For so long that had been David Creely’s solution to everything. Life got too complicated, or money got too tight—just drive. He would put on his boots and jacket, get on his bike, and just drive. Sometimes he never came back. He could still remember the girl he had met in Columbus, Ohio. She had been a bored secretary who had taken a liking to him. She lived in a cookie-cutter condo, the furniture and décor had come with the place, and she had never changed it in any way. She had so little personality it was scary, but she had been terribly lonely and so David had spent a week eating her food and sharing her bed—until he got up one day for a drive and never came back. But he couldn’t do that anymore. When he had joined God’s Reapers, he had taken an oath of loyalty to the club. He was a member for life and that worked both ways. The club couldn’t leave him, and he couldn’t leave it—even if three quarters of the members were currently sitting in a holding cell at the precinct.
