I was lucky I could hot wire Shirley’s truck parked at the Roost. Goddamn cage had pink and purple pin strips down a pink body and the same flaming high heels from their cut on the doors. I’d buckled Emery’s limp body inside before checking to see that Shirley had her ramp and tie downs in the back. Putting my motorcycle in the back of a truck was usually a two man job, but adrenaline was my friend. That and wanting to get the hell out of dodge before the Heelz caught on their President was shot dead on the floor of her cabin. At least one Mutherfuker was dead too. Little Ricky could survive a stabbing if they got to him in time. After securing my cruiser the best I could, I jumped out of the back to high-pitched screams. Someone had finally gone to check on Shirley. It’d only been moments later but they’d hesitated. Hearing a few gunshots around here could mean anything. Shirley could have been shooting a possum, showing off or showing up. I hopped in the cab and tore out of there like a bat out of hell, knowing they’d be close behind.
