The Rising Sons Motorcycle Club

by Davida Lynn

Her mind screamed that something was wrong. She turned back toward the room. The safety of the lights called to her. She would close and lock the door. She would call Trask right away.

  As she stepped back into room 1041, a hand came from nowhere and covered her mouth. She tried to scream, but it was just a muffled moan. She was pulled into the darkness, away from her husband; away from safety.

  Faith thrust an elbow backward and connected. The hand released, and she tried to sprint forward and away from the attacker. A foot caught hers and she fell to the floor. Landing hard on her palms, Faith kicked backward, looking for purchase on the linoleum floor. Her flats were slipping. She got a foot planted and was about to stand when she was grabbed around the ankle.

  Her scream wasn’t dampened this time. “Anybody, help!”

  The pleas echoed in front of her. It was like the floor was completely abandoned. The hand pulled her back into the darkness. She clawed at the floor and kicked back with her free foot. It did nothing. Her attacker was strong. A hand gripped the back of her neck, and Faith cried out in pain. A rag was pushed against her nose and mouth, and then the darkness enveloped her.

  Goosebumps covered Raven’s arms. She felt the coolness of the air, but the anticipation of a dangerous meeting only added to the feeling. She rubbed her arms, trying to ignore the Kevlar vest restricting her movement. She knew there were eyes on her, but she felt absolute isolation.

  Highway 43 was empty in both directions. A slight breeze made the fire scene tape rattle back and forth. The bar that had been an integral part of Raven’s past had been turned into a Halloween horror house.

  She checked her phone again and again. The minutes ticked by with the speed of drying paint. It was one minute ‘til midnight, and she checked both ways. This time, she saw the faint yellow glow of headlights. Her heart flipped in her chest. Her shiver worsened, and Raven tried to shake it out of her so that it wouldn’t show when Allan arrived.

  “A car is approaching from the south. I can’t tell yet if it’s our boy or not.” Raven hated speaking with no one around her. She knew Trask would hear her, though he was nearly a quarter mile behind her. The bikers hidden off the highway a mile on either side of the bar could hear her, including Gunner. She would have killed just to hear an acknowledgement or a “good luck,” though.

  Raven watched as the lights grew brighter. Less than a minute later, the car slowed and pulled into the gravel lot and past Raven.

  “It’s him. The idiot brought his squad car. All eyes on me, por favor.”

  She walked around from the front of the building to the parking lot on the left side. He turned the car around, and the taillights cast a red glow on a dumpster overflowing with blackened wood and debris. Allan left the engine running as he got out of the car.

  “Goddamn, have I missed you.” Allan had a wide grin on his face. He acted like it was a reunion between to forlorn lovers. Raven wanted to spit at his feet.

  She held back a sneer. “Allan.”

  He heard the ice cold tone and dropped his attitude. The smile vanished in a heartbeat. He looked around, as if her backup would be in plain sight. “Did you do as I said like a good little girl?”

  The sneer couldn’t hide any longer. “Let’s just talk. What is it you want?”

  “You know exactly what I want. My price hasn’t changed, but my patience has. You think ignoring me is going to help you any? I figured this would have been a wakeup call.” He waved a hand over the bar like he was a game-show beauty.

  Raven almost burst into laughter. Was Allan trying to make it seem like he had been behind the attack on Los Bandoleros? If he was, she had to make a quick decision. If she called him out, she would have the power, and if she played along, he would. She decided to play it out.

  It was hard to keep herself from tearing into Allan, but she managed to keep it together. “You know how many of our guys died because of this?”

  Raven watched him as he spoke, wondering just how good of an actor he was. “You should have known something like this would happen if you ignored me, Rav. You think I can be used? Not without consequences.”

  “I’m sorry. Allan. I just needed more time to get the money together. You have to believe me.” She was dying inside, but the arrogance of the cop was just too much to take. She burst out laughing.

  Allan’s smug smile fell away. “What’s so fucking funny?”

  “Seriously. Please tell me you aren’t going to claim responsibility for this.” Raven looked over her shoulder. “You think our world is so small that you’re the only thing going against us? This is bigger than anything you could even understand.”

  Allan stared at her. She could tell it was his only ace in the hole, and it filled her body with adrenaline as she spoke.

  Raven felt confidence flowing through her body. “This was the work of a renegade group from Las Vegas, led by a man that had a knife buried in his back a few months ago. You really think we’re just a group of idiot rednecks with death wishes, don’t you? Hate to break it to you, Allan, but we’re not. We can put two and two together. You can hand us all the numbers you want—we can still add.”

  He pulled the gun out so fast she had no time to react.

  She stared at the wrong end of the barrel, pointed with a steady hand. It was half an inch from her face, right between the eyes.

  Her heart stopped long enough for her to think it was all over. Raven stared past the gun at Allan. His eyes were hard. She knew he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

  “Are you done?”

  Raven nodded.

  “No, that wasn’t my bargaining chip. This Glock 40 is my bargaining chip. Is the safe empty already?”

  She nodded again. She expected to hear a shot ring out. She thought Trask would pull the trigger without hesitation. Part of her prepared to feel a splatter. It didn’t come.

  Allan’s voice raised, and Raven felt spit hit her face. “Where’s the money?”

  Raven couldn’t get her voice above a whisper. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

  Allan shook his head, but the gun stayed steady. “Jesus. You aren’t making this easy on yourself, are you? Get the fuck in the car. Make whatever call you have to. We’re coming back first thing in the morning, and that safe is going to be stocked with my fuckin’ money, or I’ll fill it with what’s left of your corpse.”

  Raven couldn’t move. Her knees were locked, and in spite of the cold, she was sweating.

  Allan reached out and grabbed her by the throat. Raven stepped backward as Allan clamped down hard. Her lungs burned as she tried to suck in a breath. Her heart was working overtime and getting no air.

  He shoved her, and she fell back and into the car. “I said, get in.”

  Raven looked to the riverbank, waiting to see a flash. There was nothing, and her heart sank. She reached for the passenger door, but stopped when Allan yelled.

  “In the back. Jesus Christ, you’re stupid.”

  Raven got into the backseat, where she was locked in and surrounded by Plexiglas. Allan got into the driver’s seat and peeled out. She turned and got one last look at her bar as they drove off.

  He turned back. “Make the call.”

  Raven didn’t know if she’d even be able to speak. She dug into her pocket for her phone, and just as she pulled it out, the car lurched to the left. It shuddered and filled with the sound of flapping rubber.

  “You’ve got to be fucking with me,” Allan groaned as he fought against the wheel. He slowed the car down and pulled it to one side. Raven pushed her face to the window. She was looking for headlights or another muzzle flash. There was nothing, but her hopes were rising.

  Allan’s swears continued as he got out of the police car. He had no idea that it was a bullet that had given them a flat. She almost laughed again. She looked out the front of the car and saw the headlights. Four of them riding side by side. She saw Allan bending down to inspect the tire with his back to the oncoming bikers.

  She w
aited as the lights grew brighter. Before she could hear it through the car, Allan stood up and spun around. He pulled his handgun out and fired it off. Raven knew there was nothing she could do, but she kicked at the windows, hoping to distract him at the very least. Allan knew better. Her screams didn’t make a dent.

  Raven saw one of the headlights disappear. Raven waited to see sparks as the bike went down, but it didn’t come. The biker must have stayed up. The lights scattered across the road as the bikers avoided the shots. Her heart was in overdrive. She hated feeling hopeless, but since she was trapped, it was the only thing she had.

  Allan emptied his magazine and had a new one slid into his pistol in a matter of seconds. Raven watched as the three remaining headlights grew. The growls of the Harleys came to a crescendo. The lead bike was heading straight for Allan, and at the last second, he dove onto the hood of his squad car. The first headlight roared past.

  She heard tires squealing, and the remaining two headlights came to a stop right in front of the car. The lights blinded her, and she could only hear the men outside the car. Someone grabbed Allan and pulled him from the hood. Raven put a hand over her eyes to try and block the headlights of the bikes.

  “Open the door!” she was at the driver’s side, yelling through the window.

  The door popped open and she pulled herself out in a hurry. As her eyes adjusted to the lights, she saw that Gunner was standing before her. He was glistening with sweat, and his chest was rising and swelling.

  “Hey there, babe.”

  Raven smiled and threw her arms around her man. “Tell me we have enough for blackmail. I just want to get the hell out of here.”

  “I’d say so.” Gunner nodded and called to the other bikers. “Bring him here.”

  “Get the fuck off me! I’m a Bakersfield police officer, and I’ll have you all thrown in jail.” Allan came into view. One of the new bikers had the cop’s arm behind his back. The biker had a firm hold on Allan, who was furious.

  Gunner and Raven stepped into the light, meeting Allan head on. Gunner had a calm, wide grin on his face. “I don't think you're going to be throwing anybody in jail. We’ve got you on tape threatening Raven, extorting, and I’m pretty sure to the right people, it will all sound pretty damning. What do you think, Officer Hargrave?”

  Allan opened his mouth, but Gunner cut him off. “I don’t really care what you think. Here’s what’s going to happen: you’re going to get a degree in fucking off. You’re going to leave the Rising Sons alone. If you do not, we’ll get this tape to the press and your superiors. If you thought we were only capable of violence, you are sorely mistaken. We own you, now. If you pursue this, you might just find out what a group of rednecks can do. Do I make myself clear?”

  Allan knew he was defeated. He was a dog backed into a corner, still struggling against the biker holding him tight. He looked at Gunner, waiting to be cut off again. He finally spoke. “I got it.”

  Gunner smiled. “I’m gonna need some more detail. Make it clear to me, Officer Hargrave.”

  Allan hated being pushed around. Raven always sensed that from him, and it was written all over his face. She put her arm around Gunner’s waist, making it extra clear that they were the ones in control. Besides, she wanted to throw her new relationship in Allan’s face.

  He spoke, reluctance and hatred coating every word. “I’ll drop it. I’ll drop everything that has to do with the bikers. I don’t want trouble.”

  “That’s a lie, but we’ll let it slide.” Raven knew Allan. He had made it very clear that he did want trouble. She pulled the microphone from beneath her shirt. “Just so we’re a hundred percent, I will make sure everyone in California knows that the Bakersfield PD is corrupt. You, your partner—hell, even though Jason is gone, I’m sure he left some evidence lying around of his unhealthy obsession with my brother’s girlfriend. We’re done here, Allan.”

  Gunner leaned in. “If I were you, I wouldn’t bother fixing that tire. This area ain’t safe.”

  The new biker released his grip on Allan’s arm. The cop let it drop, making a point not to show his pain. With five bikers standing around him, Allan moved slowly around Gunner’s hulking figure. All the Rising Sons stood strong as Allan slid behind the wheel of his cop car.

  He threw it in reverse, the flat tire flapping as he backed away. Hoser’s hand hovered right beside his handgun, daring Allan to trying something. Backing up another twenty feet, Allan gunned the engine and whipped the front of the car around. With the tail lights facing them, he took off north and away from Raven, Gunner, and the others.

  “Well, I’d say mission successful,” Gunner said, grabbing Raven’s hand and heading to his bike.

  She stood firm, yanking him back. “Is that what you’d call it?”

  “Uh, yeah. Problem solved. Come on, babe.”

  Raven’s mouth dropped open. “Are you serious? Me getting a gun pointed at my head wasn’t in the plan. I waited for Trask to take a shot, but it didn’t come. Then I got thrown into the back of his car. I got kidnapped.”

  “Did you really want Trask to shoot him? Did you want to have to deal with another dead cop? I highly doubt that would have gotten the heat off our ass. Allan never would have shot you. Without you, he had nothing.”

  Raven was pissed off, even though she knew Gunner was right. Trask had made a brilliant decision to shoot out a tire. He had waited long enough that Allan hadn’t heard the shot. Despite the stress, the plan had gone off without a hitch. She’d forgive Gunner, but not for a little while.

  She shook her head. “Let’s just get the hell out of here. I need a beer.”

  Gunner couldn't have agreed more.

  “Mr. Rivers, you’ll never guess who this is.” The voice was low and strained, like each word was too much effort. Trask took the call as he dismantled the rifle. His mind was barely on the sound.

  Trask didn’t recognize the weathered voice, but he was in no mood for games. “You’re right, I never will, so why don’t you just spill?”

  The strange voice got colder, as though upset that Trask wasn’t playing the game. “You know, I think your mother wouldn’t approve of your tone, Mister.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ, what the fuck do you want?” He was tired and wanted nothing more than to fall into bed beside Hope and doze off for more than a few hours at a time.

  “You really don’t recognize my voice? That is amazing. Let me cut through the bullshit. You almost killed me, and I’m just a tad upset about that.”

  Trask’s eyes flew open, and his heart jumped into high gear. He did recognize the voice, or at least now he could place it: Vegas.

  He opened his mouth, but Vegas kept going. “Now you know, don’t you? I thought that taking out your dear old dad would be enough, but it ain’t. I still got this desire inside of me, you know?” The way Vegas said desire frightened Trask. It wasn’t an emotion he felt often, but it chilled him to the bone.

  He tried to keep his voice hard. “What do you want? You put my pop in the hospital and tore the club to the ground. We’re starting from scratch.”

  Vegas laughed. “If you think starting from scratch means half a million in cash, I’d love to start from scratch.”

  Trask didn’t like how much Vegas knew. The Rising Sons had just gotten one greedy son of a bitch off their back, and they didn’t need any more. Captain’s contact in Sin City still hadn’t located Maldonado, so there was no one to make a move on. Trask sat in the truck just off the road. He didn’t like hearing Vegas, or anyone for that matter, toying with him.

  “What cash, Vegas?” It was a risk to try and play dumb, but Trask wanted to find out just how much Vegas knew.