The Rising Sons Motorcycle Club

by Davida Lynn

  He felt everything in that walk down to Vegas’s room. Every breath he took, ever step seemed magnified, like they held more weight than ever before. It was time. They could hear music playing, getting louder as they approached room eight.

  Passing the seventh door, Trask slowed, letting Gunner move beyond him. The music was coming from Vegas’ room. It worked in their favor. Between that and the closed curtains, they had surprise on their side. Trask backed up to the wall just before the door. Gunner stood in front of it. The two men each pulled out a gun and made their peace. Trask watched Gunner, waiting for the move.

  Gunner put a foot hard into the door, just inside the handle. The heavy door gave with a shower of wood splinters. Gunner had the gun pointed into the room, and a surprised man looked up from a bed.

  Gunner smiled. “Don’t fucking move, asshole.”

  The man slowly raised his hands. Gunner moved forward and grabbed the pistol that was sitting on the dresser opposite him. Trask checked outside once more before following Gunner in. He closed the door. He had to lift it to get it anywhere near the fame, but pushing the slider across held it in place. Trask kept his gun trained on the man on the bed as he followed Gunner.

  The bathroom door was closed. Frank Sinatra was singing about Strangers in the Night as Gunner and Trask moved into the hotel room. A broken mirror littered a desk and the floor right below it. Among the shards was a cell phone, and when Gunner turned the screen on, he saw a number of missed calls and texts. They were all from Carlos. The Mexican had told the truth, so he wasn’t a total shit.

  “What the fuck’s this all about?” The guy on the bed sounded strung out. He barely reacted when Trask told him to shut his damn mouth.

  They moved to the bathroom. Gunner didn’t wait for Trask to get in position this time. There was no need to kick in the door; it had no lock. Gunner grabbed the handle, turned, and pushed in with his shoulders.

  The bathroom was small, so small that the door hit Vegas hard, knocking him into the tub. His feet gave out and he slid against the tiled wall and fell in, grasping at the shower curtain for any support he could get. The crack of his head on porcelain rang out.

  Trask stood back, the gun trained through the doorway. Gunner was in the way of his shot, but Trask had his finger off the trigger and his eye on the first man on the bed.

  Gunner grabbed Vegas by his loose button-up shirt, his voice nothing more than a growl. “Get the fuck up, you Beach-Boy-lookin’ motherfucker.”

  Trask backed up as Gunner pulled Vegas out of the bathroom. His foot caught on the tub and as he fell, Gunner lost his grip on him. Vegas hit the floor hard, barely getting his hands out to stop himself. When Gunner grabbed him by the back of the neck and got him to his feet, he had left blood and at least one tooth on the bathroom floor.

  Gunner pushed Vegas forward and he toppled onto the bed alongside the other man. Vegas groaned and turned to a seated position with difficulty. Gunner waited, even though his heart was urging him to squeeze the trigger.

  When Vegas looked up, he was laughing through the blood, half of his face frozen while the other moved. “Well, the gang’s back together, again, huh?”

  Trask pulled the hammer back on his handgun and spoke through clenched teeth. “You motherfucker. I’m gonna wipe that smile off your fucking face, Vegas.”

  Gunner stepped between the two of them. He could see right away that Vegas couldn’t move fast at all. His balance was off, and it looked like he’d dropped about thirty pounds since the last time they saw him. “Hey, hey. Hold on, Trask.”

  “Yeah, Trask.” Vegas was laughing, slurring his words. “Better listen to the man.”

  Gunner turned back to Vegas. “Shut the fuck up, you worthless piece of shit. You killed brothers, put Bear in the hospital, and you’re laughing? Jesus Christ, maybe I should let Trask wail on you.”

  “Brothers? I killed brothers? They betrayed me, and you call them brothers? I was going to unite the Sons with Beezer and create an empire in California that would have made us richer than fuckin’ God, but no one would listen to me.”

  Trask actually lowered his gun. “What in the blue fuck are you talking about? From what I hear, you just snapped and took my girl hostage out of nowhere.”

  Vegas stopped laughing. “You didn’t get the facts, my friend. They wanted to go after Beezer and kill them all. I said no. I tried to explain to them that I could negotiate and talk sense into all parties.”

  “No.” Gunner stopped him, “No. You didn’t say a goddamn word about knowing that drug dealer. Even if you did, we don’t deal in drugs. It’s one of the things we just don’t touch. You fucking knew that, Vegas. Why in the fuck did you even join?”

  The pain in Gunner’s voice was clear. His brother was on his mind, and his index finger worked its way to the trigger. There was no remorse in Vegas’ voice, and his eyes were as cold as his words.

  Gunner turned to the other man. “Who’s this?”

  Vegas turned to his right. “Aldo. He’s another one of Beezer’s—”

  Before he could finish, Gunner brought his handgun up and squeezed off a round. Aldo lurched backward, and looking down, he saw the hole in his shirt begin to stain with blood. The crash of drums seemed to time perfectly with the gunfire, and Gunner wondered if it would be enough to cover up the report. He didn’t really care. They wouldn’t be in the hotel room much longer.

  Vegas’ jaw dropped. Aldo reached up with a weak hand to the wound as he sunk into the pillows against the headboard. His breath came in wheezes.

  “That’s for my brother, you piece of shit.”

  Trask raised his gun to Vegas. “And this is for my father, a good man whose only mistake was believing in some people a bit too much. See you in hell, you worthless fuckin’ traitor.”

  Gunner watched Vegas as Trask fired twice. Both shots hit him in the chest. First there was nothing, just silence and shock, but then tiny sanguine buds began to blossom across the fabric, soon reaching full bloom as Vegas slumped.

  “Fuck…” He swayed side to side for a few seconds before falling onto the bed and sinking down to the floor. He crumpled at Gunner’s feet.

  The ride back was just what Gunner needed to clear his thoughts. With Vegas dead, he looked to the future. Trigger’s death was still weighing heavy on his mind. He knew that revenge wouldn’t make it go away, but at least he felt that there were no loose ends that would eat at him.

  He knew in time that the hurt would fade. He and Trigger had lost both parents young. The enormity of that kind of loss wasn’t all that new to him, but in some ways, that only made the pain worse. The two brothers were all that was left of the Keller line, and now it was just Gunner.

  Thoughts of Raven eased the pain. He wasn’t alone. He had a club filled with brothers, and he had her. He’d taken a chance letting her into a place no other woman had been, and he had been rewarded with the love of an amazing woman. He loved how strong she was, and how they didn’t need each other, but they made each other better.

  She eased his pain, and she made the weary ride back to Bakersfield tolerable. Despite his exhaustion, both physical and mental, he was energized by the thought of her, and he was even eager to get back to see her. Gunner hadn’t been happy sending her back, but he needed a leader for the return journey, and it was her.

  As Trask and Gunner chased the setting sun westward, he pushed his shades against his face and counted down the miles to Raven.

  Three days after Las Vegas, things returned to normal. Faith was back to her daily hospital stays. Only one Rising Son guarded Bear’s room, and it was far less formal than when Vegas was hunting them down.

  Los Bandoleros remained taped off, but no criminal investigation ever came of it. Gunner wondered if the cop Raven used to fuck had learned his lesson and decided to pay the Sons one last favor.

  It was a Wednesday evening, and everyone had gotten a message from Trask telling them to meet at the old bar. Nearing twilight, the headlight
s of nearly twenty Harleys made their way to the remains of Los Bandoleros.

  As the bikers sat on their rides, Gunner stood in front of the wall, looking into their headlights.

  “A moment of silence for those we’ve lost.”

  He bowed his head and thought of his brother and the others lost in the past weeks.

  He nodded, then looked around, “To Trigger, to Artie, to Walburg, to Clyde, to Pitt. Best of the best, brothers for life.”

  Leaning against the bottom of the wall were pictures of all of the men that the Rising Sons Motorcycle Club had lost. The bikers stood in silence and honored the memories of those who had been killed in action.

  Gunner went on, “Maybe you think that the club was too relaxed, or maybe you think we didn’t deal well with the threats that were presented to us. Whatever you think, I want you to know that nothing like this will ever happen again. I never want to lose another one of you. I couldn’t stand to lose anyone else. As the de facto president of the Rising Sons, I make that promise to you.

  “From the ashes, we will rebuild. On this very site, we will break ground on a new club. It will be better than before, and it will be a place where motorcycle enthusiasts will be welcomed and trouble will not. In three months’ time, we will have our first official meeting at the brand new Bear’s Place.”

  His announcement was met with cheers. The applause went on for two minutes. It faded only when Gunner raised his hand. “I’d also like to announce that we will have a new Sergeant-at-Arms. I am proud to say that this person has proven over the last month that hard work, strength, and loyalty aren’t just for men. I want to congratulate Raven on her new position within our ranks. She’s to be treated with the respect she has earned and deserves.”

  Raven thought there would be some opposition, but the applause and cheers were just as loud for her. She beamed, and in that moment, she was more than glad to be hidden in the darkness behind the headlights. Her cheeks were on fire. She still had some work to do on her composure. Her heart swelled with pride and love for Gunner. He was a natural leader, and he had the Rising Sons’ hearts, along with hers.

  She smiled and watched him as he spoke. “We will mourn those we lost, but we will not remain still as we do it. The Rising Sons will grow and honor our fallen through that growth.” He paused, and Raven thought she saw him breaking his character. “And I just want to say that personally, I love each and every one of you dirty, rude, rugged outlaw motherfuckers, and I’d never live my life any other way.”

  The bikers cheered louder than they had before. One by one they stepped into the headlight glow and embraced. They shook hands, hugged, and slapped each other on the back. Somehow Raven made her way through the crowd and found Gunner. He picked her up, and she giggled in surprise.

  He slid her body down his, and as they embraced, he whispered in her ear, “It’s all golden from here, babe.”

  She pulled away from him and nodded. Before she kissed Gunner, she wiped the tear from beneath his cheek so the other bikers wouldn’t see it. She knew he wouldn’t care if they did, but he was one of the most badass bikers in California, and she wanted everyone to know it. He smiled and the two kissed, their passion growing by the second.

  Faith was sound asleep, her hand still holding Bear’s. One of the nurses came to check on Bear’s vitals and before she left, she laid a blanket over Faith. In the three days that she had been back, there hadn’t been any change in his condition. Her resolve didn’t waver, though. Hope had used her few contacts to get a second opinion, but it was the same as the first: the coma could end any day, or it could go on indefinitely.

  Against her son’s advice, Faith had returned to the hospital room the day that they had returned from Las Vegas. He could only throw his hands up and accept that his mother was as stubborn as his father.

  Faith turned in her chair. Since returning, her nights had been far more restless, and when she did sleep, her dreams were dark. Her hand slipped from the limp weight of Bear’s, but only for a second.

  She felt a squeeze, shaking her from the sleep. Her eyes were still glossed over when his voice crackled through the air.

  “Hey there, darlin’.” Bear’s voice was weak, but Faith could have picked out his warm tone in a loud room.

  She opened her eyes as her brows turned upward. A lump came to her throat in an instant, and she choked out a laugh. “Hey, yourself.”

  Bear’s eyes were twitching, and he finally managed to get them open. Turning his head to the side made him strain in pain. Faith put a soft hand on his chest. “Take it easy, big boy. You’ve been through a hell of a lot.”

  He stopped trying to move. Faith stood over him so he could see her. He squeezed her hand, and she had to wipe a tear from below her eye. “Mind catching me up?”

  Faith told him about Vegas, the accident, and everything that followed. She went through a fair share of tissues telling the story. She knew that she had to get the nurses in to look over Bear, but she wanted a few minutes with her husband alone.

  He listened to her recount the attack on Los Bandoleros, the Rising Sons that had been lost, and her kidnapping. Faith stopped when the heart monitor attached to Bear began to shoot up.

  “You need to relax, baby. I know it’s a lot to take in. I need to get the nurses in here.”

  Bear managed a smile, almost breaking Faith’s heart, “Before that, you owe me a kiss. It’s been too long, darlin’.”

  Laughing through the tears, Faith leaned down. “Yes it has, Bear.” They kissed for the first time in over two weeks. A weight the size of Las Vegas lifted off Faith’s shoulders.

  “What happens now?” Raven was lying on her stomach, her bikini top off and crumpled beside the towel. The bikini was only for show—there was no one around for miles. She got up onto her elbows, partially to eye Gunner, and partially to let him eye her.

  He was sitting in the dust, leaning against Raven’s Harley. For a while, she watched him. She knew he had heard her, and she waited with all the patience she had. It was easy with him. She knew she’d be rewarded with a good answer in due time.

  He looked to her, maybe noticing her exposed breasts for the first time. He smiled at her, and she could almost see his warm eyes behind the sunglasses. “Like I told the boys. We rebuild. We’ll be stronger than ever before.”

  Raven nodded. She rolled to her back and sat up. Pulling her hair back, she rolled the scrunchie from her wrist, tying her hair into a messy ponytail. She smiled at Gunner and beckoned him to her. He looked down and shook his head with a laugh, then crawled the ten feet from his motorcycle to Raven.

  When he sat down, she sat in his lap, her legs extending out behind him. “And what about us, Gunner?” She pulled the sunglasses from his face and rested them on her head.

  “What about us?”

  “What happens now?”

  In typical fashion, Gunner made her wait. “You and I are going to tie the knot, that’s what.”

  “Oh, are we? How presumptuous of you. What if I say no?”

  He smiled, kissing Raven where her neck met her shoulders. “Then you’ve got a long walk back to town, little girl. Besides, you already said yes.”

  She let out a moan. “Funny, I believe I was the one that rode out here today.”

  Gunner pulled back and pointed a finger at her, “And if you tell anyone that, I’ll deny it to my grave.”

  She laughed, pulling him back to her sensitive shoulders. “You really wanna marry me?”

  Gunner nodded as he kissed down Raven’s body to her naked, sun-kissed chest, “You bet I fuckin’ do.”