Don't Say It:Ronacks Motorcycle Club(3)

By: Debra Kayn


"Oh, I can't believe I forgot." Raelyn stepped away and put her hand on her head. "I didn't wrap a piece of pie for you to take home. Let me go—"

"That's okay. I'm still full from dinner," Swiss lied. "Why don't you go put your feet up. I'm going to hit the road."

He motioned at Battery. "Walk out with me?"

"Yeah. Give me a second." Battery turned to Raelyn.

Swiss left through the kitchen and walked out the back door. He lit a cigarette and waited by his Harley for his president. The wait wasn't long, and Battery came outside before he could finish his smoke.

"What brought you to the bar tonight?" asked Swiss, knowing Battery wouldn't have come over because a woman came around looking for her sister. There were always two Ronacks members who stayed during working hours to make sure there were no problems.

"Bree wanted me to check in on Raelyn and give her a gift for Dukie. I got tied up earlier and couldn't get away." Battery pulled out a cigarette and sat his motorcycle. "We decided to hand over Duke's vest. Told Raelyn to keep it for the kid. You would've thought I brought Duke back to life when she held the leather, man."

Swiss flinched and shook his head. "She loved him."

"Yeah, wholeheartedly," mumbled Battery. "Makes me want to go home and crawl in bed, keep Bree a little closer."

Swiss nodded. He understood the sentiment but had no desire to feel that way about another person. The solitary life fit him fine.

He only worried about himself. Life was simpler that way.

"I'll see you tomorrow." Battery stepped over to his motorcycle.

"Ride with purpose, Prez," said Swiss, stating the club's pledge.

Battery mumbled, "Always, man."

The president of Ronacks started his motorcycle and rode away from the bar. Swiss looked at the back door, found it closed, and the outside light turned off. Raelyn had already shut down for the night to be alone with her memories.

He started the engine of his Harley and followed Battery out of town. At the last street, before the speed limit raised to forty-five miles per hour, Swiss turned right and headed toward the duplex, knowing it would be another long night since it was unlikely that he'd be able to go back to sleep.

He swung over to the curb, backed his bike into position, and pocketed his keys. Glancing over at the rusted piece of shit-mobile next to the curb, he walked around the vehicle and kneeled down beside the flat tire, running his hand over the surface in the dark. Near the bottom, he felt the tell-tale sign of a nail protruded from the rubber.

It'd take more than a simple inflate to get the car drivable. The owner would need a spare and a trip to Leery's Tire Supply for a patch.

He straightened, knowing it wasn't his problem, and walked around the back of the car and up on the sidewalk. A dark shadow appeared alongside the car, and he turned, his hand going to his vest pocket where he kept his pistol.

"Don't move," said a feminine voice.

Swiss held his hands away from his vest. "Easy, there."

"Who are you and what are you doing snooping around my car?" she asked.

In the dark with the streetlight behind her, all he could make out was a woman with dark hair, probably brown, about five-feet-five-inches, and average weight. Her voice tremored when she spoke.

Apparently, she was his new neighbor.

"My name's Swiss. I live behind you on the left side of the duplex." He waited for her to look over her shoulder, and when she continued to hold a pistol on him, he said, "Why don't you point that somewhere else and I can go inside and get out of your hair."

"You live on the other side of the duplex?"

"Yeah." He lowered his hands. "Let's put the gun away, sweet."

"You're in a gang?"

He chuckled. "This would be a nice conversation of getting to know you if I felt more secure about you handling a weapon."

She lowered the gun and aimed it at his feet. Though he'd prefer she put the pistol away before she accidently shot him, he let her have her protection and hoped if her finger squeezed the trigger, she'd hit the steel toe of his boot.

"Answer my question." She straightened her arms and yet followed Swiss's request to keep the barrel pointed lower. "Are you in a gang?"