Temperance: Biker Romance (The Davis Chapter Book 2) (12 page)

Lucky spoke, his voice low and solemn. “Allen Danielson came to California from Idaho in oh three. He was a restless soul like all of us. He found trouble as easily as it found him. I met him three years ago, and I can honestly say I never had a better friend. I wish I could say that this hurts more than the day he told us about the cancer, but it doesn’t. He never showed it, but we all knew he was hurting bad.” Bandit squeezed my hand as Lucky went on, “If given the choice, Alcatraz wouldn’t have wanted to die any other way. We pray that the Lord take him into his flock, and that Alcatraz rides point from here on out.”

The Rising Sons all whispered, “Amen.”

I cried as they pulled the leather cut from his shoulders. It was littered with bullet holes and blood. Trask and another biker carefully put a different one on him. There was a completely different design on the back. I caught the word Devil’s, but nothing else.

The president of the Rising Sons looked around once the job was done. “Boys, I think it’s time we head home.” He sounded tired, like the weight of the world was on his shoulders. I knew the feeling well.

Back at the Watering Hole, a woman was waiting for us when we walked inside. She had her hair pulled back in a tight bun, and she stood in front of a table laid out with medical equipment. I cocked an eyebrow as if I hadn’t seen enough strange shit for one night.

“Celeste, Hope. Hope, Celeste.” Trask walked straight to her and pulled her in for a rough kiss. Once he was satisfied, Trask dropped into a chair.

She looked around, a schoolgirl smile on her face. It disappeared as she pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “Okay, who needs what?”

Bandit pointed to my mother, who stood beside me, wide-eyed and dazed. “Check her out first. I think the men won’t mind letting the pretty lady go first.” It warmed my heart to hear Bandit jump in and take a little control. She never cared for him much, but I hoped that my family would understand just how much he had done for them. He was going to be in my life for a long time, so I wanted everyone to warm up to each other.

Mom hadn’t said a word since we loaded her in the back of Bandit’s car. I tried to get her to speak, but it wasn’t happening. After what she had been through, I could understand. Bandit told me that Hope was in med school, which helped ease my fears of her looking over my mother. Other than some shock, my mom was given a clean bill of health.

“Want me to take a look at that?” Hope pointed toward my forehead. I had forgotten about it.

I shook my head, “I’ll live. Some of these men are worse than me. Take care of them, please.” Bandit handed me a tear of shirt, and I pressed it against my forehead. It would do until the real wounds were looked after.

As I watched Hope attend to the wounded men, Bandit sat beside me. “Your mom is safe now. You are safe now. Conrad is just a bad memory.”

“The kind of memory that clings onto you.”

He nodded. “I agree. It would worry me if that didn't leave an impact. I’d think you were a psychopath or something.”

I had to laugh, even with exhaustion taking me over. Bandit was always there with some dark humor to lighten the mood.
 

He started laughing, too. “You gonna make it, sweetheart?”

“Yeah. I just need a bed like nobody’s business.” My eyes were barely staying up, and I could hear a drunken slur in my voice. “We’ve got to take my mom home, though.”

Hope jumped in. “Actually, I think it might be best if she stay with me for the night. She’s not hurt, but I think she is pretty shaken up. I have a few sleep aids, and eight solid hours might do her a world of good. It’s up to you, though.”

I looked to Bandit, then around the bar. It was filled with outlaws, most of them bandaged up in one way or another. A week beforehand, I’d never consider leaving my mom with anyone like them. Now they were just as much my family as she was.
 

Trask slid an arm around Hope’s waist. “Are we having a guest over for the night?”

I smiled. “If you think it’s best. Hope, Trask, I can’t thank you two enough. I don’t know what would’ve happened without you and the Sons.”

Bandit pulled me to him and kissed my forehead, careful to avoid the injury at my temple. “I know that nothing good would have happened.”

“He’s right.” Trask looked around. “These guys might smell and have some shit manners, but they know right from wrong. They are good men. We’re glad to have you joining our ranks, Celeste.”

The pride in Trask’s voice couldn’t be missed. For the first time in more than a year, I felt at home.

Three months after everything went down at Blythe mansion, my life had been changed with a dramatic hand. I cursed Conrad for crippling me with money. Living with Bandit was hard to get used to. He lived a fairly simple life. No more foyer; personal cook; maid; or Lexus. It was as if that was Conrad’s last means of hurting me.

The stress was high for Bandit, too. He was used to living alone, and I’m sure my insistence on a clean house grated on him. Actually, I’m sure of it. After a few days, we were at each other’s throats, and I was worried that we couldn’t keep it together. One day, he left in the middle of a fight, and I began to think of moving back in with my mother. She could use the help, and I could use the space.

Then we took a trip. Bandit came home and tossed me a helmet. We rode out near Lake Tahoe and found a secluded spot in the pines. The tension between us shattered into the hottest angry sex I could ever remember. We collapsed beside Bandit’s Harley in the shade of the forest. I lay on his chest and we talked through things. Sometimes a rough fuck is just what a relationship needs.

I’m not saying we were without our problems, but things got better every day. Bandit and I began carving out a life together. He started picking up his clothes instead of just tossing them on the floor. It was progress, at least.

For the first time in over a year, I went back to work. I had years of experience as a bookkeeper for a construction firm, but I didn’t think I could go back to the regular working-stiff world. Lucky for me, the Rising Sons were in need of someone good when it came to numbers and bad when it came to morals. It was a perfect fit.

As the Rising Sons Motorcycle Club, Davis Chapter began to grow, we found new and creative ways to bring in money. A more established gang in town seemed to be losing more and more steady jobs as the government had them under the microscope. We began running protection jobs up and down California. Between the Bakersfield chapter and ours, we had most of the great state under our thumb.
 

When the first Brazilian contacted Trask about the vacuum created when Conrad Blythe disappeared, he called the Davis Chapter together for a meeting. When Bandit told me what the meeting would be about, it was like I was trapped in the house with Conrad all over again.

“Please tell me he’s not considering working with them. Please, Bandit.”

He raised his hands. “I don’t know. We’ll have to wait and see. Trask is a hard man to read.”
 

That night, my heart raced hard as I feared that my life was somehow pulling me back to something I didn’t want it to be. Just when I thought I had fallen into an amazing groove with Bandit, the life Conrad forced onto me was creeping back up. I sat beside the bikers I had adopted as my own. I saw them as an extended family. They were my brothers.

“We’re here to discuss drugs.” Trask stood, a bottle of Rolling Rock sweating on the bar in front of him.
 

A few of the bikers cheered, pulling some laughter from others.

“Not the fun kind, unfortunately.” Trask wore a smile, but his words sounded hard. “Blythe had something of an empire, and his contacts in South America are feeling the pinch. Since the Devil’s Branch are laying quite low, I guess we were next on their Rolodex. Here’s what they-”

The door to the bar swung open, and everyone spun around to see who was interrupting our meeting. Romero strolled through the door, a shit-eating grin on his face.

“The prodigal son returns. So good of you to join us for a change.” Trask echoed the feelings of everyone in the bar. Romero had once been thought of as second-in-command with the Rising Sons, but he was barely around anymore. Anytime someone brought it up with him, he deflected. Suspicions were beginning to grow around him. There were rumors that he would soon start rolling with the Devil’s Branch. Even I knew it would be a huge blow to the Rising Sons. Romero was equal parts muscle and mind, and he was a hell of a lot of both. Between all of that and his charming good looks, he almost never seemed off.

“Hey, don't let me interrupt. I got caught up with some stuff. Didn't mean to be late.” He dragged a chair over to the group, the loud scrape along the floor doing nothing to help his case.

Trask turned away as if another second of looking at Romero would push him over the edge. “As I was saying, the Brazilians have product, but they have no one to distribute. Apparently we're gaining something of a reputation. They know we get the job done, and we keep our mouths shut.

“Some clubs run like a dictatorship. This one does not. This goes up for a vote, and I'm not going to say anything one way or another. My vote doesn't mean anymore or any less than all of you. Celeste,” My heart stopped at the sound of my name. “Since this would be a very large financial burden on you, I think it's only fair that you get a vote, too. Does anyone disagree?”

I was surprised that Trask would give me that honor. I wasn't really a brother, but I felt the respect of everyone in the room. Not a single one said anything, giving me the go ahead.
 

“Good. I want everyone to weigh the consequences of this decision. It could mean an incredible amount of money, and it could mean an incredible amount of trouble. With a few noted exceptions.” Trask stared right at Romero. “Everyone here saw firsthand what a drug empire means. I'll give you five minutes to think about it, then we vote.”

Outside behind the bar, my voice was frantic but low. “Bandit, is this thing going to pass? If it does, we become Conrad. We're no better than him. We might as well have joined him.”

“Keep your voice down.” I didn't like how secretive Bandit was being about all of this. It worried me deep down to my soul. “We have to accept the outcome. You heard Trask. The Rising Sons are a democracy. I hope you know in your heart which way I'm going to vote, though. My love for you is more important than any amount of power or money.”

I threw my arms around Bandit. I knew the power and money might be too tempting for some, but I believed in Bandit. I believed that he loved me more than anything else. I wanted to believe…

We headed back inside, wrote down our vote, and each dropped our paper into the cowboy hat. Trask counted the votes with Thunder watching right beside him. My heart raced as I waited to see what the Rising Sons wanted their future to be. I knew he was counting a second time just to be sure, but I thought the tension would snap me in two. It seemed to take forever to get through the fourteen slips of paper

Trask wrote down a number. He showed the paper to Thunder, who nodded.

The president of the Rising Sons Davis Chapter looked around, and spoke, “Twelve to one."