The Rising Sons Motorcycle Club

by Davida Lynn

  The deep roar of a motorcycle grew in the distance, and Raven stood up right away. She snatched up the handgun she’d found in the manager’s office. A few other bikers stood and pulled their guns from holsters or the waistbands of their jeans. Two of them moved toward the front door.

  Raven’s heart raced as the motorcycle grew louder. The constant engine note turned to a low rumble as it pulled into the parking lot, then died. The silence only made her blood rush faster, and she flicked off the safety. No fool would be stupid enough to attack Los Bandoleros with ten bikers inside, but only an idiot would attack the president of the Rising Sons, too.

  Everyone kept their guns pointed at the floor and fingers were well away from the trigger, but everyone’s eyes were wide, and they looked to Raven. She stood sideways to the door, making herself a smaller target if someone did come in firing.

  Her pocket vibrated, and it startled her. She reached for it, but kept her eyes on the door. Trask had texted her. It’s me. No one shoot.

  “It’s Trask. Holster your weapons. The last thing we need is a second Rivers in the hospital.” She flicked the safety back on and laid the gun back on the table.

  The two bikers at the door turned away, but when the front door swung open, they checked over their shoulders. It was, indeed, Trask.

  Sam extended a hand. “Sorry bout Bear, man.”

  Trask shook it. “Yeah. Thanks, Sam.” He walked in and made a line straight for Raven. Without a word, he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her along with him toward the kitchen. Most of the bikers looked away, and no one acknowledged Raven’s cries.

  “What the fuck? Jesus, Trask, get your hands off me.”

  He pushed open the door to the kitchen and shoved Raven in front of him. Even before the door swung closed, he was yelling. “You want to explain this to me? The newest fuckin’ member giving orders? I mean, fuck. What the fuck makes you think you can order my boys around?”

  “They aren’t your boys anymore, Trask. You’ve got new boys up in Davis. You’re a guest here, now. Also, you’re fucking welcome for the call, asshole.” She shoved him hard, and Trask fell backward into a small table. He caught himself.

  “Funny thing about that; you getting a call saying Bear was in an accident. Who’d you get that from? Let me guess: the cop you’re fucking. Does Gunner know, or do you just schedule things for every other day?” Trask knew she’d try for another attack, and he was ready this time. She came at him, and he threw an arm around her neck. He squeezed, reminding her of the fight with Gunner.

  “Fuck off. I haven’t talked to the cop in over a week. I stopped sleeping with him, and then he threatened the club.” She choked out the last words as Trask’s grip tightened.

  “What?” He stopped squeezing her.

  Raven pushed away from him, rubbing her neck. “Since I used him to get Bear out of jail and then to get the address of that cop, he’s blackmailing us for a quarter million bucks, now.”

  “Who knows about this?”

  “Me, Tanner, and you.”

  “Why doesn’t the club know? Why doesn’t Bear know?”

  Raven screamed at him, no longer caring if anyone outside the kitchen could hear. “Because we thought it was a bluff! He’s just one cop, and he’s not going to fuck with us!”

  Trask spoke low, taking the opposite route of Raven. “And then, a week after you stop talking to him, Bear gets run down on his Harley. How motherfucking convenient. I ride all the way down here, and you know what I find?”

  “What?”

  “I find you in charge. Some of those men have done time, Raven. They’ve done things in the name of this club that would make your stomach turn, and I find you barking orders?” Trask was waving his hands around, his voice picking up intensity. “Who the fuck put you in charge?”

  “You know who did? Everyone. When they did nothing, someone had to step up. Just because I got the text, that’s not why I’m in charge. After I got all the civilians out, everyone looked at me. They wanted to know why I threw everyone out on their asses, so I told them. Then I stood there, waiting for Gunner to step up. Instead, he stood leaning against the wall, waiting for me. Everyone did. I didn’t bully someone out of the top spot. I stepped into it because everyone else was sitting on their ass.

  “I got your mom to her husband’s bedside, with protection. I sent brothers out for food and supplies. I got guys heading to get weapons, because whoever did this isn’t done. This was a message. This was meant to destabilize us, and guess what?”

  Trask nodded. “It worked.”

  “It sure as shit did work. If you want to take over, be my guest. I’ll catch you up, and then they are all yours. I’ll follow your lead. I’m not here to step on toes. I’m here to kick ass, so just point me to the asses, Trask.”

  He calmed down knowing that Raven wasn’t going to fight him for control. “All right, all right. Before we head back out there, you really think it was your cop friend?”

  “He’s not my friend…anymore.”

  Trask knew bringing up the cop was cutting deep into Raven and it was dirty pool, but he didn’t really care. This wasn’t the kind of game where you came out ahead by playing nice. “Whatever you call it.”

  “I really didn’t think he could have done this, but we’ve eliminated any smaller clubs in the area. The Rising Sons don’t have any rivals. No one would come after us like that. Everyone still in the bar has been combing through their contacts all over the state, and nothing’s come up.”

  “Well, fuck. I guess we’re going up against the PD, then.” Trask gave a sarcastic smile before turning for the kitchen door.

  When Trask and Raven came out from the kitchen, everyone pretended they hadn’t heard every word the two had spoken. Most of the bikers looked away, but a few of the old-timers smiled at the pair. It was cute to hear the kiddies arguing.

  Trask didn’t waste any time. “Who all went for guns?”

  Sam spoke up. “Gunner, Mad Dawg, some others.”

  Trask nodded as he listened. He almost wished that Raven had been waiting for him at the hospital so he could get briefed on the way over. His mind was filled with too many facts, too many theories, and not enough sleep. Trask was already forgetting which bikers were heading where. He would only admit it inside his own head, but Raven had done the right thing. If they were going to be holed up at the bar, they’d need food. Trask looked around, trying to find someone in particular.

  “Where’s Hoser?”

  Raven’s voice made Trask turn around, “He couldn’t make it in tonight. He should be heading over soon. Why?”

  “Get his ol’ lady out here, too. She’s the best damn cook we ever had.”

  By Saturday, Bear’s condition hadn’t changed. Trask had to wrestle his mother home so she could get a nice of decent sleep. For three days she stayed in the hospital room, sleeping in the semi-reclining chair with a throw over her. She got to know the nursing staff well, and they brought her small things she needed like a toothbrush.

  When Trask brought his mother home, he made sure her fridge was filled with easy things to heat and eat. He took out the trash and made sure there was nothing she could need. Not five minutes after getting her into bed, she was out cold.

  There were always two bikers sitting outside Bear’s door. When no attack came, they became a symbol that a brother is never alone. Trading out every few hours, all of the Rising Sons took their turns standing guard outside Bear’s room.

  Hope arrived after her Thursday class, and she looked over Bear’s case. She couldn’t lend any details that Dr. Childers hadn’t already. She spent many hours by Bear’s side, monitoring his condition. She knew the odds of him coming out of his coma were slim, but Faith was beyond relieved to have Hope by Bear’s side when she couldn’t be there herself.

  Trask was running back and forth between the hospital, the bar, and his mother’s house every day. Hope tried to get him to slow down, but he was a man possessed. She knew he’d ge
t exhausted trying to do it all, but he just wouldn’t listen. He felt that the weight of the club and his family was on his shoulders. It blinded him from what was going on around him.

  He ran every order that he gave the Rising Sons through Raven first. If she thought something wasn’t a good idea, it would be modified, or she would talk to Trask and out of the blue, he would change his mind. It was her decision to keep the bar closed over the weekend, and it was a decision that ended up saving countless innocent lives.

  Gunner sat in the manager’s office at the Cherry Stem. The Rising Sons had purchased the strip club a few weeks earlier as payment for saving Jenny’s life. She had convinced them that it would be a good investment, and after just a few weeks, Gunner had to agree. The money came flowing in, and the employees were happier than ever knowing they had biker escorts if they didn’t feel safe. The scum found out quickly that they had to go elsewhere if they wanted to cause trouble.

  Profits in the club soared as higher-income clients began to discover the small club. Illegal activities were outlawed at the strip club, except for Rising Sons spending stolen money. It was laundered through the legitimate business. They would spend it every time Jenny danced, and she would collect that money and hand it right over to Gunner after taking her ten percent fee, of course.

  Raven came in, knowing her relationship with him was more than tense. After their argument the night of Bear’s accident, the couple had avoided each other whenever possible.

  They hadn’t texted each other, and they made sure to never be on the same safety detail at Bear’s hospital room. Raven had gone over Gunner’s head, and he wasn’t happy that she was going over Trask’s. He told her that she didn’t know her place, but he also didn’t step up and assert any authority when the time was his.

  She had been cold to Gunner since taking control of the group. The brothers didn’t seem to notice. They spent their time investigating Bear’s crash and preparing for the war they knew would come. The Rising Sons weren’t any closer to finding out who had attacked them, which only put the club on edge even more. Someone out there had taken out their leader and left no trace.

  It was weighing on Raven, but as she walked down the hallway to the backstage area of the Cherry Stem, she had only one thing on her mind: making up with Gunner. He was a powerful ally, and she didn’t want to be on his bad side.

  Her heart raced, because she knew there was only one way to break through the ice between them, and words wouldn’t do the trick. The biker mind was a simple one. If a woman was going to tell them what to do, they had to get something out of the deal, and Raven knew she hadn’t given her man anything but trouble since Bear’s accident. As she headed down the hallway, she pulled the trench coat tight around her body. She was nervous, but it was all in the name of diplomacy.

  The office door was open, and when she stepped inside, Gunner didn’t look up from the computer screen for a few seconds. When he did, his face went through a few different emotions. He was surprised at first, then Raven could see that he was still upset at her. She knew an easy way to change the look on his face. She slid the trench coat from her shoulders and dropped it to the floor.

  She loved watching Gunner’s eyes grow bigger. He took in her body without saying a word. Not looking behind her, Raven slid a heeled foot backward and shut the door with her shiny black heel. With a devilish look on her face, she stepped into the room. She’d wondered and feared that spending time at a strip club would desensitize Gunner to the curves of a beautiful woman. She was surprised to find that nothing could be further from the truth.

  Raven had black stockings with a seam up the backs of the legs. They stopped halfway up her thigh, with a garter belt connecting them above her waist. A black push-up bra that had lacework beneath it showed off her perky breasts. The bra made them seem bigger than they were, but she didn’t expect that Gunner would mind. She’d discovered right away that he was a breast man, and she had the bruises to prove it.

  The look was a change from her usual attire when they had sex. The standard look was the girlie biker ensemble of ripped jeans and a t-shirt. Raven usually had her blonde hair in a braid, and Gunner loved to grab onto it and command her with it. She could tell that he approved.

  He finally found a few words. “Goddamn.” A smile crept onto his face.

  “I figured this would be the best way to apologize. I know things have been tense lately, and you and I haven’t been able to spend any real time together. So, I thought I’d surprise you at work.”

  Gunner laughed, his eyes focused on Raven’s chest. “I am surprised, that’s for sure.”

  “Come over here.” She curled her finger, luring him away from the desk. Gunner followed without another word.

  When he was standing in front of her, she grabbed him by the shoulders as his own hands reached out. She pushed him down into a convenient folding chair. Gunner allowed Raven to control him, knowing that he would be well-rewarded for his compliance.

  The thumping bass of the show in the front of the club was plenty loud in the manager’s office, and Raven began to sway back and forth. She closed Gunner’s legs and put one of her own on either side of him, running her fingers through Gunner’s messy hair. Moving with the beat of the up-tempo EDM music, she bent forward and pushed his face between her breasts, giggling when she felt his tongue on her skin. She pulled him back hard by his hair, shimmying back away from him. Turning around, she bent forward, putting her hands on his desk. She smiled and shook her ass, knowing he would stay in the chair and suffer through his desires for a little longer.

  Raven reached behind her and unhooked her bra. She slid it down her arms and dropped it on Gunner’s desk. When she turned around, her arms covered them. She bent forward again, keeping just out of reach. Gunner let out a mean, low growl that set her heart ablaze.

  She turned again, bending forward so that her ass was in his lap. She bent all the way to the floor, uncovering her breasts as she did. Leaning down, she felt Gunner’s manhood, grown and throbbing beneath his jeans. She let out a moan of her own.

  She turned around, showing off her chest to him for the first time. He bit his bottom lip and reached for her. She slapped his hands away with a playful smile. “No, no. You’ll wait until I say so.”

  Then she lifted one of her legs and rested it on her strong biker’s shoulder. She leaned her hips inward, bringing the heat between her legs close to his face. He got an eyeful of the black lace covering her body, including the thin panties she wore. Raven saw that his hands were clutching the edge of the chair, using all his will to keep from touching her.

  She slid her leg off of him, but not before Gunner dragged his tongue down her stockings. She moaned as she felt the heat of him, then the cool wetness left behind on her leg. She bent forward again, this time looping her fingers in her panties. She slid them down, giving him the view he craved from behind.

  When her panties were all the way at the floor, she said, “Why don’t you get that big cock out for me so I have somewhere comfortable to sit?”

  Gunner yanked at his belt and pulled his jeans down, his cock erect and ready for her. “I need that pussy so bad, baby. I’m dying for you.” His low voice made her shudder with anticipation.

  “Yeah? You want me?”

  “I’m aching for that sweetness, baby. Get the fuck over here and let me split you.” Gunner grabbed her hips and pulled her to him as she squealed with delight.

  She lowered herself down onto him. Her mouth dropped open when she felt his manhood sheath itself within her. A deep, long cry escaped Raven’s lips as she sank lower and lower onto Gunner.

  His hands dug into her hips as he guided her down. His head fell back as he felt her tightness envelop him. When her ass was resting on Gunner’s lap, she began to rock forward and back, leaning forward on his strong legs as she did.