Ryder

by Hope Stone

  She’d done a good job of keeping her distance, on paper, anyway. She was the manager of a fitness studio across the street from Blue Dog. Tammy was a pilates instructor and they’d been married since it was legalized in California in 2008.

  “I don’t know, man. I’m gonna be old enough to be a grandma by the time we finally get this kid.” She rubbed her face with her hands. “Tammy would be such a great mom. It’s bullshit that it’s taking so long.”

  “What’s taking so long?” Trainer asked.

  Trainer, Pin, and Moves all came in at the same time and pulled up chairs in between Yoda and me. We left the head of the table open for Padre, and I looked at my watch. We needed to wait six minutes, but we had enough for the meeting.

  “For you to get me that twenty bucks you owe me from the Superbowl, that’s what!” Swole grinned and punched Trainer.

  Trainer looked Middle Eastern even though his last name was Lopez. He had thick curly black hair and a full beard. He got his nickname because when he was pledging he stole a bunch of ammo from another MC as part of his initiation.

  I was really wondering where Padre was. If he wasn’t with Trainer, Pin, and Moves, then he wasn’t stuck in traffic. It wasn’t like him to miss meetings. But if he didn’t show in two minutes, I was going to have to start without him.

  “Where’s Padre?” Moves asked. He was our Enforcer and was small, fast, and deadly. The guy knew weapons the way the rest of us know the alphabet. He was the one who’d suggested we have Trainer steal the ammo because he knew exactly what we needed. Moves was also the one responsible for keeping inventory in the warehouse.

  “The warehouse” was actually a Public Storage locker just up the street. We paid off the owner to look the other way, and it’s where we kept the guns, ammo, and various drugs we sold and used as leverage.

  I stood up. “I don’t know, but it’s time to start without him.” I walked to the front of the room and pulled out Padre’s chair. Just then, the door opened and the four patches walked in. Known as “members” in some other clubs, these guys didn’t have management roles, but were active members of the club.

  The recruits were likely outside acting as bouncers to let us know if there were any problems during the meeting. You didn’t get to attend meetings until you were a patch.

  “Okay, everyone. Almost everyone is here, except Padre. Rules are rules, so let’s get started. Since we don’t have a Secretary at the moment, let’s get right to the numbers. Pin, how much do we have left from last year’s Fun Run money?”

  As Pin got out the books and put on his accountant glasses, my mind started to wander. This is what it would be like to be President. Looking around the table at the faces of my brothers and sister, I had to admit it felt good. Maybe someday I really would be the President of Outlaw Souls. I hated to think what it would take to make that happen, though. I’d looked up to Padre as a father figure since I moved to La Playa. The idea of him being gone…it was too much.

  Where the hell are you, Padre?

  Four

  Paige

  My sister was looking out the window of her bedroom on the second floor of our house, watching me move out. My mother was locked in her office, blasting Ellen about as loud as the television would go, angrily pretending nothing was happening. My dad was in the kitchen drinking a sparkling water and barking commands at me.

  “Don’t bump the wall with that box, Paige. I’m not paying for Trevor to come and touch up paint that you scraped.”

  “You need to put the big things in first, Paige, and then fit the smaller things around it.”

  He seemed to have an awful lot of opinions for a guy who was willing to stand there and watch his daughter do everything alone.

  My arms and legs were exhausted. I’d rented a U-Haul and was putting everything I owned in it all by myself. No one in this family was willing to lift a finger to help me because they didn’t approve of me moving to La Playa. “You want to be on your own?” they said. “Do it on your own, then.”

  I was almost twenty-five years old and the only time I’d lived away from this house was when I was in college. I stayed in the dorms for the first two years and then in a sorority house the last two years. And even then, I came back home during breaks. It was well past time for me to move out.

  I’d been collecting things for my eventual apartment since I was eighteen and storing it in the garage.

  “Be careful of the Audi, Paige. I don’t want you scratching it.”

  “I won’t, Dad.”

  One by one I grabbed lamps and boxes and tables and chairs and put them in the U-Haul. I’d hired movers to load the things I couldn’t carry, like my bed and dresser and stuff like that. I was going to make one trip over with all of this stuff and then meet the movers back here this afternoon for the second load.

  La Playa was only about 25 miles from Verde Hills, but it was a world away. Since my parents refused to help financially, I wasn’t able to afford an apartment in the nice area of town. I was staying at an apartment complex right on the border of North La Playa. I’d signed a month-to-month lease so that when I got a better job and saved up for first and last month’s rent, I could move closer to the beach.

  “You said you wanted an urban experience, Paige. Now you’ll get one,” my dad said when I told him where I’d be living. My mother just sat there, tight-lipped and judgmental.

  When I finally put the last load of stuff I could carry myself into the truck, I pulled the back of the U-Haul closed, locked it, and took a deep breath. This was it. After years of wanting to move to a community where I could really make a difference to people who understood what a real crisis was, I was finally doing it. These people lived a different life than the one I’d known, and I knew from my work at the free clinic that they were often on a razor’s edge between life and death.

  As I pulled up the directions to my new apartment in La Playa, my heart tightened. The neighborhood was definitely rougher than I was used to. It was about the same as where USC was located, except that I was on campus for most of my time there.

  “It’s not that bad,” I said to myself. My parents were overreacting, as usual. Millions of people live in neighborhoods just like this all across Los Angeles. It was no Verde Hills, but it was certainly safe enough to live in.

  I didn’t even get to the end of the block when my phone dinged with a text. It was my mother.

  Don’t think you’re going to come crawling back when you’re scared. You made your bed. Now lie in it.

  Nice. Thanks, Mom. “No worries,” I said to myself as I pulled the huge truck on the freeway. “I wouldn’t move back home if it were the last place on earth.”

  I told myself that it was normal that I couldn’t sleep. My body was sore from all of the moving and everything looked and sounded different. Banner Manor, near the traffic circle, had looked almost upscale during the day. The front steps were flanked with two huge red doors that swung open, revealing a long carpeted hallway. At the end of the hallway was a staircase that led to the second floor. My apartment was in between two others, to the left as you came up the stairs.

  The movers had been talking in Spanish, and although I took it in high school, I really didn’t understand what they were saying because they were talking so fast. I did understand the word “dead” and the names of the Crips and Bloods, which were rival gangs in downtown LA. But this wasn’t downtown LA and I didn’t think they had gangs like that in La Playa.

  But as I lay there in bed, eyes open, listening to the shouts coming from the two apartments on either side of me, the sirens going up and down the street and the police helicopter overhead, my heart was pounding in fear. What had I done? I’d burned the bridges at home with my parents and had gotten myself into a sketchy apartment in a bad neighborhood in La Playa.

  Tears stung my eyes as I fought off a suffocating wave of homesickness. I wanted to be in my room next to Bailey, snuggled up next to Betty White, our Golden Retriever.


  “I wonder what the pet policy is here?” I said aloud to calm myself. “Maybe I’ll get a little dog or something.”

  I went into the kitchen and turned on the tap to pour myself a glass of water in the one cup I’d unpacked. Tomorrow would be a better day. I’d spend the day getting settled, and then on Monday I’d start my new job as a waitress at Tiny’s.

  Tiny’s was a classic diner on a busy corner across from a biker bar, a fitness studio, and an apartment complex. I’d put in a bunch of resumes at various social justice nonprofit organizations and the waitressing job was just so I could have money to hold me over until I got a better job.

  “You shouldn’t move to La Playa until you have a secure job, Paige,” my dad had said. But my parents’ disapproval of my life choices was so oppressive that I figured I’d rather be on my own any way I could. Besides, how would it look on a resume and interview to say that I was living at home with my parents in a three-million-dollar house in Verde Hills but I want a job helping the impoverished? I needed some street credibility.

  Climbing back into my bed, I dug around in my bag for some earplugs. I was going to make this work. I knew I would.

  “Well, you’re as ready as you’ll ever be.”

  I was in my tiny bathroom staring at my reflection in a cloudy mirror. The room wasn’t steamy—the mirror was just so old that you could barely see anything. I imagined it was what a prison mirror looked like.

  The reflection looking back at me already looked different than the girl I’d been in Verde Hills. I’d only been here two days, and to me, I looked more independent. My long blonde hair was tied back in a braid. I didn’t want to waste much makeup for work because I didn’t know when I’d be able to afford to buy more. So, I just lightly dusted my eyelids with some shadow and added some mascara so that my blue eyes didn’t fade into my face. One thing about being a natural blonde is that if you don’t have a tan, you can look washed out.

  I didn’t imagine I’d have much time for tanning. I was lucky to get the waitressing job at Tiny’s, considering I have zero experience as a waitress. They must have been desperate to have hired me.

  “You do have a college degree and work experience, Paige,” I said to the woman in the mirror. “Don’t let your parents’ disapproval become your thoughts.”

  Grinning at my inner Tony Robbins, I flipped off the bathroom light, grabbed my purse, and headed out of my apartment for my first shift at Tiny’s.

  Five

  Ryder

  “Lily. Come out. You’ve been in there for two days.” I was banging on her bedroom door, trying to get her attention over the loud music booming from the room.

  I knew she was in there because her window had been nailed shut after she snuck out at fifteen. That was Moves’ idea. His parents did that when his little sister started sneaking out and she’s now a doctor at Cedars Sinai.

  I banged on the door again. “I’ll buy you pie.” I knew it was wrong to bribe her, but I really needed to talk to her.

  The music stopped. “What kind of pie?” she said, through the closed door.

  I grinned, knowing I’d won. “Whatever kind you want. We can go to Tiny’s.”

  The door opened a crack and I saw one brown eye and a pert little nose. “Can I get a burger and fries, too?”

  “Only if you're on the bike in five minutes.”

  The door slammed closed as much as a door can slam when it’s only open three inches and I heard her banging around in her room.

  I grabbed my keys, shrugged on my jacket, got the phone out of the charger, and headed out the front door.

  Tiny’s was a diner located diagonally across the street from the Blue Dog Saloon. Because of its proximity to the biker bar, it was the best spot to grab a bite to absorb all that alcohol. Not that I drank alcohol. I’d never touched the stuff, honestly. After what that shit did to my life? No fucking way.

  Tiny Jimenez was one of the first patches in our MC. He’d run with us for years until his wife Peggy finally got him to give it up. He bought the diner, which used to be a Spires, and now he gets the best of both worlds. He gets to hang out with bikers, but also have a happy wife.

  Happy wife, happy life, isn’t that what they say?

  I was on the bike listening to the engine idle. This machine was such an extension of my body that I could tell just by its sounds whether or not it needed a tune up.

  Lily came out, grabbed her helmet, and slid behind me. She’d grown up in this exact position—on the back of my bike, holding on to the one person she could always count on.

  Tiny’s was only a couple of miles away from the apartment complex we all shared. Outlaw Souls had bought the whole building and almost everybody lived on the property. The exceptions were Yoda and Chalupa. Yoda lived in a largely Asian community downtown with his 101-year-old mother, and Chalupa lived outside of La Playa in the neighboring city of Hacienda. We’d been offering him a place to live with us for years, but he said his mother would kill him if he left home. My guess was that she didn’t know anything about his association with us and he wanted to keep it that way.

  Lily and I didn’t try to talk over the engine, and so I gathered my thoughts about what to say to her. I had to be careful not to piss her off because then she’d shut down and not listen. But I also needed to be direct enough that she understood the danger she was putting herself in. The Las Balas were not people to fuck with.

  If she really thought that kid loved her, then she was as stupid as she was beautiful. I couldn’t just come out and tell her that he was using her, though. She’d probably just get up and walk out.

  “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.” I could hear Yoda’s advice in my mind.

  As I pulled in the dirt lot next to Tiny’s, I was glad to see that no one was here. There were customers, of course. But no bikes, which meant no distractions while I was talking to Lily.

  We locked our helmets and Lily started talking like the teenager she was. “So in chemistry class this bitch Kayla decided that she was just going to copy off of my work like that. So I said, ‘Bitch, do your own fucking work.’ Like, I’m not about to get my grade lowered because she’s too dumb to actually understand chemistry.”

  Despite her stubborn streak and rebellious nature, Lily was actually a really good student—when she wanted to be. If she was interested in a subject or felt the teacher respected her, she’d work her ass off. But if she thought the subject was stupid or had a problem with the teacher, she’d just shut down and not do any work whatsoever.

  I held the door open for her and we walked back to our usual booth. I liked it because it gave me a clear view of the door and all the exits, and our backs were to a wall, not a window. In La Playa you can never be too safe, as drive-by shootings were a real thing around here. I should know. I was one of the best.

  “Hey Ryder,” the waitress said as she came up to our booth. Nodding to Lily, she asked, “You want your same order? Cabellero Burger and curly fries, with a vanilla shake and apple pie a la mode for dessert?”

  Lily looked at me hopefully and I nodded as Julie wrote down the order. “What about you, handsome? Anything look good to you?” She winked at me.

  Lily rolled her eyes and got out her phone. It was always embarrassing when women hit on me in front of her. For both of us.

  Julie Kim was harmless, though. She’d been working here since Tiny opened the place, and I honestly figured that if I did respond to her flirtation she wouldn’t know what to do with it. She was all talk because it led to higher tips.

  “I’ll get a breakfast burrito and black coffee, please.” I folded the menu and handed it to Julie. She appeared to be the only one here today, which was odd. They usually had more than one waitress on the floor. “Where’s Rocky?” I asked, scanning the room.

  “We hired a new girl and she’s training her in the back. Why? Ya need somethin’?”

  I shook my head. “No. Just curious.” Rocky and I had hooked up a couple of tim
es last year and I tended to avoid her now. She’d wanted more but, well, I just wasn’t feeling it.

  Julie went to put our orders in and I turned my attention to Lily. “Lil. I need to talk to you. Can you put your phone down?”

  “Uh huh,” she said, never taking her eyes off the phone. “Just a sec. I’m texting Jax.”

  “You text her day and night, Lily. This is important.” I put my hand over hers. “Please?”

  She sighed dramatically and put the phone aside. “Fine. What?”

  “I need to talk to you about Las Balas.”

  Her face started to get angry again and she said, “I don’t want to talk about this Ryder. I know about Las Balas. Scorpion told me all about them, and said that you were going to try and fill my head with all kinds of lies about them. I told him he was wrong, but I guess not.”

  “Scorpion is a prospect, Lily. Do you honestly think he knows what really goes on? He’s not even a patch yet.”

  “And you think you do?” she said, eyes flaring.

  Before I could answer, Julie came by with my coffee and Lily’s milkshake.

  “I do.” It was such a contradiction to see her sucking on a milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top like a child while we were talking about one of the most vicious clubs in La Playa. “I need to tell you a story.”

  Lily looked at me with those big brown eyes and took a long drink from her milkshake. I’d never wanted to tell her what I was about to say, but it was something she needed to know. I’d done my best to shield her from the realities of the life we led, but it was time for her to know the truth.

  “Remember when you were in the 6th grade, there was a girl at your school that was a year ahead of you? Annie McConnell?”

  Lily pushed the empty milkshake aside just as Julie came over with our order. The plate was barely down when she grabbed a fistful of fries and shoved them in her mouth. “Yeah. She was killed when her family went on vacation in South America. It was some kind of boating accident or something?”