Ridge: Great Wolves Motorcycle Romance

by Blue, Jayne

  “Oh, well, that’s great, you don’t have to.”

  “I’d feel better. You can learn the ropes, make sure you know what to look out for, just get your neighborhood watch off to a good start.”

  “Uh, okay. Why don’t you have a little dinner, and we’ll get out there? Sun isn’t really down yet.”

  “I don’t want to impose.”

  “A meal for the local police, it’d be a privilege.”

  I may have laid it on thick, but I did like Officer Parker and it was nice that he wanted to make sure we did our neighborhood watch right. I also needed to prove to myself that whatever had happened with Ridge was a fluke. I wasn’t into bikers. I was a nice girl!

  Officer Parker patiently waited as I finished up a few things at the bar. As the sun set, Officer Parker and I hit the streets.

  I had wrapped a cookie in cellophane just in case he wanted it later. It was a Busia thing I supposed. I stuffed it my purse with my cell phone.

  It was a warm night, and the sun was about to be history. It really was when the streets changed. Most of the hardworking, upstanding members of Stickney Forest were tucked safely in their homes. They were afraid to come out. Drug dealers, drunks, and thieves made the neighborhood their home at night.

  All of a sudden, I was glad I had Officer Parker. Doing this alone maybe was not the brightest I idea I ever had.

  I grew up here, and I knew these streets. I remember a time, a tiny bit of time, when I used to feel safe, even at night. And I had to remember a lot of that was Great Wolves. Whatever attraction I felt for the bad boy biker, I needed to get over it.

  “What you don’t want to do is put yourself at risk, Frankie. You’re here to be eyes and ears but not to engage. In fact, you really always should walk in tandem with someone.”

  Officer Parker was teaching me neighborhood watch 101 and I appreciated it. I could share it with our group.

  “Buddy system, eh?”

  “Yes, it is important.” Officer Parker was as straight an arrow as they came. It was cute.

  We walked and, sure enough, people did cross the sidewalk away from him. I figured that was as good a sign as any that someone was up to no good.

  “Your schedule is important. So is keeping a line open, so we know where you are patrolling.”

  “Got it.”

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw a familiar face. It was Baby Paul, dang! I had a bone to pick with that kid.

  “Hey, Baby Paul!”

  He saw me and ran, he had called in sick all week, and the last time he was in, tips were missing from Kevin’s jar. That little punk! Something in me made me chase after him. He turned the corner and I did the same.

  “Frankie! Frankie!” I heard Officer Parker running after me too. He’d catch up.

  I spied Baby Paul, as I rounded the corner. He was getting in a car I didn’t recognize. I yelled after him.

  “Come on Baby Paul! I just want to talk, you’re not fired.”

  And he really wasn’t. He was just a kid with problems. I hunched down to see who was driving. I didn’t see much but maybe a leather jacket. In this heat? It dawned on me who dressed like that in the summer, all the time.

  Shit, Baby Paul was on a path that I probably couldn’t get him off of.

  Then there was a popping noise. Firecrackers, or that’s what I thought they were. And then there was a spark, coming out of the car.

  I had been hunched down, but I felt something whiz passed me, a bullet. My brain processed the spark, the noise.

  They were shooting at me from the car! Oh my God!

  I dove down on the pavement and covered my head. I had nothing else to protect myself. The car tires squealed and sped away. Maybe they figured they got me. I stood up and looked behind me.

  “Frankie.” Officer Hayden Parker looked at me and in that second, I could imagine what he looked like as a little kid. He was scared, or maybe surprised. Then I saw it. A deep stain was spreading from his chest.

  “Officer Parker!” I ran to him and he sank to his knees. I tried to catch him.

  “This doesn’t hurt as much as I thought it would.”

  “You’re okay, you’re okay!” I looked around.

  “HELP!!!” I yelled.

  “You’re so pretty.” He was losing a lot of blood, fast. Had he got shot in the heart?

  Oh my God, oh my GOD!

  I turned to look and there he was, Ridge. Where the heck did, he come from?

  He was on his cell phone.

  “An officer has been shot.” He calmly recited the address.

  “His name is Hayden Parker!” I said, not so calmly.

  “Officer Hayden Parker. His chest, there is a lot of blood.”

  “Hayden, we’re here. It’s okay, an ambulance is coming,” I said. I had his head in my lap now; I didn’t want it on the pavement.

  “Hold this.” Ridge gave me the phone.

  “Who am I speaking to?” It was the 911 operator.

  “I’m Frankie Kaminski, and that was Ridge Callahan, we’re with Officer Parker, he’s been shot!” I felt hysteria crawling from my skin to my lungs, like a swarm of spiders.

  “Shit. Do you have anything plastic?” Ridge asked.

  “What? No, uh—cellophane, from the cookie.”

  I dumped out my purse and the phone and cookie spilled out. Ridge grabbed the cookie. What the hell was he doing?

  He unwrapped the cookie and carefully spread the wrapping wide.

  “He’s not in the mood for a fucking snack right now.” I nearly screamed it. My voice sounded foreign to me.

  I watched as Ridge opened Parker’s shirt. He’d worn a vest, but the bullet had penetrated it.

  Jesus.

  Ridge got the vest open and there it was: blood. Oozing, in a sickening amount, from Hayden’s chest.

  “Oh my God. Where’s the ambulance?”

  “They’ll be here, but maybe not fast enough. This is a sucking chest wound, it’s filling his lungs with blood, and he can’t get air.”

  “Hayden, it’s okay, I promise help’s on the way.” It was all I could think of to say.

  “Just let him lay there, on your lap, talk if you want. I have to stop this. I’m going to plug it up.”

  I watched as Ridge cleared away as much blood as he could with Hayden’s own shirt and then he placed the plastic wrap over the wound.

  Ridge held the plastic in place. He studied Hayden’s chest. Ridge’s mouth was in a tight grim line as he kept the pressure on the wound.

  “Is he—?”

  I couldn’t finish the sentence; I didn’t want to think Hayden was going to die from a bullet meant for me.

  “I don’t know. The blood loss is one thing, but he’s not going to be able to breath like this much longer.”

  Finally, I heard the wail of sirens. And then police, everywhere. Dozens. The EMT came to us first, and Ridge spoke.

  “I’ve sealed it, upper left lung, punched through his vest.”

  “Thanks, we’ll take over.”

  An EMT transferred his hand over Ridge’s and Ridge slowly slid his off. They were trying to keep it sealed.

  “Miss, let’s take a look at you.”

  There were more EMTs now, trying to help me and get us clear of Hayden. I watched them swarm all over him.

  “Please let him be okay,” I said and felt sick. I stood up and felt my own knees buckle. Ridge was next to me, I think. I felt dizzy.

  “Whoa, she’s in shock.” How did Ridge know?

  Time sped up again, and it was a blur. First, everyone had to be sure I was okay, and then it was police interviews.

  “It was a sedan, light blue, ah, I think an Impala?”

  “He had a leather jacket on. One guy was in front, one in back.”

  “The guy in back shot, or now, maybe…uh, for sure the guy in back shot.”

  “Baby Paul went in their car; they didn’t kidnap him. I’m sure.”

  “Ridge, yes, he’s my tenant. He didn�
��t shoot anyone. He was behind me.”

  I answered the same questions over and over again, first to the cops on the scene, and then to detectives at the station. And then to more detectives.

  I was exhausted, scared, and couldn’t make sense out of all that had happened.

  They told me Hayden was going to pull through. I even heard that Ridge’s first aid had saved Hayden.

  “We’ll take you home, Miss. That’s enough for today.”

  Finally, it had to be one a.m. before I heard those words. Home, yes, I wanted to go home.

  A patrol car drove me back to Kaminski’s, my home. I had a hard time remembering what day it was. Did I really have that conversation about Polish Fest cookies today? It felt like it was a year ago.

  They were all waiting for me: Dziadzia, Kevin, Sherry, Terry, and Lamont. They wrapped me in hugs. Lamont put a plate of food in front of me and again, I explained what had happened on the street, just feet from where we lived and worked.

  “We hear Officer Parker is going to pull through,” Kevin said, and I again felt some relief at that.

  “Can we visit him tomorrow?” My voice sounded young to me, unsure. Like I was asking permission for things instead of my normal hard charge. Maybe my normal hard charge had gotten Hayden Parker shot?

  “Sure, honey, we’ll all go,” Dziadzia said. He patted my hand. I realized he looked exhausted. The last few hours had to have been terrible for him. I was the last family he had. He was gruff, a fixture in my life, but I had to remember he was delicate now as he got older. I gave him a hug and summoned my own strength.

  “I’m good Dzia, no worries. Truly feeling much better now that I’m home,” I said and smiled at him. He seemed reassured.

  “I’m going to get your Grandpa home. He’s exhausted,” Sherry said, and I hugged her too.

  “Maybe you should just stay at the house?” Dziadzia offered.

  But I didn’t want that. I was here, and the effort of going to Dzia’s seemed like more than I could deal with right now.

  “I’m okay, I’ll be fine.”

  “I could sleep here, in one of the booths,” Lamont said.

  “No, it’s okay. You’ve got your own mama to check on.” I knew that was top of mind for Lamont. We’d all just had a stark reminder of how dangerous this place could be.

  I had been cavalier I guess, prancing around like a positive attitude and force of will could change things. Well, they couldn’t stop a bullet. They hadn’t.

  “I just talked to the patrolman outside. They’re going to keep a close eye on the bar tonight. There’s probably not a safer place in Stickney Forest right now,” Kevin said, and I did remember them telling me they were going to be out there tonight. That was comforting, though they let me know it was only for the night. Any extra manpower they had would be hunting for the shooter, not babysitting me.

  “Go home, you all need to rest too. I’m fine.”

  And finally, after a lot of clucking over me, the little family that made up Kaminski’s Bar dispersed.

  I waved to the patrolman who was outside my building, and I locked my door.

  I wanted things to be normal. My mind felt like it was broken, like it was on some strange loop it was a blur of blood and sirens.

  I couldn’t get rid of the image of Officer Hayden Parker’s face as it dawned on both of us what had happened.

  Strangely, only one thing stopped my little mental horror show. And that was Ridge Callahan. Ridge was a life raft in the stormy few moments that now seemed to have lasted for hours.

  He’d been there for me; he’d known what to do. He’d also kept me calm by letting me know what to do.

  I had heard it, between the EMTs, at the police station, over and over again.

  Ridge had saved Officer Parker’s life.

  Where was he now?

  I felt the danger of the night was far from over. I comforted myself by thinking of Ridge, and I wished that he were back here. I had started the day wanting him to move out of that apartment across the hall, and I ended it wishing he were there right now.

  I curled under my covers and felt a chill, even though it was a warm summer night.

  Eleven

  Ridge

  “Your alibi checks out.”

  The police didn’t want to believe me. I wouldn’t either. The Great Wolves were mud here. They didn’t have a reason to trust my story.

  The thing was, my alibi was about as airtight as it got.

  There wasn’t much they could do to place me in front Officer Hayden Parker instead of behind, helping to stop the bleeding.

  But they sure did try. I didn’t blame them. Everything I said was met with sidelong looks if not outright hostility.

  I wasn’t a Boy Scout. They ran my record. They knew I had a checkered fucking past.

  But iron clad was iron clad and that’s what I had going for me, no matter how easy it would have been to close the case with me, the new M.C. asshole in the neighborhood.

  I had been closing a deal, a pretty big deal. They didn’t know it, but it was a deal that would help clean up the very streets they patrolled.

  There were witnesses upon witnesses to just about each move I’d made today.

  I didn’t know they’d be needed, but they came in handy.

  There was even a notary involved, along with my twelve new GWMC members, when I signed to buy the building. We were present and accounted for and blocks away when the drive by that had put Hayden Parker on death’s door went down.

  That was good news for the club.

  Right now, I was the only one who really knew the distinction between the Great Wolves Chicago of two days ago, and the Great Wolves of Chicago of today. We hadn’t had time to make that happen before this violence put a flood light on anyone who wore leather.

  “Why were you in the vicinity?”

  “I’m renting a room above Kaminski’s. I was heading back there when I came upon Frankie, Miss Kaminski, and Officer Parker.”

  The cops checked and rechecked every aspect of my story, as best they could, but the real fact in my favor, the fact they couldn’t ignore, was that I had stayed and offered first aid to Parker. A few of my interrogators grudgingly shared gratitude for what I’d done.

  So, slowly, the interrogation ramped down. I was a witness, not a shooter. I was a Good Samaritan, and they realized, vet. Yeah, that was the thing I didn’t talk about to any of the club, or women, or even really Sawyer. And that was what came back when I saw a man down. I knew what do when a bullet hit its mark.

  “If I wanted him hurt, I wouldn’t have sealed his chest wound.”

  It was hard to argue with that logic.

  Eventually, I was let go. I needed to get back to Frankie.

  There had been terror in her eyes when she looked at Parker.

  I didn’t know if she was going to freak when she saw me again, or what, but I had to be sure she was safe tonight, even if it was sitting in the hallway, making sure she slept.

  I wanted to rage at the police, tell them they were barking up the wrong tree and wasting time with me. I wanted to be flip. The younger me, the one who couldn’t control his shit, was there, still, trying to get out.

  But I knew, to get out of here, to get back to Frankie as fast as possible, I needed every ounce of control I had acquired over the years. Every lesson I’d learned from Sawyer needed be front and center right now. I was now the Prez of an M.C. that wanted to go legit, in their town. Letting loose the maniac that wanted to punch his way of the station wasn’t in my or the club or Frankie’s best interest. What would Sawyer do? He’d be calm and smart.

  I had to be the M.C. this new chapter needed, not the hothead enforcer of my youth.

  There was no doubt in my mind that Parker wasn’t the target, Frankie was. Crank or one of his goons had tried to fucking kill her this time. She’d defied their attacks and so they upped the ante. I should have been savvier to that. It made me sick to think about how close she’d come
.

  And it had me committing to memory the names of the M.C. members who we’d tossed out. Crank, Gooch, Danny, and Turk. Those four were on my priority list to start.

  It was a straight up war, now. It was going to be my brand-new band of legit bikers versus these stains on the fucking earth.

  I maintained my composure, I bided my time, but what I needed was revenge, annihilation, and blood: the blood of those fuckers who did this.

  What would Sawyer do? He’d be smart. I would be too.

  But I wouldn’t be forgiving.

  I tried to explain to the cops; we were different. They listened, they verified, and eventually, they let me go. With a mixture of hate and gratitude. That gratitude though? That was at least a start. It was an example of what the GWMC could be in this part of town.

  After they let me go, I called Sawyer. It was the middle of the night, but I needed to touch base with him. He needed to hear all the shit that had gone down.

  I told Sawyer what had happened, and he insisted that I was right to stay cool, and that I needed to do that indefinitely. I wasn’t sure if I could make that promise.

  “I do not want you leading your new Wolves into a revenge blood bath. You’re trying to teach them discipline and honor.”

  “I am bringing them down.”

  I didn’t want there to be any doubt or surprise about that.

  “I’m behind you. We’re behind you. But wait. Give yourself the night. I want you to be smart. And make sure your crew is too. You need to call each one of them, immediately after this call. There can be no doubt what you expect as their Prez.”

  I agreed.

  It took a little effort, getting each one of them.

  But as I did, I could see how Sawyer was right. Each call had each GWMC member connecting with me personally.

  They weren’t just men who’d followed me, who I didn’t care about, other than to prove I was better than Crank. They were people I wanted to call brothers. If we were going to be brothers, I had to show that they were more important than revenge, or whatever personal vendettas I had. I needed them to know I was doing what I did for them.

  Each call was brief, but it was important. I’d told all The Great Wolves to lay low, to wait, to be careful because a cop was shot tonight, and someone was going to pay. I didn’t want it to be them.