The Rising Sons Motorcycle Club (14 page)

She tried to look big picture. She knew in a year’s time they may double or triple the numbers, but Trask’s absence left them vulnerable. As the Sergeant-At-Arms, his job was to keep them safe. Being ex-military, he had the necessary skills to hold the post. From the stories Tanner had told her, Trask was one of the best fighters in the group. Everyone trusted him, and everyone was willing to stand by him in a battle.

Boss made his feelings clear. “Well, ain’t this some shit? You think we don’t have enough trouble as is? I know the deal is already done, but I just want to let everybody know that I’m against this. There’s strength in numbers.”

“Boss is right,” Sam, one of the quieter members, said. “What if Trask gets up there and there’s no action? Are we funding him, and for how long? Hope we’ve at least got some jobs lined up.”

“I agree with you, Boss, and that’s why we’re doing this. Don’t be shortsighted. Think big picture. Think five years from now. Hell, think a month from now. Say we got heat on us from the Mexicans, and we need reinforcements. If Trask has him five or six guys, they’d only be a few hours away. No club in this area has more than twenty members, us included, for the most part.” Bear was working his magic. Raven agreed with his argument, and she could see Boss’s mind already changing.

“If we had to ride against a club and the numbers were even, we might come out ahead. If we rode against them and we had five or six more guys, there’s no way we’d lose. The same thing goes for Davis. Yeah, it’s can be tough starting out. If there’s any opposition, me, you, and everybody in this room is to take us a little road trip. We can carve out territory up north with no problem. Boss, I get your issue, I really do. I’m just looking ten years down the road, when we might be able to claim all of California. When we might be able to take a piece of everything moving from Mexico to Canada. Now that is a shitload of money, enough for us all to retire in ways we never could have imagined.”

Trask sat and listened to his father speak. He looked around at all the faces. Most were watching Bear, but every now and then they would all turn to Trask. He saw looks that he didn’t like. He stood up and did something he would usually never dream of.

“Hate to interrupt you, Pop. You’re right. You’re making good points, but let me make a few of my own. First of all, if you don’t know why I’m moving to Davis, it’s for a girl, but that’s only one reason. I’ll admit that; doesn’t bother me none to say that. Here’s the other reason, and I think you can all understand this one: I need to make something. I need to make something for myself; something that’s mine. I’m not saying I want to be president, but I want to know the feeling that my pop must’ve had at the very first meeting of the Rising Sons.”

Bear watched his son speak and felt a lump growing in his throat. The old man knew he could never make up for all the years he’d been gone, but hearing Trask talk about a legacy let Bear know that his son truly loved and respected him.

This time, it was Trigger who spoke. “So, there’s a vacancy on the executive Board? I assume we’ll want to fill this position ASAP?”

“The decision has already been made about filling the Sergeant-At-Arms position. I’m proud to announce that Gunner, himself, will be taking over, effective immediately.”

Surprised, Gunner raised at hand as the bikers around him cheered.
 

After the Rising Sons quieted down, Bear started up again. “And now, for the main event. The third test is always saved for monthly meetings. I mean, it’s a goddamn show!”

Raven stared, confusion on her face. Bear laughed when he saw it, “Surprise, darlin’. You’re already on to the final test.”

“What about—”

Bear cut her off, “Courage? You passed that one when you saved the stripper, or did you not thing screaming at me on the phone was courageous enough?” He turned back to the tables of bikers. “Fuckin’ let me have it, too. You feel good?”

She realized that there was a smile on her face that she couldn’t make disappear. “I mean, I’m overwhelmed, but yeah. I do feel good.”

Bear nodded. By the time Raven noticed the menacing smile, it was too late. “I’m glad you feel good, darlin’, because you’re about to feel a shitload worse.”

“The last test…” Bear dragged the words out as if they were passed down from God himself. He had already been going on and on for at least ten minutes about Raven passing the second test. She just wanted to know what it was so she could dive in and get it taken care of.

“…is a test where many a man fail. You see, in this club, darlin’, loyalty and courage are nothing without… strength.”

The bar erupted in cheers. It was always the favorite test of the Rising Sons, and it always lined up with the monthly meeting. It was a test, but it was also a show. They loved bringing in new prospects for the third test, alone.

Everyone in the club had a chance to participate, and no one ever wanted to miss their shot. Bear usually saved important votes and information for third test meetings for that very reason. It always had the highest attendance.

Raven, meanwhile, had no idea what the test of strength consisted of. She didn’t like the fact that the entire club was cheering louder than she’d ever heard before. She looked around and saw faces that were completely unfamiliar to her. The usual twelve-to-fourteen Rising Sons was nearing twenty-five members that night. It made Raven uneasy.

“You know the drill, boys. Names in the hat. No cheating. If we catch anyone adding a name in twice, we’ll all beat your ass. And no double-naming someone else just so we beat
their
ass. Boss, I’m looking at you.”

Raven’s heart pounded in her chest. A name would be drawn out of the hat, then what? Arm wrestling? A boot camp-style race? She kept in amazing shape and could handle herself in a fight, but some of the bikers were nearing two hundred and fifty pounds. She closed her eyes and crossed her fingers for the race.

An old-style, open-faced motorcycle helmet was pulled off of the wall as the bikers all wrote their names down. They muttered and tossed the pieces of paper inside. It made its way around, and Raven watched with great interest.

When the helmet reached Bear again, slips of folded paper were popping out the top. Her heart thumped, and she didn’t even know why. She just wanted to know what the actual test was. At least then she could start to plan her strategy, if there was even any point.

Bear smiled and turned to the woman one test away from becoming a Rising Son. “You ready?”

“I’m not really sure what I should be getting ready for,” she said, working hard to stifle her nerves.

Bear laughed. “That’s the point, darlin’.” He stuck his hand in, and every one of the bikers leaned forward. They looked bloodthirsty and might as well have been licking their lips. They wanted their name called. They wanted their chance. Raven just wanted some answers.

Bear brought his hand out with one slip between his thumb and index finger. Every biker craned to see whose name was written on it.

“And the name is...”

“Gunner!” Bear called it out like he was a carnival barker. The bar was a mix of booing, cheering, and sadness as all the other bikers would have to wait for the next prospect for their chance to kick some ass.

Raven’s heart sank. Of all the bikers in the bar, it was Gunner. Their relationship was anything but clear, and he was one of the biggest guys in the club. He was muscular, tall, and a brick wall in comparison to her. Raven had speed and agility over him, but if it was something like arm wrestling, she was sunk. She didn’t want to fight with Gunner, even though it was what they did most of the time.
 
She wanted to strip his clothes off and ride him like a Harley.

Raven’s body was still sore from the fight with the cop when they’d rescued Jenny. The hard hit she took had swelled and changed colors, but no one at the club asked her about it. Raven assumed they all knew about the mission that she and Tanner had been on. He and Jenny had spent the night together, but she hadn't heard anything else about Tanner’s girl since parting ways with her brother at the stoplight.

“Better luck next time, Boss,” Bear said to the large man, innocently raising his hands. “The third test will begin in five minutes.”

“All right, cut me some fuckin’ slack and tell me what the test is.” Everyone shut up and turned to Raven. “I have no idea what begins in five minutes. All I know is that I’m going up against one of the strongest bikers in the club. I don't know
what
I’m doing, though. For fuck’s sake.”

Bear sat Raven down, trying to calm her. “Okay, easy, darlin’. Fair point. You got a right to know. It’s a wrestling match. First one to pin the other wins. That’s the only rule. You fail? You try again next month. You fail six times? There’s no place for you here. Pretty simple, I think. Five minutes.”

Raven went behind the bar and poured herself some water. She was planning on hydrating before another exhausting fight, but she saw Gunner taping up his hands. There was fury in his eyes as Clyde wrapped the tape around his knuckles. He was preparing for a serious fight. Raven took a few sips of water, but didn't want to fill her stomach if Gunner was going to take it that seriously.

In fact,
she thought,
if he’s going to take it that seriously, so will I.
After a little bit of preparation, she waited for Bear to signal that the five minutes were up. When he did, she came out from behind the bar. The dance floor was cleared and Gunner was there, waiting for her. Both his hands were taped over like a kickboxer and he had taken his shirt off. She wondered if he had done it to distract her. She got to see his chest and his tattoos on full display. The standard Rising Sons insignia was at his large bicep. Skulls, pin-ups, and wolves decorated the rest of his broad chest and his thick arms. She was taken with the detail in the ink and had to stamp out a feminine thought or two. She was about to fight this man, not fuck him.

She knew she was going to take a beating, but if her secret weapon would work, she’d be able to win. With her hands balled into fists as soon as she came from behind the bar, she prepared herself for anything.

“Fist to pin, first to win.” Bear said, signaling the start of the fight.

Raven looked over Gunner for some weakness. His muscles seemed to already be gleaming with sweat. Topless, he looked even more fit. His thick arms rippled, his neck bulged, and his six-pack of abs flexed as he prepared to lay a beating on Raven. Then she caught it. With his back to the club, he gave her a quick wink and a smile.
 

Keeping up the act, Raven swallowed hard. There wasn’t much to swallow, and she prayed that none of the bikers heard her gulp. They were cheering loudly and laying down money, so she figured they were distracted enough. She could hear them calling out bets, and almost none of them were on her.

She stepped into the empty square, trying to keep her heart rate down. It was already pounding too hard. Gunner came at her the second she was inside the square. He pulled back to unleash a heavy swing, but Raven had plenty of time to duck to the side and let the arm fly over her. The bikers let out a raucous of howls and cheers.

Backing up, she kept some distance between herself and Gunner. His punch hadn’t connected, but she could only imagine the power behind it. She had noticed that he was a fraction slower, though. He charged her again, and she thought it would be another punch. She ducked like the first time, but he lowered his body and tackled her. Gunner’s heavy body crashed down on top of her and knocked the wind from her lungs. He brought a fist down, and she barely had time to bring her arms up to block it. She felt right away that Gunner wasn’t trying.
 
His punches slid to the side, not one of them connecting.

Raven knew she had to keep up the fight for the sake of the bikers. Gunner didn’t want to hurt her, she could see that, but it had to look real.
 
She cried out after one of the soft punches hit her arm. She had a plan to pin him, but until she could get above him, her secret weapon was useless, anyway.

With his legs on either side of her, Raven fought to bring her knee up. When he shifted, she had the opportunity. She drove it into his groin, then forced his body from hers. She held back, but not that much.
 
She saw Gunner’s pain was real. Cheers rang out, probably more for the fight lasting longer than Raven herself. She didn’t care. She needed Gunner on his back.