Pulling into the clubhouse parking lot, I'm pleased we did that run and cut an hour off the allotted time. It's only ten in the morning, and I need a nap before I open my auto body shop. I'm the proud owner of Lucky 8s, one of the busiest shops on this side of town, despite only being open for the last three years. It wasn't something I ever thought about until the shop I worked for decided to close. It's only three miles from the clubhouse and still on Emerald Isle property.
No sooner do I park the bike do Carrigan, Faylinn, and Trinity come striding out the doors with our prospect, Chad, trailing after them. He's got a huge red handprint on the side of his face and murder dancing in his eyes. Shutting off my bike, I pull off my helmet and set it on the back.
"What the hell is goi
