The Rising Sons Motorcycle Club (45 page)

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 headlights 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.”

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