The Biker's Fate Chapter 504

Train

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" I asked for the tenth time, pulling the two cases of beer from the trunk of our rental car.

"Would you stop it. I'll be fine," Melody said. "You keep forgetting, I know half of the people in there. Doom is literally family."

"It's not so much the family part of family night I'm concerned about. What if there are people there we don't know?"

"Then we'll meet them," she pointed out.

"And what if they freak out when they see you?"

"You think I haven't been in that situation a million times before? Jesus, Nash you're starting to sound like me."

"I know, but I just don't want you to feel like you have to be Melody Morgan tonight. We came to Savannah so you can be yourself and heal in quiet seclusion."

Melody stopped me as we reached the front porch of the clubhouse. "I love you, and I love that you're so concerned about me, but I promise you, no one here is going to bat an eyelash over me," she said. "Now kiss me, then we can go inside where you'll see I'm right."

I did as I was instructed and leaned down for a deep kiss. "We could also get back in the car and drive back to your place," I said.

Melody smiled and opened the front door, stepping inside to an immediate barrage of

"Hey, there rock star!" and "Oh, my God. I can't believe it's you!" The clubhouse was a cacophony of applause, cheers, and whistles.

I grabbed Melody's arm and pulled her back through the door and back onto the porch.

"See!" I hollered. "I fucking told you," I said, pointing wildly at the door.

Melody laughed. It was the first real laugh I'd heard from her since Puddin's death.

"What's so funny?"

"They were cheering for you, dummy," she replied with her million-kilowatt smile.

"What?"

Melody opened the door again, and the crowd went wild as she pushed me back inside. Plastered on the walls were banners and signs of congratulations with my name on them, complete with captions above them like, "Guitar God" and "Born to Ride, Born to Play."

"We're all proud of you, Train," Doom said, coming forward to shake my hand. "On behalf of your brothers back in Portland, and everyone here in your new second home, we all want to congratulate you for kicking ass out there on the road and somehow managing to snag the second hottest Morgan sister," he said with a wink to his wife, Lyric.

"Hey!" both Melody and Harmony protested in unison.

Harmony and Jaxon had flown in early so that Harmony could spend time practicing for the Savannah shows, but also so that the family could spend some much needed time together.

"Thanks, everyone. I don't really know what to say. There's been so much sadness lately, it's nice to see so many smiling faces. Thanks for the warm welcome, we appreciate it," I said, pulling Melody tightly to me.

"We got used to her bein' around here a long time ago," Alamo, the chapter 's Sergeant at Arms said, tipping his beer bottle to Melody. "We need a new celebrity to make a fuss about."

"See?" Melody said with a chuckle. Patting my chest. She was then spirited away by her sisters for family time of her own.

After the roar of the party had died down a bit, a group of us including Doc and Doom, the chapter 's President and Vice-President, along with Alamo, Rabbit, Shadow, and Caspar made our way outside to the firepit to enjoy some cigars from Doom's personal humidor.

"Lemme get that for you," Rabbit said to Caspar, as he tried to assist him in cutting the tip off his stogie. Caspar had recently lost his right hand during some unfortunate club business with a rising crime syndicate calling themselves the Beast.

"Fuck off, Rabbit," Caspar growled. "You know I can do more with this fucker than my other hand."

Caspar's nurse, Andi, was able to hook him up with her brother-in-law who owned one of the biggest pharmaceutical companies in the world, and he built Caspar a 'bionic' hand.

"Sorry, man, just tryin' to help," Rabbit said with a grin.

"All of us in Portland were really sorry to hear about what happened," I said.

"Thanks, brother," Caspar replied. "My doc's workin' on gettin' me fixed up with an even better robotic prosthetic. Apparently, I'm an excellent candidate since it was such a clean cut that took it off. The technology just keeps gettin' better."

The words clean cut made my sack shrivel.

"I'm gonna be like Luke fuckin' Skywalker, man," Caspar said with a smile.

I admired his sense of optimism and feared I wouldn't handle losing a hand quite so well. The thought of never playing guitar again was enough to raise my anxiety level a notch.

"You guys run into any more trouble lately?" I asked Doc.

"We've managed to lay low, but I don't know for how much longer. The Beast is growing in numbers with every passing month. And it's only a matter of time before the pot starts boiling over. Caspar's hand was a clear message, but we don't plan on backing down."

"But we're not looking to start a war either," Doom said.

"We didn't start jack shit," Caspar said. "It was that psycho bitch, Daphne."

"Are you still working with the Feds?" I asked Rabbit.

He nodded. "I do some work with Taxi from time to time," he replied casually. "When he needs me."

"Anything you can tell us?"

"The Beast isn't going away any time soon. They're well-funded, highly organized, motivated, and they are targeting small and medium sized dealers, traffickers, and thieves. Gobbling up vulnerable operations either by way of force or financial incentives. The Beast is offering protection and up-front capitol for any crew who throws in with them voluntarily. Several MCs across the country, including your old pals the Spiders are already in bed with them."

"The Howlers, Jokers, and Predators have all reported feeling the Beast's squeeze," Doc said.

"Taxi and his team are working hard to shut the Beast down, but he's fighting an uphill battle," Rabbit continued. "His bosses view what's happening as nothing more than a bunch of gangs fighting over the same street corner."

"Why does the Beast give a shit about us?" I asked. "We're not even one-percenters. We don't run any grifts."

"Not according to the intel the Spiders have given them," Rabbit said. "They've got Daphne convinced that we're secretly moving heavy weight."

"Drugs?"

"Yup."

"What a load of shit," I said.

"The Spiders told Daphne we tried to run them out of Portland so the Dogs could control the meth trade in the area."

"We ran them out to keep meth out of Portland," I said.

"Sundance is dealing with them dealin' in the skin trade and he's had enough of it," Doc said.

"These fuckers are trafficking?"

"Yeah. It came to a head when they tried to traffic one of their member's kids."

"Fuck me," I breathed out.

"Yeah," Doc seethed. "All I know is this shit's gonna come to a head sooner than later."

"It always does," Alamo said.

"Until then, I suggest we enjoy these cigars, and raise our glasses to Train's pal Puddin'," Doc said. "The Beast's time is comin'."

The rest of the evening was spent catching up with old friends and swapping stories. After so much time on the road, it was nice being back on club soil, even if it wasn't my home turf.