving Colt and Tim in the lobby. As Danny passed through the doors with slumped shoulders, Tim’s face fell into his hands. Colt slapped a hand on his brother-in-law’s back in a show of support, but instead it seemed to rally Tim. Seething, Tim’s eyes drilled to the floor, focusing on the linoleum tile that resembled the shade of limes. Anger, pain, sadness and a supreme need for vindication rushed through his body. As Colt removed his hand from Tim’s back, Tim shot up from his seat causing Colt to flinch. Without a word, Tim barged out of the lobby and into the bright light of day. Colt rushed to keep up, but he couldn’t match Tim’s stride.

  “Hold on, Tim!” Colt yelled. “Don’t you want to wait to find out?!”

  “It’s her, Colt. No one has seen her since last night. It’s her. I’m gonna find out who did this and I’m gonna snap his fucking neck!”

  Without another word Tim climbed into his brother’s truck and slammed the door. Rolling his window down, Tim yelled at Colt who was still gaping at him from the sidewalk, “You comin’ or what?!”

  Colt nodded, as he ran to the passenger side of the vehicle. Getting in, he gave one last look at Police Headquarters before Tim slammed his foot on the gas pedal.

  ***

  Officer Jennings walked into the District 6 police station as a crowd gathered around a TV screen in the Sergeant’s office.

  “What’s going on?” he asked Officer Parker who was staring intently at the screen.

  “They interviewed the brother. Shelly Carmichael was last seen at the Alamo Dome. They pulled this footage of the parking lot last night.”

  Jennings watched the screen in horror as a man in a white Lexus forced a woman that matched Shelly’s description into the car.

  “License plate number GLV6734,” Sergeant Harrison barked.

  “I’m running it, hold on,” Parker replied.

  “It belongs to Preston Anderson. He has an address right out of town.”

  “Run his
record. I recognize that name,” the Sergeant pressed.

  “He’s connected to the Red Skull MC… Served time on drug charges. He owns the building that the Red Skull MC calls HQ.”

  “Where is it?”

  “Pembroke… Just outside of town.”

  “Red Skull… isn’t that the club that was vocal in their support of the Devils?” Jennings asked.

  The Sergeant replied, “The same. I’ll call this in to Pembroke.”

  ***

  A helicopter whirred overhead as Shawn slid into a storm drain that ran under the median of the highway. As the darkness swallowed him, he realized he wasn’t alone.

  ***

  “Where the hell are we going?!” Colt demanded to know as the truck crossed the border of Oakeley.

  “I’m willing to bet that these assholes know something…”

  “Red Skulls… What the fuck,” Colt griped.

  “The guy that owns this club… Danny was telling me he was the source for the Devil’s heroin and cocaine supply. I’d say he had something to lose when the Devils went down.”

  “The Skulls do back up the Devils… it’s like a sister club,” Colt admitted.

  Tim hopped the curb in the truck, barging towards the entrance. Swinging his door open, Tim charged towards the front door.

  “Open up!” Tim yelled.

  Colt ran behind Tim and urged him to get back in the truck.

  “This club is two-hundred strong, what the fuck are you thinking?!”

  Tim swung on his heel and gave Colt a lethal glare. “I’m thinkin’ I’ll level the fucking place! OPEN THE FUCK UP!” Tim screamed as he banged on the door with his fists.

  After several minutes of pounding on the door, no one was answering. Colt had gone around to the back of the building.

  “Nobody’s here… C’mon. Let’s keep an eye out around town. There’s some other places they could be hiding. I know you want to get ‘em. We have to do this smart though.”

  Colt climbed back into the truck and watched as Tim kicked the dirt and sent his cell phone flying into the brick wall of the Red Skulls’ MC Headquarters.

  ***

  “Who’s there?!” Shawn demanded to know as he carefully walked towards the noise.

  A voice cleared. The hair on Shawn’s arm stood on end.

  “Name’s Griff. This spot’s taken.”

  “Excuse me? Spot?”

  “Am I speaking Korean? Spot’s taken!”

  “I don’t want your spot, I’m just waiting for those helicopters to pass over.”

  “You from the prison?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You can wait… but as soon as those choppers are gone, you gotta go.”

  A match lit up an old man’s face.

  “Got any money?” Griff asked.

  “Maybe,” Shawn replied again.

  “Hmm…”

  Shawn caught a brief glimpse of his surroundings. Griff had himself a treasure trove of crap in the tunnel. There was a shopping cart with food, a sawed off shot gun with three boxes of ammo, a small pile of clothes and a pair of worn out shoes.

  “I’ll give you what I have for some clothes and that gun.”

  “That all depends on what you have…” Griff said skeptically.

  Shawn laughed dryly. He pulled all he had out of his shoe. Averi had given him a $100 bill for the canteen six months ago, and he never spent it. He knew he would need it someday. That day had come.

  Shawn flashed the greenback at the old man, then tucked it away in the palm of his hand.

  “No games. You give me those jeans, that shirt, the shoes, the gun and the ammo. I’ll give you a hundred bucks.”

  “Where’d you get that money from?”

  “Family. Do you want it or not?”

  “I’ll need a favor, too.”

  The old man gazed at Shawn with a suspicious look on his face. After a moment, his greed won over his skepticism.

  “Deal. Pay up first.”

  With a smile on his face, Shawn slapped the bill into Griff’s hand and he collected his things from Griff’s cart.

  ***

  Randy’s truck waited at a stop light as Tim slammed his hands on the steering wheel. Tears of rage flooded his eyes. They had checked everywhere, and came up empty- handed. They could find no sign of the Devils or the Red Skulls anywhere. They were on an old dirt road that Colt knew well. Racine Avenue wound the outskirts of Oakeley.

  “Pull up to number 88,” Colt said.

  “Why?” Tim asked with attitude present in his voice.

  “Just do it,” Colt said with suspicion lacing his voice.

  Colt looked out the passenger-side window as the tiny house he lived in with his mother and father for the first three years of his life came into view.

  “You know this place?”

  “Vaguely,” Colt admitted. He swung open the door of the truck and stepped out. He immediately regretted doing so. The front door of the house swung open as Gunnar Rhoades stepped out.

  “Speak of the Devil,” Colt barked through gritted teeth.

  “Lookey at what we have here, boys! Traitorous son of Black Horse!”

  From the back of the house, the storm cellar and the front door, devils flooded the front yard.

  Colt smirked. This is exactly what he wanted. He laid the bait, now to lure the Devils into their trap.

  “Glad to see you like my piece of shit house… Clean up while you’re there. Haven’t stepped foot inside since I was a baby.”

  Gunnar Rhoades raised his gun in the air and shot it to the sky. From behind him stepped Preston Anderson. Tim’s eyes lit up like a roman candle. Colt wasn’t foolish though. He knew when he was in over his head. Backing up to the truck, Colt smiled in the faces of the luring men. He could recognize several Red Skull bikers, too. Too bad they wouldn’t survive the night.

  “Well, fellas. It’s been fun,” Colt said slyly as he turned and ran towards the truck. “Slam it, Tim!”

  Tim did as he was told even though he wanted nothing more than to take every single one of them out. He didn’t have enough ammo in the truck, even if they wanted to. As the truck pulled away, a greasy smile creased Gunnar Rhoade’s face.

  ***

  “Hands up!” a prison guard yelled as he aimed his rifle at the man wearing the orange jumpsuit.

  The escaped prisoner bent down in the middle of Route 1 as the guards emerged.

  “Shawn Hall?!” the guard yelled, but the man did not answer.

  “Hall! Answer me!”

  But instead of replying verbally, the man in the orange jumpsuit smiled as he peered behind him.

  “Nope. Just Griff Henshaw… and I ain’t never crossed the law in my life.”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chase

  A deep growl roared from the back of the house where Colt McClain lived as a baby with his mother, Jessa, and his sadistic father, Tom “Black Horse” McClain. There was nothing sweet about this home. Situated just outside of Oakeley, it was the place of Colt’s worst nightmares. A place where Jessa’s strength and courage was tested every second of her life and now those loyal to Black Horse claimed it as their own. Two dozen motorcycles ripped from the driveway chasing after Tim Ford and Colt McClain in a black pick-up truck.

  It was no wonder the Devils were pissed. Black Horse was gone. Jimmy was dead. Their HQ was leveled to the ground, and while the Devils rotted in jail, Tim Ford had stepped back into the ring as an MMA superstar. Colt’s businesses were flourishing and his family was growing. Equally as infuriating, Colt, Randy and Tim still drew breath while forty-three of the Seventy Devils were dead.

  Preston Anderson was equally pissed. Though he owned the headquarters for the Red Skulls, Preston was equally vested in the Seventy Devils MC. He lost six hundred thousand just on the drug supply that was seized by police from the Seventy Devils Headquarters. Preston, who was a businessman who came to Oakeley just two years ago from Reno, Nevada, had his hand in many businesse
s, both legit and otherwise. He wasn’t a man that you wanted to cross. What he didn’t consider was that he’d piss off a man that was even more dangerous than he was.

  Tim Ford.

  It was just as Randy said. The Devils were attacking the family members of the major players of the Ranch brawl. The Devils weren’t used to losing a fight, and now all bets were off. No one was untouchable.

  Averi was a moving target, and she was never alone. Colt drove her to work in the mornings, while Randy picked her and Matthew up in the afternoons. It was a rare occasion such as this afternoon when Averi was alone in town. Rex Lynch had a chance encounter. One he wished he hadn’t, because now he had three bullets in his shoulder.

  Cheyenne was becoming an endangered species in Oakeley. She rarely went into town and when she did, Randy was almost always by her side. They were not easy women to get to. Colt and Randy were overprotective for a reason. Tim was more laidback, and now he hated himself for not doing more to protect Shelly.

  Preston Anderson aimed to send a message, and he did so loud and clear. The Seventy Devils were not dead, and they would collect on owed debts. Eye for an eye, life for a life.

  ***

  The sun had set over Oakeley as the wheel of Randy’s truck sped through the back roads of town. Colt grabbed his cellphone off the dashboard and immediately dialed Randy’s number.

  “Hello?!” Randy yelled into the line. There was a lot of background noise. It sounded like Randy had all of Texas in the gym.

  “Get ready,” Colt said in a firm voice. “We’re bringing them right to you…”

  “It’s on! I got something for them,” Randy shouted like a maniac just before he hung up the phone.

  Colt shook his head as the call ended, “I know I said this a million times, but your brother is crazy as sin.”

  “True story,” Tim grunted, clearly not in the mood for conversation.

  “And handy in a pinch,” Colt added.

  “Another truth. Text Danny and tell him I need him on Monument Avenue.”

  “He’s already there. I heard him in the background,” Colt answered.