“Go with God.” They said in unison and made the sign of the cross in front of me.
“Run,” Lupita said.
“Don’t look back,” Theresa whispered as I climbed out of the single-story room.
“I love you both. Thank you so much, from the bottom of my heart!” Running like my life depended on it, because it did, I disappeared into the almond orchard behind the monastery. Perhaps it was a good thing I was wearing my ugly black shoes. The dirt was damp, and I could feel specks of mud dotting the backs of my calves.
It took me five minutes to get to the old blue car they somehow acquired for me. I took the key out of the purse, unlocked the driver’s side door, and hopped into the seat.
My hands violently shook as I put the key in the ignition and held my breath as I turned it. The car roared to life. Exhaling, I put it into drive and pressed on the gas pedal. The vehicle jerked forward, then I slammed on the break. After a few attempts, I found my groove and slowly went down the dirt road.
I’d memorized the route to Interstate 5, so I didn’t bother taking out the map just yet.
It’s going to be okay.
You’re doing it.
Now if I could make it all the way to Idaho, I might be able to relax. Maybe. My brother would for sure be after me. Then he’d bring me back. Or maybe he’d think I was too much trouble and kill me.
Which scenario would be better? Marrying a man I didn’t know or death?
I wasn’t going to find out. Pressing the gas pedal harder, I watched the numbers climb until I hit 60 MPH.
Please send me a guarding angel, Lord.
2
El Jefe
My poor fucking brother. My road captain. My best friend. I was all kinds of furious about the accident.
Accident my ass.
I wanted blood.
GQ was a mangled mess after being struck by a garbage truck this morning. He’d been in surgery for over four hours while the surgeon tried to piece him back together. His injuries were extensive. Broken leg and arm. A collapsed lung. Then there was his face. Reconstructive surgery was in his future, along with a very long recovery. He was a lucky son of a bitch. He could be dead…
I hung my head, saying a silent prayer. Only my VP, Quino and I were allowed in first. The nurse had said two at a time. Naturally, it would’ve been us to see him before anyone else.
“Do you think he’s in pain,” Quino asked.
“Naw. They have him heavily sedated.”
“We need to question him.”
“We will, brother. Nobody wants retribution more than me.” Unfortunately, nobody was able to identify the driver. The police said the garbage truck had been reported stolen.
Quino grunted. “I’m stepping out. I can’t take looking at him like this.”
“No problem.” I could hardly stomach the sight of GQ, too. It was fucking hard seeing him unconscious with tubes in his arms and machines monitoring him.
Bikers risked their lives every day they were on their hogs. Motorists were unpredictable. Many were distracted by their goddamn phones. I hated that this scene wasn’t uncommon.
Today would have been good, the start of the weekend. But with GQ in the hospital, dark clouds had rolled in. Rain was coming.
Had things turned out differently, mywholecrew could’ve gone out on a run. It wasn’t often that we were all out together, and now, it would be a very long time before GQ could get back on his Harley. Fuck, he’d need a new one…
I put my hand on his and gave it a gentle squeeze. “We’ll find the person who did this to you, brother. I promise you. We will find him.” And following that vow, I left my sleeping brother and went out into the hallway.
