Page 43 of Forgiveness
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Flux
Two weeks later
Kremmling, CO
The roar ofthe Colorado River filled Flux’s ears as he cut through the canyons and entered into a lush valley surrounded by tall mountain peaks. Grazing cows and sheep blurred past him as he made his way toward Kremmling. Each August, the tiny town burgeoned with people as the annual rodeo got underway. RVs and tents littered the valley, and Wranglers, cowboy boots, Western shirts, and Stetsons became the normal attire.
Flux spotted the Super 8 motel sign and turned into the lot, scanning it for a cherry-red pickup. The only truck he saw was Chet’s, and he was the last person Flux wanted to run into at that moment. Flux slipped his phone from the pocket inside his cut and checked for any messages from Maggie.
It’d been a week since the rodeo had ended in Tucson, and he and Maggie had gone their separate ways, promising to meet up in Kremmling. She’d invited Flux to come to Greeley with her to spend a few days on her family’s ranch, but he wasn’t into meeting parents and getting the third degree, so he declined. But stepping inside his motel room, he wished like hell Maggie was with him, and he couldn’t wait until he heard the hum of her pickup’s V-8 engine as it pulled into the parking lot.
Flux threw his bag on the bed and lit up a joint. It’d been a while since he’d been back in Colorado, and the cool air blowing in through the open door felt good after the stifling heat of Tucson.The only thing missing is Duchess. Fuck.
Leaning against the doorway, he stared at the rippling waters of the Blue River that cut through the town. After spending all their days and nights together in Arizona, being without Maggie for the past seven days was damn hard, and every inch of him felt the fucking loss. Yeah, Flux was more than ready to get his hands on Duchess again.
He inhaled deeply then slowly blew out. He’d had sexual droughts before, but never for longer than forty-eight hours over the past year and a half while his grief had been especially hard to tame. Now that grief wasn’t his main motivator, his feelings were even harder to hang up and ignore than they’d been before, because it seemed like Flux was feeling things all the damn time. The fucking floodgates were open and a part of him would give anything to dam them up. Before, his life had been a steady flow of predictability and pain, with chasers of drugs, booze, and one nighters to numb things up nice and good. Now? A whirlwind of emotions swirled inside him like he was on some fucking out of control Tilt-A-Whirl ride.
Flux raked his fingers through his hair. It’d been a long time since he’d missed someone, not since … Alicia.Fuck no—I’m not going there.He flicked the blunt on the ground and smothered it out with the toe of his boots.Damn this woman.Since he’d met Maggie, he’d been breaking his cardinal rules all over the place and paying for it every time he scanned the lot for Duchess’s truck. Whenever he’d turned into the dirt lot in Tucson and saw the cherry-red pickup, it’d immediately put a dumbass grin on his face.I’m fuckin’ hopeless—a damn lost cause when it came to Maggie and wanting to hear her voice, to smell her skin, and taste her on his lips.
Flux shut the door behind him and headed out to the rodeo setup to check out the stalls and tack area.I need to get my shit together.If he didn’t get his feelings on lockdown, there was no way he would be able to make Maggie think things were still nothing but casual fucking between friends.But it sure as hell didn’t feel casual between us in Arizona.And the way she’d pretended not to cry when they parted ways after the rodeo made him think they’d crossed over the friends-with-benefits line a while back.
Flux killed the engine, hopped off his bike, and made his way to the fairgrounds. Once there, he made a quick, brisk walk through the area, noting that Maggie didn’t seem to be anywhere, and he ignored the disappointment that wrapped around him.Fuck that.The screech of wheels exploded behind him and he spun around and saw Chet kicking up dust with his truck. Loud country music blared from the open windows, and Flux turned around and walked toward the back area, wanting to avoid a confrontation with the cowboy. Flux had narrowly escaped getting canned after he beat the pussy’s ass in Tucson, and if Maggie hadn’t pleaded his case with Charlie, Flux would’ve lost about two grand in wages.
He pivoted outside of the stables, and his brain tracked something out of the corner of his right eye. Something shiny. Flux spun around and his gaze landed on a row of Harleys, six of them.What the fuck?It was damn surprising to see any biker at a rodeo, no matter how slow of a night it might be … butsix?
A shuffle of footsteps made Flux hustle away behind one of the stalls, and he watched as a tall, lanky dude in jeans and a leather cut walked over to one of the bikes. The biker had a wrench in his hand and he knelt down and started fussing with the rear axle nut. The guy stood up and turned around then bent over one of the saddle bags. It was at that moment when Flux’s eyes widened and his initial surprise morphed into a scowl as soon as his gaze fell on the dude’s cut and MC patch—Satan’s Pistons, Arizona. All the small hairs on Flux’s neck stood on end. There was no fucking way the rival club’s assholes were here to take in dinner and a goddamn rodeo show.Something’s not right.
Flux ducked back into the stalls so the fucker wouldn’t see him, and as he walked to the far back area of the ring, his gaze darted around just to make sure none of the other assholes were about. He stepped into a small room at the end of the twist of hallways, fished out his burner phone, then punched in Hawk’s number. Flux thrummed his fingers against his thigh as he waited for the VP to pick up.
“Hey, bro. Where the hell are you?” Hawk’s deep voice rumbled through the phone.
“In Kremmling. I’m still on the fuckin’ rodeo circuit.”
“I didn’t know they had rodeos there.”
“Well, you’re not exactly in on the rodeo grapevine.” Flux chuckled.
“Yeah, I don’t even know what the hell they’re about.” Hawk laughed.
“Right, so why the fuck do you think six Satan’s Pistons would have their fuckin’ asses here in this tiny-ass town? I saw six of their damn bikes in the rodeo lot. My gut’s telling me this shit stinks real bad.”
There was silence on the other end of the phone for a long pause. “What the fuck? Those assholes are in Colorado?”
“And at the rodeo. See why I’m calling?”
“Yeah. Those fuckers are up to something on our turf. Banger’s outta town with Belle and the kids, but I’ll give him a call. I’ll call Steel too. The Night Rebels practically annihilated the fuckin’ Pistons last year. Steel’s not gonna be too happy to hear they’re back and pulling shit.”
“I’m not sure what the hell they got going on with the rodeo, but I’ll keep a tight eye on that shit and see what I can find out.” Flux cracked open the door and his gaze swept up and down the aisle, double-checking for anything off.
“Can you get your ass to Pinewood tonight?” Tension etched Hawk’s voice.
“Yeah. I’ll head over as soon as I get a chance after the show tonight. Cool?”
“Yep. See you then, bro. Watch your back.”
“Always.” Flux coughed and crossed his arm, staring off into the distance as the silence between them spread thick. “I was gonna tell you I was back in Colorado—”
