Page 19 of My Single Dad Biker

He nods once. Doesn't ask for details he knows I won't give. "Louis?"

"I'll call you when I know timing. Might need your nephew."

"He's available. Be careful, Holt."

I clean up fast. Wash the grease off my hands with the industrial soap that never gets everything. Change into a clean t-shirt I keep in my locker. Check my gear. Call Ray's nephew and ask if he can take Louis tonight if needed.

He says yes.

Then I get on my bike and ride to the clubhouse.

The route takes me past the elementary school. I don't plan to go that way but my hands make the turn anyway.

The building looks exactly like it always does. Brick. Playground out back. Katherine's blue sedan is still in the parking lot along with a handful of others. Teachers staying late.

I keep riding.

The clubhouse is three miles outside town on land that used to be a farm before the farm went under in the nineties.

Clint bought the property with cash twelve years ago and we built the structure ourselves. Concrete block. Metal roof. Nothing fancy. It works.

I'm the third one there.

Clint is inside with the map already spread on the table. Tate is checking his knife against his thumb. Cain arrives two minutes after me with his laptop under his arm.

Three more brothers show up in the next ten minutes. By four-thirty we're all here and Clint doesn't waste time.

"Warehouse off Route 9. Mercer Road. Marrow's been using it to stage product. We confirmed it this morning. They've been operating there at least two weeks."

He points at the map. The warehouse location. Then the elementary school.

"Half a mile from where our kids go to school. Half a mile from Bloomfield proper. They don't get to operate that close to children. We're going in, we're burning it, and we're making sure they understand this is not a negotiation. Questions."

Tate asks how many on site.

Cain says two prospects confirmed this morning, possibly three. Sully was there yesterday.

I feel something go cold in my chest when I hear Sully's name. Marrow's enforcer. The one who put the scar on Walt's face three months ago when Walt was late on a payment that had nothing to do with the club.

Sully likes hurting people. Finds reasons to escalate when de-escalation would work fine.

"Sully's mine," I say.

Clint looks at me. He knows what I'm saying. He nods once. "Anyone else?"

Nobody speaks.

"We leave in fifteen. Check your gear."

I walk outside and stand in the cooling air and try to get my head where it needs to be. The adrenaline is already starting, that specific chemical cascade that happens before action. My vision sharpens. Colors get brighter. My hearing gets clearer. My body knows what's coming and it's already preparing.

Louis is at home doing homework at the kitchen table right now. Katherine is probably still at school cleaning up her classroom. Marrow has been staging drugs half a mile from both of them for at least two weeks and I didn't know.

That ends today.

We ride out at five sharp.

Six bikes. Clint leads.