Wind rippled through my hair and clothing as I tore down I-75 on the back of my cousin, Everett's, motorcycle. Everett's dad and my mom were brother and sister. I didn't see a lot of him, except at the holidays. He'd grown up in the rodeo circuit, following in his dad and my footsteps of barrel racing. But when he turned eighteen, he traded a horse for a hog. He showed up that Thanksgiving wearing a leather cut, signifying he'd joined a MC club. Although he had a road name of “Rodeo", none of us in the family called him that.
I'd met up with Everett and two his buddies at their club roadhouse. After eyeing the two hulking guys, I swallowed hard. “Easy, cuz. They're on our side, remember?"
“I know." I pulled on Everett's sleeve. “If you guys help me out, does it that mean I'm going to owe
