RAW: THE ULTIMATE MC COLLECTION

by Palomino, Honey

  But I had to try. For her sake. For my parent’s sake. Fuck, for my own sake. I hadn’t been able to sleep for days thinking about her, and now that I knew she had been at Mason’s, probably cock-teasing him mercilessly, I knew I had to do something.

  Fuck! I threw my bottle of whiskey at the door, the pieces shattering on the floor and the smell filling the room.

  Five minutes later, I was flying down Central Expressway on my way to Mason’s house. When I got there, Rebel was sitting on the front porch and Mason wasn’t home. She seemed surprised to see me.

  “Harley!” She ran up to me, threw her arms around me and kissed me on the cheek.

  “Hey, Rebel.” I was not in the mood to be nice, I just wanted to get her the fuck out of there and get her back to my place as quickly as possible.

  “Get your shit.”

  “What? Where are we going?” she asked, her eyes big and wide with confusion.

  “To my house. Go. Now.” I was not breaking a smile, no matter how sweet she tried to be.

  “Really, Harley? That’s so awesome, thank you so much!”

  “You shouldn’t have lied to me about Missy, and you shouldn’t have come home with Mason.” I said sternly.

  “I know. I’m so sorry, Harley. I just…I don’t know why I lied.”

  “Whatever. It’s over now. Just go get your shit and let’s get out of here.”

  “Okay, you got it, thank you again!” She bounced into Mason’s house just as my cell phone rang.

  “Yeah?” I answered.

  “It’s Mason.”

  “Yeah, I know. What is it?”

  “Look, man, I’m sorry about earlier, but that’s not why I’m calling. Johnny called. Says there been a change, but he won’t tell me about it over the phone, insists that you meet him at the graveyard.”

  “Fuck. Alright. When?” This was important. Johnny was the leader of El Loco Gatos, the Mexican gang based out of Oak Cliff that was doing the deal with the Garcia cartel. He was a friend, and we had agreed a long time ago that Dallas would be a much peaceful place if we worked together, instead of against each other. We trusted and respected each other. Which is why he told me about being approached by the cartel.

  “Right now. Says he won’t meet with anyone but you. Are you free?”

  “Not exactly. Goddammit.” The Western Heights Cemetery was an old decrepit graveyard in Oak Cliff that was the same place Clyde Barrow, of Bonnie and Clyde fame, was buried. Nobody would ever bury another body in that run down, abandoned place, and it was a great place for meetings to take place.

  “Alright, I’ll be there in half an hour.”

  “Okay, I’ll let him know,” Mason replied.

  “Cool. Oh, and Mason? I’ve got Rebel. I’m at your house right now, picking her up.”

  “Oh. You do?” Don’t sound so shocked, motherfucker, I thought to myself.

  “Yeah. I’m gonna take her to my house and drop her off.”

  “Um, okay, cool, cool. That’s great. Thanks, Harley.” “Yeah, whatever. I’ll meet you at the clubhouse after the meeting and let you know what’s up.”

  “Okay, see you there, boss.”

  I hung up without another word, wondering what was taking Rebel so long. Taking her to my house, then driving back to Oak Cliff was going to be a bitch in rush hour traffic, and I wasn’t sure I had enough time to do it to meet Johnny in time. Suddenly, I wished I hadn’t spent so much time staring at the wall and trying to figure out what to do.

  “Hurry the fuck UP, Rebel!” I screamed to the back of the house as I walked in.

  Looking around, it was obvious Rebel had been cleaning while she was there. Mason’s house had never been so tidy.

  She called from the back room that she was almost done, but it still took her another ten minutes to get out. By the time we were on the back of my bike and roaring down the road, I was out of time.

  Goddammit, there was no way I could take her home first. I would just have to take her with me, because there was absolutely no chance I could miss this meeting.

  I turned the bike around, getting on the freeway and heading towards Oak Cliff. Oak Cliff was one of the oldest neighborhoods in Dallas, part Mexican ghetto, part old mansions owned by old money, now inhabited by yuppies who had done their best to gentrify it. Most people in Dallas had a love/hate relationship with it, and I was no different.

  Rebel and I had grown up here. Our parents had bought a house here when they first got together, the clubhouse being our secondary home. Unfortunately, the courts auctioned it off after they went to jail, but every time I came back, I couldn’t help but feel a bit of nostalgia as I drove down the streets of the Cliff.

  I pulled up in front of a house around the corner from the cemetery and told Rebel to get out.

  “What’s this?” she asked, looking around.

  “I need to drop you here. I have an unexpected meeting I have to attend. At the cemetery around the corner. Just sit your ass on this curb and wait for me. I shouldn’t be more than ten minutes.”

  “Oh. Um…” she looked as if she was going to argue with me, but the look on my face made her stop short. “Sure, Harley, whatever you say.”

  “Thank you. I’ll be right back. Stay here and don’t fucking go anywhere, understand?”

  “Sure, sure…” she obeyed like a well-trained dog, setting her backpack on the sidewalk, and promptly sitting on the curb.

  “Alright. I’m gonna leave my bike here, too. Be right back.”

  I walked around the corner to the cemetery, ignored the no trespassing sign, and hopped the chain-link fence.

  Johnny was already waiting for me, standing outside of the fenced off area where Clyde Barrow’s grave was located. He looked like your typical low-rider gang banger - baggie khakis, shiny pointy loafers, a red bandana around his forehead and a button-up shirt, buttoned up all the way to his tattooed neck.

  He stood with a slouch, one hand in his pocket, probably fingering his gun, and yet smiling the friendliest smile at me as I walked up.

  “He was buried in the same plot as his brother,” I told him.

  “Yeah, I see that. What a crazy life he led, huh?”

  “I guess. Back when life was simpler and people only fought over money, mostly. It’s so much easier to make money now that you don’t have to rob a bank to do it,” I said.

  “Ain’t that the truth,” he replied.

  “So what’s up, Johnny? What’s so important that you couldn’t tell Mason over the phone?” I couldn’t help but think about Rebel, she was bound to wander off at anytime.

  “The cartel contacted us. Said they had something come up. Need to reschedule our meeting for Saturday at noon, same meeting place - the Mercury Warehouse in Deep Ellum.”

  “Okay, fine. That gives us more time to prepare. And we can still have Maverick’s birthday party Friday night.”

  He nodded at me, his eyes still trained on the grave in front of him.

  “You and your men are invited, Johnny. Mi casa es tu casa, you know.”

  “Thank you for your hospitality, Harley. I’ll tell the boys. We’ll be there. And then on Saturday morning, if you need anything from us at all, you just let us know.”

  “No, I want you to go in and do the deal as you normally would. The less you and your boys know, the better. I don’t want the cartel knowing you tipped us off. Less heat on you.”

  “Alright, but you know we can handle a lot of heat, Harley, but I appreciate that. We’ll see you Friday night, but remember, we’ll have your back, just in case.”

  “Thank you, my friend.”

  We shook hands, and I turned to walk away.

  “I’m in a hurry, Johnny, but I’ll see you Friday night!”

  “Have a good day, Harley.”

  I hopped the fence and ran around the corner to the bike, my heart racing with worry that Rebel had done something stupid and wouldn’t be there.

  But she was.

  And the sight of her made
me laugh out loud. She was straddling my bike, her hands gripping the handlebars, and looking over her shoulder at me.

  “Hey, remember when you and Mason taught me to ride?”

  “Of course I do. How could I forget?”

  “Yeah…it was pretty awesome. I haven’t had a chance to ride again since I was twelve. Maybe you can give me a quick refresher and let me ride your bike around?”

  “Hell fucking no. You’re not riding my bike, sorry.”

  She hopped off, crossed her arms, and began pouting like a schoolgirl.

  “Fine, I’ll just get Mason to show me.”

  “Oh, my god. Shut up. Alright, I’ll give you a refresher.”

  “Sweet, thanks!” She jumped off the curb, got on behind me with her backpack, and I started the bike with a thunderous roar. Of course she wanted to ride, I thought to myself. It’s in her blood.

  “Put your things away, and then meet me in the garage,” I told her, after I turned off the bike in the driveway of my house in East Dallas. On the drive over, I had contemplated if what I was about to do was a good idea, but I knew it would make Rebel insanely happy, and I figured if I could find a way to trust her, maybe she would prove to be trustworthy.

  Besides, she needed a way to get around. And she was a grown woman now, despite the occasional pouting.

  When she walked into the garage, he mouth dropped open when she saw me.

  “No fucking way!” she squealed.

  “Yep,” I said, smirking.

  “I can’t believe it! You still have my bike! It looks amazing, Harley!” She threw her arms around me, kissing my cheek quickly, and then turning her attention to the bright red, shiny Harley 250 that my dad, Mason and I had restored for her years ago.

  I couldn’t bear to part with it over the years, so I had kept it covered up in my garage, occasionally polishing it and starting it up, tinkering with it now and then.

  “Yeah, well, nobody else wants a tiny Harley but you. So, here you go. Since you aren’t twelve anymore, you can have it. Sorry, I know you were supposed to get it for your sixteenth birthday, but I guess things didn’t exactly work out that way.”

  I felt bad, the lost years flooding my memory, and I wished I had done so much more for Rebel. Hell, I wished I had done anything, but instead I had been a selfish asshole. She was my sister, after all.

  “No, it’s okay, Harley, really. Thank you so much, I’m so excited I could pee my pants!” She danced around the bike, her eyes lit up with happiness, and I couldn’t help but smile as I watched her.

  “You know, I don’t think I forgot much at all. I’ve ridden in my dreams for years…” her voice trailed off wistfully, as she jumped on the bike, her hands fondling every inch of the shiny, classic machine.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Rebel

  I couldn’t believe my eyes when I saw Harley standing next to my old bike. Watching my dad and Mason and Harley restore that bike for me, painting it a bright cherry red at my request, was one of my fondest memories.

  I did help, a little, but my dad was using that project to teach Mason and Harley how to restore and I was strictly forbidden to interfere once they were deep into it. I wasn’t supposed to learn how to ride it until I was sixteen, but Mason and Harley couldn’t stand the thought of waiting anymore than I could, and we had many opportunities to take it out of the garage when our old man wasn’t around.

  Still, it took me weeks to convince them to teach me to ride. They both knew they would get a beating if they got caught putting me on a bike, as both my mom and dad were beyond adamant that I wait till I was sixteen. But the concept of waiting what seemed like years to three kids was torturous and impossible.

  So, they gave in to my constant nagging, insisting I wear full leathers and a helmet every single time, and they went about patiently taught me to ride, each of them running along at my side as I puttered along, the bike lurching and jerking every which way until it all finally came together in my head, and I was riding around the parking lot of Walmart all by myself.

  I had never been happier than that day. The freedom! The feeling of independence, for the very first time. It was addictive and intoxicating, and I begged for more at every opportunity.

  I had even started a countdown until my sixteenth birthday, where I was planning on pretending that I knew nothing about riding, so I could let my dad teach me and then I wouldn’t have to hide it from my parents. I could go to school on my bike, to the mall, anywhere I wanted to go. It sounded like heaven, and to my twelve year old brain, it sounded like a future. A future as part of the MC lifestyle, the only life I had ever known. I grew up seeing myself in it, somehow, any way at all I might fit in. When I looked to the future, my life was filled with leather and bikes, and it was a future I looked forward to with all the passion of a little girl looking up to her father and wanting to be just like him.

  It was a future I never got to have.

  But Harley did. And I had to admit that I was absolutely seething with jealously. I wanted it then, and I wanted it now. Nothing had changed.

  Except everything.

  As it turned out, Harley was even more opposed to having women anywhere near the MC than my dad was. I got it, I understood. He was just being protective, especially of me.

  But I was determined to change his mind. If I could just convince him to let me hang out for just a little while, he would see that there wasn’t any trouble that was going to happen, and he would let me do it more and more.

  I just had to be patient.

  But this was a good start. After Harley gave me a quick refresher course, I was on my way down the street, my black hair falling out of the bottom of the helmet Harley gave me, and flapping in the wind behind me.

  I had told him I was just going to go for a short ride, and it took all my willpower not to ride back over to Mason’s house. I was dying to see the look on his face when he saw me ride up. He didn’t live too far away, but the last thing I wanted to do was piss off Harley, so I went for a short ride, and then returned home.

  Harley was in the kitchen making dinner when I got back.

  “So? Smooth ride?”

  “Oh, my god, yes! Harley, you are the best brother ever!” I kissed him on the cheek again, still in disbelief that he was being so kind to me. First, he picks me up from Mason’s, gives me a place to stay, and then gives me a bike? His attitude sure was different than the other day, I thought to myself.

  “Well, I don’t know about that…” he said, under his breath, reminding us both of his long absence in my life.

  I hated it. The past would always be hanging over us, only allowing us brief moments of forgetting, before it barreled back into our consciousness.

  “Well, I do! I’m going to take a shower.” I trotted to the back of the house, determined not to let the past creep into my perfect day.

  As I was showering, I remembered Harley’s meeting with the guy in the graveyard. I knew he would be pissed if he knew I was watching and listening in, but I couldn’t resist following him earlier. I wasn’t about to tell him, but I couldn’t help but wonder what was happening on Saturday afternoon at the Mercury Warehouse in Deep Ellum. Club business, no doubt.

  Once again, just thinking about it made me want to be a part of it so badly it hurt. I yearned to know all the gory details, just as I had when I was a kid. It excited me. At one point, I had started asking my dad questions, but he put a stop to that as soon as it started.

  So, I knew not to ask Harley about it, because I knew he wouldn’t talk about it.

  As my thoughts drifted back and forth between my pure elation at receiving my bike, and intense curiosity about what was going down on Saturday, a seed of a plan began forming in my head. No matter how hard I tried to push it away, I knew it was going to take all of my willpower to avoid showing up and secretly watching them on Saturday.

  After my shower, as Harley and I were having dinner, I was delighted when he invited me to Maverick’s birthday party
tomorrow night. I hadn’t been to a party since I was a kid, and as I continued to try to push my forbidden plan to the back of my mind, I distracted myself with trying to decide what, out of my measly collection of clothes, I should wear to catch Mason’s eye.

  Out of everything, Mason was the one thing that was proving absolutely impossible to not think about.

  He had penetrated not just my body, but my heart, and my soul. And while it felt better than anything I had ever felt in my life just to think about him, I couldn’t shake an underlying feeling of doom every time his face flashed in my mind.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  Mason

  The party was in full swing by the time I arrived. When it came to birthday parties, the Renegade Rebels pulled no punches.

  Alcohol flowed as freely as the cocaine, and dozens of club girls sashayed around in daisy dukes that were barely there, half of them topless before the sun had even set.

  When Harley told me he invited Rebel, I was tortured with thoughts of her. If there was a vice I could put my dick in to get through the night without fucking her, I would have.

  But it was no use, and I knew it. Now that she was in my thoughts, in my consciousness, hell - in my fucking nostrils, considering I couldn’t stop smelling her in every room of my house - my cock had been standing as hard and tall as a fucking mountain twenty-four hours a fucking day.

  It was pure torture, and I was tempted to skip the party all-together. But I would catch so much shit from the other guys, and I couldn’t get in the habit of avoiding things just because Rebel was there.

  I would have to learn to live with it. With her. With this constant stupid fucking erection.

  When I saw her standing across the parking lot, her black hair pinned up on her head, bright red lipstick smeared across her lips and her body covered in nothing but that damned bikini top and denim skirt again, I knew it was going to be one very fucking long night.

  “Sorry, chief,” Harley said behind me as I walked into the clubhouse, headed straight for the closest whiskey bottle.