inner PNW.
If Tarkio was unable to stop them, Cusclan would soon have control outside the Cyclone fences.
War would come to the streets, and Tarkio would lose men. It was inevitable.
During his dad's time, he'd seen the devastation when the power shifted. While he'd done shit and served time for a crime he hadn't committed, the future was going to change, whether he wanted it to or not.
His main concern was for his sister and her family. Tracy couldn't lose Rick. He was the one thing, besides the kids, that put the sunshine back in her life.
The Cusclan member cut across a parking lot, going in the opposite direction. Whip followed, not seeing the other man's intent until he entered the onramp going east on I-90.
Shifting down, he pulled off the road and turned his Harley. There was no use following him. The odds of more Cusclan members waiting for him, somewhere along the interstate, would outnumber him.
He took his time going back through town, keeping an eye on the streets. Priest would want to know what they were facing.
Far as he could tell, it was a domestic argument. The guy's old lady probably ran off and sought an area where she believed she'd be safe from him.
Ahead of him, the motorcycle shop came into view. He looked to the opposite side of the street. The woman involved sat on the trunk of her car.
He slowed. She swung her crossed leg up and down as if trying to attract his attention.
On a whim, he pulled off the street and rode over to her. She never changed her position, leaning back with her hands braced on the vehicle, her sneakered foot swinging her bare leg.
He stopped and cut the engine. The lights in the lot flickered as the sun dipped behind the mountain. There was enough daylight left to make out the platinum blonde hair tied in a high ponytail on the woman sprawled out on the car, confident about being approached by a stranger, despite shooting at another biker fifteen minutes ago.
Looking all around him, he studied the street, going in both directions. The occasional car drove past, interrupting the silence. They were far enough away from the airport, even the loud whine of the planes escaped his hearing.
"Are you going to sit there, saying nothing, or tell me your name?" said the woman.
He wasn't getting off the Harley. Any second, the police could check up on the report of gunshots, and he wanted to be long gone when that happened.
"Why was there a Cusclan member in Missoula?" he asked.
Her pale, arched eyebrow lifted. She was a natural blonde.
His gaze traveled down her long, bare legs. She had a tattoo on her ankle. He squinted, trying to see if he could tell who she belonged to by the mark on her.
She stretched her leg, pointing her foot to the side, giving him a clearer view. "It's a swimming turtle."
"Answer my question." He took his hands off the handlebar.
"You want to know his name?" She slid off the trunk and landed on both feet. "Find out yourself."
Her hand landed on her hip. He could make out the butt of the pistol tucked against her stomach behind the waist of her cutoffs where the hem of her shirt failed to reach her shorts.
He'd known women like her. They put on a big show to get a man's attention and picked fights to draw him away from his club. An old lady would know better than to be a bitch. That told him a lot about her status within Cusclan.
"If you're going to whore around with Cusclan members, you better get in your car and hit the highway. There's no place in Missoula for you." He reached down to start his Harley and stopped when her fingers gripped the handle of the pistol. "Sis, I've seen you shoot. Don't waste your bullets."
He started the bike and rode away. She was a damn sexy woman. Too bad Cusclan dirtied her.
Chapter 2
Twyla
The manager of the motel threw Twyla's suitcase out the door. She jumped out of the way. Struggling to hold on to the items in her arms, she dodged the pile in front of her.
"I told you, I have the money to stay two more nights." Twyla blew the hair out of her face. "If you'll give me a sec—"
"I've already given you enough time. Pay for the past week, plus the next two nights in advance, and I'll let you back in." The manager