Page 3 of April’s Fool

“Right,” I mutter, nodding. “I’m ready whenever everyone is to hit the road.” Stacy’s text is a lead weight in my gut. I could seriously use some time on my bike to get my head straight. It doesn’t matter that I’m not alone, that my brothers will be with me. It’s still me and the open road. Nothing but my bike roaring down the road, my hand on the throttle. There’s no feeling like it.

Hazard nods and moves his bike farther up from where he’d parked it. I notice him speak to Wrench and Trench for a moment before laughing. It’s good to see him laugh. Sometimes I envy how carefree he is, and that he has this with the rest of our brothers. I wouldn’t change my time in the military, joining the SEALS, or meeting the men who’d become more than just friends to me. They’d become my family. With them gone, I’m left with memories that haunt me. The nightmares that taunt me in the night. I hate having lost them. However, earning my patch and becoming a member of the Grave Prowlers helps fill the void left by what I lost.

Over the past year, my brothers have pulled me out of a dark place. Not that it doesn’t still haunt me, but they’ve been there for me. I’ve had to learn that they have my back. I’ve had to learn to trust them. Trust in the brotherhood. It hasn’t been easy. I struggled through it, and I’m glad I did, because I learned that I can live my life and live with the loss of those who are gone.

It doesn’t mean I don’t still look over my shoulder, expecting the enemy to strike at any moment. But when I’m with my brothers, I can let my guard down.

Straddling my bike, I wait for my brothers, all of them doing the same. The sooner we get this entire weekend over with, the better. The idea of being around a bunch of strangers doesn’t sit well with me. Maybe they’ll have some bitches there I can spend time with. Considering I barely sleep as it is, it’ll be better to have someone to sink into and distract myself. It’s one of the few times the memories leave me the fuck alone.

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Cannon give the high sign. Time to hit the road. Hopefully, this weekend doesn’t end up as a shitshow.

Six hours on the road isn’t long enough when the weather is nice, and there’s not a cloud in sight.

We pull into the Devil’s Riot MC Franklin Charter and find several cars parked off to the side. Cannon leads us to park our bikes. One car I notice right off. It’s hot as fuck. The flip-flop decal on the back glass is a giveaway that it belongs to some chick. That and the license plate claiming she’s a beach girl.

Flipping the kickstand down, I turn off my bike and swing one leg over, straightening. My back pops a couple of times, as it always does after I’ve been in the same position for long periods.

I grab my pack from one of the saddlebags and join my brothers as we head for the clubhouse doors. Just before we get inside, the doors burst open as three giggling women rush out with water guns in hand, their shirts and hair wet. Several men wearing cuts are chasing after them, also aiming water guns.

“Swear to the fuckin’ almighty, Kayla, y’all are gonna get it,” one man shouts.

“Yeah, right, big brother. You have to catch us first,” the blonde shouts back. I assume she’s Kayla.

“What the fuck did I tell y’all about this stupid shit?” another man calls loudly. This one is older and looks like Kayla’s brother.

“Daddy, it’s spring break. We’re all home, and we’re . . .”

“Yeah, I fuckin’ well know it, darlin’,” the older man says, looking in our direction. “Excuse them. The girls are home from school, and they think it’s funny to fuck with all of us.”

“Uncle Horse, you know you get a kick out of it,” one of the other girls says. This one with brownish-blond hair. Beautiful like Kayla.

But it’s the girl with the dark hair who catches my attention. She’s got one hell of a smile on her face.

“Better them fucking around here than on some beach.” Cannon chuckles, pointing this out.

“Yeah, it’s the only reason they get away with the shit they do. Them being here keeps them from getting in trouble. It’s bad enough these three are away at school most of the time,” Horse remarks, stepping forward. “Good, you were able to make it, Cannon. Twister’s inside,” he says, nodding toward the doors. “Let’s head in. Rooms are ready. Y’all get settled. The grills are already going. Food will be ready shortly.”

Cannon nods and follows Horse into the clubhouse. The rest of us follow behind them, but I take one last look at the quiet girl as one of the guys throws an arm around her shoulders and Kayla’s. I don’t know why, but the sight of her in another man’s arms doesn’t sit well with me.

If I told someone that shit, they’d call me a fool for even thinking it. It’s ironic that my brothers gave me the road name my SEAL brothers used as my call sign.

In the clubhouse, I had to admit it was the shit. Spacious, for sure. The wood inside looked hand-carved.

“JC, Lo, show the guys their rooms for me, will ya?” Horse orders.

“You got it, VP,” Lo, the man who’d had an arm around the two girls’ shoulders, says. However, I caught the slightest stutter in his voice. It wasn’t bad. I wouldn’t have caught it if I hadn’t known what I was listening for. One of my buddies had a similar stutter.

“Come on, this way.” JC announces, heading down a hallway to the right as he explains. “We’ve expanded the clubhouse in the past couple of years. Made room for when we have guests. Each room has its own bathroom. Keeps the issue of running into naked bitches down. Mom got sick of seeing it, or, as she calls them, ‘skanky twats’.”

Some of my brothers chuckle quietly, while others burst into loud laughter.

“Just pick a room on this hall, however, I should warn you.” Lo pauses, letting out a sigh. “The girls have been here all week. Who the hell knows what they might have already done or what they might try to get up to. To make things worse, it’s April First. Around here, we all know what the hell that means when it comes to them. So good fuckin’ luck.”

“What are we talking about here?” Hornet asks, sounding amused.

“With them, anything goes. Anyone is a target.” JC grunts, shaking his head. “I’d advise locking your doors at night. They’ve got no problem walking in and shaving an eyebrow.”

“Or gluing your junk to a pillow,” Lo adds.