Page 50 of Rolling Thunder
“We’re all still going to have to be careful for a while. They may not arrest him right away. Even if they do, he could make bail. He’s going to try hard to shut you up. He’s always been able to make you do what he wants. He isn’t going to just quietly go away.”
She nodded a little. Everything he said was true. She didn’t know how he had such insight into Trent’s darker nature.
“We’ll go stay at your place till Jake gets here. Then I’ll take you to the cops and Jake can stay with Bill. That way, Trent can’t try to do anything to scare you into keeping quiet.”
Her phone beeped and she jumped. The balloon of anxiety in her chest was growing by the second. She looked at the phone, and it was like the moment a roller coaster picks up speed. It was happening, and she couldn’t stop it now.
Trent: Where the fuck are you?
“What?” Evan asked, obviously reading her face.
She swallowed hard and pushed the phone across the table at him so he could read the text. Evan clicked on the number and waited as it rang.
She stared at him across the table, her face pale and grim. At last, the call was answered.
“She’s not coming. If you come anywhere near her, I’ll fucking kill you. Is that clear?” A deafening silence filled the room. Then her phone beeped. He glanced at the screen.
“Fucking pussy hung up.”
She could only stare at Evan in terror. Nobody talked to Trent like that, especially not on her behalf. Whether he knew it or not, he had just declared war.
The distinctive scream of a motorcycle pierced the early afternoon quiet. Evan stood up.
“Hurricane season,” he muttered.
“What?” Kayla asked.
“That’s what we used to say when we heard his bike coming in. Hurricane Jake.”
He went out onto the porch to flag his brother down, since he didn’t know which farmhouse was hers.
It was telling that Jake had pulled the old battle-ax out of storage for this ride. He often rode custom choppers with brightly colored, intricate custom paint jobs. But this was his classic restored shovelhead. It was louder and meaner than any of the custom choppers that came out of his shop. It was a war horse. Unlike Evan, Jake wasn’t heavily tattooed. He wore a sleeveless shirt, and his arms were rich with tan and muscles. He wore a black bandanna wrapped around his head, and a wild mess of reddish-brown hair exploded from the top of it. Evan held the gate open, and Jake rumbled in and came to a stop. The heel of his black cowboy boot hooked the kickstand and pulled it forward, tipping the bike in one fluid movement as he swung off.
“Thanks for coming,” Evan said simply.
Jake grabbed him in a quick hug. “This is Kayla. Kayla, my brother Jake.”
Before she could properly respond, Jake grabbed her and kissed her cheek. “Hey, baby.”
Evan punched him in the shoulder, even though there was a genuine smile between Kayla and Jake. Jake had that effect on women.
“Back off, asshole,” chided Evan, to which Jake replied with a hearty laugh.
“All right, all right, fuck you. I get it.” Dangerous charisma rolled off Jake in waves, just like it always had. The sound of bikes filled the afternoon as another big Harley rolled in behind Jake. Canyon Bill rode up, and he wasn’t alone. He swung off from the end of what was now a row of bikes. He sauntered up, followed by another biker.
“This the rest of the cavalry?” Bill asked generally toward Evan and Jake, who nodded.
“Hurricane Jake,” Jake said with a flash of a smile, reaching out a hand to Canyon Bill. Bill looked him up and down, and there was a crackle of tension. Evan realized quickly, but too late, that Bill might know of Jake and his possible affiliation. He would have to talk to Bill and smooth it over.
“Canyon Bill,” he replied. “This here’s my buddy Road Kill,” the old biker added, gesturing to the man at his side. Terse nods completed the introductions.
The men took up places at her kitchen table. Cigarettes were lit, beers cracked open, all except for Bill, who sat quietly with a good glass of iced tea. Bill seemed content to sit back and listen to the discussion.
“Are we gonna go kill this motherfucker?” Jake asked.
Evan saw Kayla stiffen and reached over, putting his hand over hers as he matter-of-factly addressed Jake’s question.
“No. I’m taking her to the police. What I need you to do first, Jake, is stay here with Bill and Roadkill. I don’t want this dirtbag catching anybody alone. He’s bad news, and he’ll probably bring friends. He’s already threatened to hurt Bill to try to keep control over her. I figure we’re all going to need to keep an eye on things until he’s been arrested. After that, we’ll have to try to figure out whether he’ll send anybody after her from lockup.”