The Rising Sons Motorcycle Club

by Davida Lynn

  Faith didn’t know anyone in Las Vegas, not that it mattered. Her cell phone was gone. She let out a long sigh. She had new information, sure, but there wasn’t much that she could do with it. She was still stuck underground somewhere in the Nevada desert. Not much to do but sit and wait for the Rising Sons to wipe this worthless scum off the earth.

  The only good thing was the adrenaline was keeping her a bit warmer.

  Faith napped, but the dark dreams returned. She woke with a start, her mind already forgetting the blackness as she heard the two-by-four being pulled from the door. Her heart raced, more from the dream than from the door. She sat up, feeling the soreness in her hip in full swing.

  Running a hand through her hair, Faith did the best she could to put on a good show. The door pulled open. She expected the same man to appear, but she could tell right away from the light shining on the boots that it was not. These boots weren’t for riding motorcycles. They were for riding horses, spurs and all.

  He stepped in. The man was older and rounder than the guard. He didn’t have any tattoos that were visible, but his arms were covered. He wore a cowboy shirt with a bolo tie. There was a confident smile on his face. The guard came in behind him and set up a folding chair, and the man sat down. The guard slipped out and closed the door, but Faith didn’t hear the two-by-four lock the door in place.

  The dark-skinned man smiled at her. Looking around, he waved his arms. “I’m sorry about all of this.” There was a hint of an accent. Faith didn’t look around. Her stare was focused on him. He went on anyway. “I didn’t want to have to send someone to get you. It’s so… uncivilized. So for that, I apologize.”

  “You must be Carlos Maldonado.” Faith didn’t care what the man thought was and was not civilized. She knew who this man was by his clothing. He was whoever Vegas hired to run the goon squad. This wasn’t a man who got his hands dirty often.

  He paused and smiled at her. “My name is Carlos Maldonado, sí, and you are Faith Rivers, wife of Bear.”

  Faith tilted her head. She made sure her words were cold and had a hint of anger in them. “Carlos, we can cut through the bullshit. I know why you dragged me kicking and screaming from a hospital room. I’m here so you can get a ransom.”

  Carlos was taken aback. Like the guard, he probably expected Faith to be somewhat scared. Whatever happened between the hospital and Las Vegas, Faith was too tired to be scared.

  “Uh, yes. That is the sum of things. We mean you no harm. Again, I regret that things came to this. Men were promised money, and they were unable to get that money. This is nothing more than business. You are a commodity.” The power began to return to his voice.

  “They won’t pay.” Faith looked away.

  Carlos chuckled to himself, “The mother of one president, the wife of another, and they won’t pay? Come now, you really think I’ll believe that?”

  She looked back to him. “Believe this: they are on their way out here this very minute. They will be within Las Vegas limits by noon. They will not pay. Instead, they will come down on you harder than you can imagine. Execute your threat, and they will do far worse. If you hurt me, the Rising Sons will kill everyone you know, then torture you until you beg to be with your families in hell. Believe that. It’s nothing more than business for them, too.”

  Faith brushed some hair from her face and waited to see what Carlos would say. He took in every word. Lives were on the line in a very real way.

  “They have no idea who we are, and they have no idea where to find us.” Carlos spoke with simple ease. He was confident.

  Faith didn’t speak for a few seconds, letting him enjoy his little victory. “You think I don’t know that Vegas hired you? We know he’s out for revenge, and we know he needed to a crew, and that costs money. Real bikers have loyalty and ride for free, but someone like Vegas couldn’t get stray dogs to follow him if he had bacon in his pockets.

  “You don’t have to say anything, I know I’m right. We got all kinds of information out of one of your soldiers. That’s the kind of loyalty money buys. We know people in Las Vegas. Do you really think we would ride out here with no clue where to find you and your ragtag team of shit-eating mercenaries? Carlos, I asked if we could politely cut through the bullshit. You can let me go, or you can hang. I’m trying to offer you a head start, here.”

  She grinned and leaned back against the concrete wall. It was cold, but Faith didn’t feel it one bit. She didn’t feel the bruise on her hip as she moved, either. She was flying high.

  Carlos stood up so fast the folding chair fell backward and landed with a metallic crash. The guard yanked the door right open. He looked from Carlos to Faith and back again. He picked the chair up from the floor as Carlos walked around him. With one final look, the boss shoved his way past the door.

  The guard took the chair out and slammed the door. There was a short exchange in Spanish, then the wood slid down, locking her inside again.

  Faith hoped her bluffs were true. She knew half as much as she had said, but her guesses had proven correct. There was mistrust between Vegas and Maldonado. Even if the former Rising Son wasn’t upstairs, Faith could tell that Maldonado would give him up without much of a fight.

  All she had to do was sit back, wait, and hope that things didn’t end bloody.

  Harleys lined the street outside Tanner’s house. The sun wasn’t up for another half hour, but the Rising Sons were ready for a fight. The bikes were fueled, what remained of the weapons were loaded, and the bikers were eager.

  Jenny was inside making coffee in the machine and on the stove to accommodate everyone. The place was filled with Rising Sons and new recruits. They were drinking coffee from mugs, plastic cups, and anything else Tanner’s girlfriend could find in the cabinets. Most were out in the garage, where there was some open space, but some were in the house too.

  Tanner was in a rush, talking to everyone. He walked by Jenny in the kitchen, slapping her on the ass and kissing her on the lips when she turned to protest. She laughed as he walked away. Raven came in and spotted her. Jenny smiled.

  “Can I do anything?” Raven looked around at the chaos.

  Jenny laughed. “You didn’t bring any coffee mugs, did you? They’re gonna need to stop by a Starbucks on the way.”

  “They’ll manage. They’re used to falling into bed just about now, still half-drunk, but once the sun is out and we get closer to the city, they’ll wake right up.”

  Raven looked for worry on Jenny’s face. She was new to the biker life, and Raven wasn’t sure how she’d take to the fighting. The attack on the bar had shaken her up, but she knew what was at stake. She had wanted to send Tanner back in, but he insisted on staying outside to protect her.

  Raven wanted to be sure. “Are you all right letting Tanner go?” She watched Jenny’s eyes.

  “Are you kidding? There’s gonna be twenty-some bikers along with him. I know it’ll be dangerous. I guess I’m sort of deluding myself, but I know he’ll come back.”

  “I’ll make sure he comes back myself,” Raven promised.

  Jenny nodded. If they were alone, they might have hugged, but before it could happen, Raven turned and headed back out to the garage. Other bikers took her place, demanding more of the steaming caffeine.

  Trask, Tanner, and Gunner were in the garage talking to Captain. He had gotten a little bit of information, but nothing too useful. Raven approached just as he was explaining.

  “My brother-in-law couldn’t pin down an address on Carlos, but we got the address of his cousin. From what he heard, the cousin spent a few weeks modifying a custom bike for someone that couldn’t use their left leg all that well. Said it was a younger dude. It ain’t much, but it’s something.”

  Trask and tanner looked at each other. Trask shrugged, "It's more information than we had before."

  "Is it enough to roll on?" Tanner looked around at the small group. It was shaky, and he knew it. He could see in the eyes around him that they all knew it. Trask
would have ridden to Nevada with no evidence, knowing it was a fool's errand. Tanner wasn't sure if the grease monkey would have any good information, but it was worth a shot. With Faith missing, they had no choice.

  Captain nodded. "I'd say so. My brother-in-law is still on the case, so we might know more by the time we get into Sin City.”

  “My dad,” Trask said between sips of coffee, “said that they had a beef with a gang from Vegas in the late nineties. Captain, what do you know about it?”

  The men in the circle moved aside and made room for Raven. She stepped into the group. Captain smiled at her before he spoke. “The Desert Demons. One of the richest biker gangs in the west; you can probably guess why. I knew a few of them back in the day, and goddamn, you should hear about the shit they pulled. Bear got into it with their prez over a charity, of all things.”

  Raven couldn’t help herself. “Get the fuck outta here.”

  Captain laughed. “I ain’t shitting you. I forget what it was called, Bikes for Tykes, something saccharine sweet like that. We’d given to that club for years, and once the Demons got rich, they threw a ton of money at them to outshine us, basically.

  “Friendly words from Bear were met with insults, and it escalated from there. It ended bloody. Their prez—I can’t remember his name—ended up dying, and after that the club fell apart. One good leader goes a long way to keeping a club rolling. Trask, you expecting trouble when we cross the border?”

  “Not expecting, but anticipating anything and everything.” He looked to each man and Raven. He knew it would be a long day, and he also knew that some of his brothers might not ride home. It was a fact becoming all too clear.

  Captain understood. “I really can’t think of any of the old Demons who would be after us fifteen years down the road.”

  “If you say so, Cap.” Trask checked his watch. “I think we’re about there. Gunner, let’s split them in two and ride a few minutes apart. I’ll take point. Captain, I want you on my side.” The old-timer nodded in understanding.

  Gunner looked to his left. “Raven, you’re on point.” She nodded.

  Trask shrugged. “Let’s light the fires, then, boys.”

  They broke from the circle and headed out of Tanner’s garage. Raven’s heart soared. To hear her lover say he wanted her at his side showed his confidence and respect for her. She knew it would be a tough battle, but the events of the past month had really let her qualities shine through. Even knowing that they were heading into the storm, she felt good.

  Once all the bikers were out of Tanner’s house, they stood in a large clump in the driveway listening to Gunner. “…from the mechanic’s, if everything goes to plan, we’ll be heading for Maldonado’s place. I want everyone on high alert from the time we cross into Nevada. Any questions?” After a few seconds of silence, he clapped his hands together. “Good. I want everyone to ride back to Bakersfield tonight, so don’t do anything stupid. Bow your heads, let’s say a prayer. Trask, if you would?”

  “Dear Lord, don’t let anything get fucked.”

  Every Rising Son in attendance spoke in unison. “Amen.”

  Ten minutes later, as the sun rose, twenty-seven Harley Davidsons tore through a quiet residential neighborhood. Twenty-seven riders out for revenge and rescue. Twenty-seven bikers with war in their hearts.

  Raven rode at the head of the second group, side by side with Gunner. He looked over at her and smiled. She couldn’t help but think he looked incredibly sexy with his sunglasses and bandana on. He was decked out in almost all black.

  She thought he looked so powerful as he lead a group of twelve of the newer members and mercenaries. They’d be the first group in, once they knew where Maldonado and his men were. After Trask’s group covered the building, Gunner, Raven, and their team would be the ones making entry.

  Her heart raced at the chance to be on the alpha team. She had cut her teeth as the rear scout and later during the attack on Los Bandoleros. She had proven herself time and time again. She couldn’t hide the smile as they pulled onto the highway heading South. Raven had worked hard for everything in her life, and even though she was sleeping with Gunner, she knew she had earned her place beside him.

  If there was another Rising Son more capable than her, he would have had no problem choosing that man to ride alongside, and Raven knew it. Gunner wasn’t going to give her any special treatment. She felt warmer at that thought.

  The engines screamed in the early morning as the bikers leaned into the wind, waiting for the sun to rise and warm their faces as they headed for Las Vegas. Raven pulled ahead once they got on the two-lane. She weaved the bike back and forth across the lanes, feeling the wind in her hair and against her skin. She wondered if her mind was trying to block out what would happen later that day. She shook the thought away. It was four hours to Vegas, and she was going to enjoy the drive like it was any other day.

  Captain was on his phone, a little over three miles ahead of the second group. His brother-in-law wasn’t awake, and he intended to change that. There was important shit going down, and if Jerry couldn’t get off his ass for once in his life, Captain would drive straight to his house to administer an ass-kicking.

  Jerry finally picked up the call. His voice was groggy. “Yeah?”

  “Anything new?” Captain turned his face to try and minimize the wind blowing on the phone, but there was only so much he could do.

  “I’ve got the address for the mechanic—the guy’s cousin. Maldonado, himself? He’s an under-the-table enforcer for some of the casinos. The guy doesn’t have an address on file, and no one I could talk to would say much about him. Lay the squeeze on the mechanic. It’s the best I can offer you, Owen.”

  Captain shuddered at the sound of his given name. It had been a long time since he’d heard it. Even his sister didn’t call him that anymore. “That’s not the best you can offer me, Jer. Keep on it, and text me your address. If we need a place to camp, you’d better have s’mores ready. I’ll call you when we hit the city limits.”

  Captain hung up before Jerry could try and stop him. He looked over to Trask and shook his head. No new info.

  Faith couldn’t count the hours. She knew it had been a while, but no one had visited her. The glass block made it hard to track the sun, and timelessness had slipped over her. She wondered how close the Rising Sons were to finding her.

  They’d be after Vegas, but if he was hiding behind Maldonado, it might make him harder to find. She rubbed the bruise without even thinking about it. This was what prison was like for Bear, she thought.

  Faith wasn’t cracking at the seams, but she knew it wouldn’t be more than a few days before she would. Bear had done three years, and he had come out stronger than ever before. He had vision. He had purpose. Faith admired her husband even more, just after one night in captivity. She understood how easily it could break someone. Sure, a federal prison with guards and structure was different from being kidnapped by renegade bikers, but the principle was the same: your life was no longer your own.

  With nothing to do but think, Faith longed for a book or even a baseball to throw against the concrete. She was beginning to think about pounding on the door, if just for someone to talk to. Anything to break the endless nothing in the basement cell.

  Every thought contradicted the previous one. She was fine, and then she wasn’t. She was strong, but then a crippling fear would wash over her. She didn’t care about the clock anymore, although she would have given an arm or leg to check her cell phone. She became acutely aware of every involuntary movement. Her heart seemed to pound, even at a resting rate. Each breath was a work of labor. She knew she was going stir-crazy, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  When Faith heard the faint sound of footsteps on the stairs, she thanked God for sending someone.

  The wood slid up from the door as Faith sat straight up at the end of her cot. The door opened, and Carlos stepped back inside. The same guard as before set down the folding chair, and
Carlos lowered himself down with a sigh. “Are you willing to talk to me, or are we just going to volley insults back and forth, Mrs. Rivers?”