Vince's hands clenched into fists, but he didn't move, didn't rise to the bait. Wade's eyes shifted to Evelyn, standing behind Vince, protected by Loretta and three Hells Angels. "Miss Sutton, we need to have a conversation about the man you killed 12 years ago." Evelyn's voice was steadier than she felt. "That was self-defense.
He broke into my apartment." "He was my informant, my eyes and ears in Vegas. Without him, I lost track of the Angels, lost millions in disrupted business. And then you disappeared, made me look weak." Wade took a step closer.
His men shifted, hands moving toward their weapons. Vince's crew did the same. "Here's what's going to happen," Wade said. "Miss Sutton is going to come with me, voluntarily. We're going to settle accounts, and then everyone else gets to walk away."
"That's not happening," Vince said flatly. "Then we have a problem." "We've had a problem for 12 years. This is just the first time you've had the guts to face me directly." Wade's smile faded.
"I have 15 men. You have six. The math isn't in your favor." "18," Ray said. "12 more on the way."
"Still not enough." And then from somewhere in the distance came the sound of sirens. Blue and red lights flashed on the horizon, getting closer. Wade's expression darkened. "You called the cops."
"I called a friend," Vince said. "Sheriff Daniel Brooks. Good man, fair. And he owes me from the time we pulled his deputies out of a bar fight with some out-of-town trouble." Wade's jaw clenched.
"This isn't over." "No," Vince agreed. "It's not, but it's not happening here, not tonight." The sheriff's cruiser pulled up, lights still flashing. Sheriff Brooks got out.
58 years old, gray hair, hard eyes. He walked to the center of the standoff, looked at Wade, at Vince, at the 15 armed men facing six bikers. "Gentlemen," he said calmly, "we have a problem here." Wade's voice was smooth, professional. "No problem, Sheriff.
Just a misunderstanding." "Funny. I got a call about armed men threatening civilians on a public highway. That sounds like more than a misunderstanding." Wade's eyes narrowed, but he knew better than to push.
Not with a sheriff watching, not with potential witnesses. "We were just leaving." "Good idea." Wade looked past the sheriff at Evelyn. "This isn't finished, Miss Sutton.
I'm a patient man, but patience has limits." He turned and walked back to his vehicle. His men followed. The five SUVs pulled away one by one until their taillights disappeared into the night. Sheriff Brooks turned to Vince.
"You want to tell me what that was about?" "Old business from Vegas." "Wade Garrison doesn't come to Arizona unless it's serious." "It is serious. He's after someone under my protection."
Brooks looked at Evelyn, at Loretta. Understanding dawned. "The woman from 12 years ago, the one you've been looking for." Vince nodded. Brooks sighed.
"You know I can't protect you if this turns into a war." "I'm not asking you to. I'm asking you to give us time to figure out a solution." "How much time?" "48 hours."
Brooks considered, then nodded. "48 hours. After that, if Wade's still making noise, I have to step in officially. And that means arrests, charges, the whole mess." "Understood."
Brooks tipped his hat to Loretta. "Ma'am, sorry you got caught up in this." Loretta gave him a tight smile. "Young man, I've been caught up in worse." Brooks chuckled despite himself, got back in his cruiser, and drove away.
The highway fell quiet again. Vince turned to his crew. "Ray, where's the tow truck?" "5 minutes out." "Good.
Once Evie's car is loaded, we head to the clubhouse. Full lockdown protocol. Nobody in or out without clearance." Jake pulled out his phone. "I'll call ahead, get the prospects to set up perimeter."
Bobby looked at Evelyn. "You okay?" She nodded, still processing everything. Loretta put an arm around her daughter. "We're going to be all right."
Evelyn wanted to believe that, but she'd seen the look in Wade's eyes, the cold calculation. This wasn't over. It was barely beginning. The tow truck arrived 15 minutes later, a beat-up Ford F-350 with a flatbed. The driver, Jimmy, was a man in his 50s with grease under his fingernails and a Hells Angels support patch on his jacket.
He loaded Evelyn's Honda without asking questions, strapped it down, tipped his hat to the ladies. "Where to?" "The clubhouse," Vince said. "Park it in the back garage. We'll need you to look at it, see what was sabotaged."
Jimmy nodded. On it. He drove away. Vince turned to Evelyn and Loretta. Ray and Bobby will take you.
Stay close. Don't stop for anything. Loretta looked at the motorcycles, at the helmets, at her daughter. "I never thought I'd say this." She murmured, "But let's ride."
Ray brought his bike forward, a Harley Softail. He handed Loretta a helmet. Bobby did the same for Evelyn. The engines started one by one and then they were moving, six bikes heading south on Highway 89. Two passengers who'd never imagined they'd be part of a motorcycle convoy.
The wind, the noise, the sheer power of the machines. Evelyn closed her eyes and held on tight. For the first time in 12 years, she wasn't alone. For the first time in 12 years, she wasn't running. And for the first time in 12 years, she had people willing to stand between her and the darkness.
The clubhouse appeared 20 minutes later. A large warehouse-style building on the outskirts of Flagstaff, surrounded by a chain-link fence. Guard at the gate. The gate opened as they approached. The bikes rolled through into a parking lot filled with more motorcycles, dozens of them.
The full chapter was assembling. Vince pulled to a stop near the main entrance, killed his engine, helped Loretta off. She pulled off her helmet, hair wild, eyes bright. "That," she said, "was extraordinary." Vince allowed himself a small smile.
"You did good, Mrs. Sutton." Evelyn and Bobby pulled up beside them. Evelyn dismounted, legs shaky, adrenaline fading. Ray appeared at her side. "You all right?"
She nodded. "I think so." The clubhouse door opened. More men in leather vests emerged. Patches reading Northern Arizona Hells Angels 1%.
They looked at Evelyn with curiosity, with respect because they knew who she was. They knew what she'd done. They knew the story. Vince raised his voice, addressing the assembled chapter. "Brothers, 12 years ago this woman saved my life, saved Kyle Harrison's life.
Tonight the man who tried to kill us has come for her and we're going to make sure he fails." A roar of approval from the gathered bikers. Vince continued. "Wade Garrison is in Flagstaff. He's got 15 men, maybe more.
He wants Evelyn Sutton and he's not going to stop until he gets her or we make him stop." Silence now, serious faces, men who understood the stakes. "We have 48 hours before the sheriff has to step in officially. 48 hours to end this. Protect the family and send Wade back to whatever hole he crawled out of."
Another roar, fists raised, engines revved in approval. Vince turned to Evelyn. "You're safe here. Nobody gets through that gate without going through us first." Evelyn looked at the faces around her, men she didn't know, men who were ready to fight for her because of something she'd done 12 years ago without expecting anything in return.
She felt tears sting her eyes. "Why?" Vince's answer was simple. "Because you're family now and we don't abandon family." Loretta put her arm around her daughter, held her close and for the first time in a very long time, Evelyn Sutton allowed herself to hope.
But 20 miles away in a luxury hotel suite, Wade Garrison stood at the window, phone to his ear. "Bring everyone." He said quietly, "Every man we have in Nevada, California, New Mexico. I want them here by tomorrow night." A pause while he listened.
"Yes, all of them. This ends in 48 hours, one way or another." He hung up, stared out at the lights of Flagstaff, smiled and began planning his war. The clubhouse smelled of motor oil, leather and coffee that had been sitting too long on the burner. Evelyn and Loretta sat in what the club called the chapel, a large room with a long wooden table.