SALEM

As I grab my bag and head toward the front door to head home, the squealing of tires on the street, and rapid sounds of what I’d compare to that of fireworks have me frozen on the spot. The window shatters into shards of glass flying all around me.

“Shit,” I hiss, hitting the floor and covering my head with my arms. My body instinctively curls into a ball while I wait for everything to quieten.

The sound of boots running toward me has my head popping up. Praying against all odds that it’s a friend and not foe heading my way, I search for the person behind the boots.

Bull, one of the older members in the DreamCatchers hollers out my name as his gun is raised in the air and his head swivels from one way to the other as he skids to a stop next to me.

“Fuck, Salem. Are you injured?” he asks, bending down next to me and begins inspecting me. “Salem, I need you to talk to me.”

“I’m good, Bull. A little shaken up but otherwise I’m alright.”

“Damn,” he whistles between the gaps of his front teeth. “You’ve got some fragments of glass embedded in your arm, sweetheart. Don’t move an inch until I come back, okay?”

I snort before commenting, “I’m not going anywhere, Bull. I couldn’t even if I wanted to. My damn legs are shaking like a newborn foal.”

“Good. We’ll get your legs back under you soon, but first I’m gonna make sure nobody’s lurking outside. Then we’ll snatch the first aid kit from the employee lounge and get you patched up and as good as new.”

“New works,” I say, dazedly. The floor is spinning beneath me, and my stomach is churning. “Sick.”

“Let it out, darlin’, no one would blame you one damn bit,” Bull acknowledges. “I’ll be right back.”

“R-r-righty-O,” I blabber out through chattering teeth.

“Fuck, you’re going into shock, little lady,” Bull states, reaching behind him and taking off his jacket and wrapping it around my shivering body and zipping me inside. He swaddles me like a baby inside of his leather jacket like a burrito. The smell both soothes and comforts me, reminding me of Cole’s scent.

“Gonn… gonna get blood on it,” I tell him as I start trying to take it off.

“It’s okay, Salem. It’s washable, sweetheart. Keep it on.” Bull eyes the parking lot and must deem us safe for the time being because he lifts me from the ground and sprints toward the break room, carrying me with ease as if I weigh next to nothing. “Let’s get you taken care of then we’re outta here.”

“The cops will be coming. There’s no way nobody called in shots fired to the police department, Bull. Should you go on and get out of here?”

“Not happening. I’ve got nothing to hide from, Salem. No warrants out for my arrest if that’s what you’re worrying about.”

“I’m not. I just thought that maybe this should stay away from the club,” I vigorously answer, wanting him to understand I’m protecting him… them, the club as a whole, nothing more and nothing less.

“I appreciate your concern, but we’re solid, promise,” he states, mollifying me.

* * *

Once my wounds have been cleaned up with antiseptic spray, and bandaged, the cops show up and ask a barrage of questions, some inconsequential to the event, some not. Some we can answer, some we can’t. Not because it’s club business or related to them, but because we’re clueless and simply don’t know the reason for it.

They chalk it up to a gang initiation, a message, or a hit, thinking that someone is trying to prove themselves the more dominant and wanting to infiltrate the town.

“They’re a bunch of imbeciles,” I mumble to Bull which causes him to chuckle. “We’re taught that police officers are here to serve and protect.”

“In most instances they do,” Bull argues. As I go to protest, he holds up his hand and stops me before I get into a heated rant. “Bikers have a reputation, Salem. Cops uphold the law, we’re known for breaking it. To them, we’ll always be the bad guys no matter what the situation is. The sooner you can wrap your head around that fact, the less stumped you’ll be when they don’t make us, or anything that happens to our members, and businesses a top priority. We chose this way of life, Salem. We know the consequences behind our lifestyle choices. None of us take it personally nor do we expect the PoPo to jump through hoops for us.”

“I can still manufacture many prudent arguments for what you’ve just said, Bull,” I contend. I’m on the fence about the way he makes blasé excuses for those put in charge of protecting our town as well as its people that live here.

“It is what it is. There’s no way around it so we deal and so do our women,” he reasons.

“Their behavior today wasn’t logical, Bull, no matter how you try to spin it. I’m irritated and my concerns are founded. On top of all that, I really want to write a letter to our congressman and send him a long list of grievances I have against the men elected into office to enforce the laws laid down by our government,” I huff, carefully climbing into the passenger side of my car after handing Bull my keys.

I wasn’t and still am not in the right frame of mind to argue with him when he held out his hands for them assuming it’d be okay for him to drive. Especially seeing as my hands are not steady enough to drive.

“Let’s get you home, Salem.”

“That’s the best thing I’ve heard all day, Bull. Take me home.”

POWERHOUSE

It took a bit to get Master calm enough to where we were comfortable letting him ride his bike. It’s not only his life on the line if he rides like a bat out of hell on the road, but also ours, and innocent pedestrians as well.

We’re no doubt a group of assholes, we're hotheads and we’ll all admit to it without shame, but even we couldn’t live with ourselves if he were to cause an accident that takes either his life or someone else’s. Specifically, if we could’ve prevented it from taking place by making him take some time to let the steam of his ire die down and didn’t.

I carry enough guilt with my mother and Amara’s suicide.

As we roar into town, I veer off from the others and head straight to Salem’s. The guys wave me off as we go our separate ways and I have a bad feeling crawl up my chest when I notice Bull sitting on the steps of Salem’s front stoop.

Pulling into her drive, I shut down the engine, remove my helmet, and hop off my bike.

“Bull,” I greet, “everything okay?”

“Not so much,” he replies.

“Why? What happened? Is Salem alright?” I tick off a variety of questions that run through my mind as I rush up on the porch.

“We had an incident at the studio after everyone left and Salem was there by herself,” he confides.

“What type of incident?” I probe. Knowing Bull, he’s holding back trying to gauge how I am after the meeting with Pops.

“As Salem was leaving, someone did a drive by and shot up the place,” he tells me.

“Excuse me?” I’m boiling mad and ready to rip some heads from someone’s neck. “Who?”

“That’s unknown at the present time. I chose to check on Salem and clean her up from the shattered glass instead of following the perpetrator,” Bull discloses. “I figured her safety and well-being was more important than capturing and detaining the fucker.”

“You assumed right, Bull, and I appreciate it. How is she? Does she need medical attention? Should we call Doc Shell or take her to the hospital?”

“Nah, no more than a few scrapes from the flying glass. There were some shards of glass that I had to dig out of her skin, but they weren’t deep enough to require any stitches. She's a tad shaken up, but she’s strong, Powerhouse. She’s gonna make you a fine old lady.”

“That I do know. She’s fucking perfect. Where’s your bike?” I ask.

“Left it behind so I could drive her back,” Bull tells me. “I’ll get Beckett to come and pick me up once I know you’re good for me to head on outta here.”

“I’ve got it from here, thanks, man. I’ll give the clubhouse a ring and have them send Beckett after you in the club’s truck.”

“That’d be appreciated, Powerhouse. Go check on your woman first, I’m fine sitting out here. The scenery is pretty spectacular.” Glancing over, I notice a woman in her forties tending to her flower bed.

“You should go introduce yourself, Bull. Salem watches over her house from time to time and feeds her cat when she’s away on business. It’s my understanding that she’s single.”

“Don’t mind if I do. Tell Beckett to take his time,” Bull says as he stands up and begins crossing the street.

A chuckle escapes as I watch Bull become a predator as he zones in on the poor unsuspecting female. “Good luck, lady. Looks like another man’s found his woman which means there’s no escaping him for you.”

When the door is secure behind me, I go ahead and call the club to get Bull a ride to his bike. Once I set eyes on my woman, I don’t plan on leaving her side the rest of the evening, even if it’s only to make a call out to have a brother pick Bull up. She needs me to help her slay those demons from today’s event and I plan on being there every step of the way.

* * *

Salem’s soaking in the tub, so wanting to be respectful I knock on the door and let her know I’m here.

“Salem. I’m here, baby. What do you need from me?”

“I’m good, Cole. I’m just going to soak in a bubble bath for a little longer with this glass of wine then I’ll get out and make us dinner.”

“I’ve got dinner, darlin’. Is there anything in particular you’re in the mood for?”

“Something loaded in grease and comfort, Cole. That’s my only requirement for dinner,” she answers.

“That can go a variety of ways, Salem. Are we talking Chinese, Mexican, burgers?”

“Can we get Mexican? Sour cream enchiladas, an order of chips, a queso boat, and an extra-large order of guacamole would do the trick and hit the spot,” she supplies.

“Mexican it is. Los Sombreros downtown on Market Street delivers anything over thirty-five dollars. I have an obsession with their homemade tortillas and sopapillas.”

“Get honey!”

“Yes, ma’am. I’ll get our order in and have them bring it over. It’s usually an hour from the time I place the order to when they ring the bell. You gonna be out by then?”

“Yeah, Cole, I’ll be out.”

I rap my knuckle on the door before hesitantly stepping away, not wanting to leave her alone in case she gets dragged into a pit of despair or fear, but I do anyhow. I don’t want to overstep or cross any boundaries, especially seeing as I’m not sure what they are yet—we aren’t there… not yet, anyway.

Soon I’ll know how far I can push things before she breaks. But until then, we’ll eat, chill, and get to know one another better.