Page 40 of Salute, To Bravery

Lance

I rounded the corner, ready to defend Raddock, and found the Rage MC brothers opposite Raddock, Owl, and Worm.

“They came out after you and followed Raddock; we followed them,” Owl stated.

I nodded, noting how their bodies were loose, but their eyes gave away their battle readiness. Something that Drake—their president—had also noticed as he kept his hands in the open and his own language relaxed.

“Who’s this Santos?” I demanded of Drake, and a surprise expression appeared on his face. He’d not expected that.

“A local crime boss, Miguel Santos, is his name. Asshole runs some of the underground here and doesn’t like people pissing in his patch. If you are here to sell drugs, Santos will shut you down,” Drake said.

“And if you’re here to sell yours, the road’s that way.

We’ll be friendly and let you go without any bruises or damage.

Just like we did him, but come back and we’ll close you down and won’t be so welcoming next time.

From now on, the bar is clean. Fallen Warriors don’t like drugs, nor the assholes who sell them,” I said firmly.

A big guy behind Drake openly gaped at me and then laughed. “Who do you think you’re threatening, dude?” he demanded.

I caught his patch, and his name was Texas.

“Ain’t threatening. Where I come from, we don’t threaten. We make promises,” I replied.

“And where is that?” Drake questioned.

“As far as you’re concerned, Hell,” I stated.

“He’s a cocky asshole, brother, considering we outnumber them,” Texas said.

“Do you?” I asked and lifted my head. “Paint them, Reaper.”

Rage watched as a red dot hit each of their chests, and Drake raised an eyebrow.

“Damn, we had eyes on the bar and didn’t see another person arrive,” Drake admitted.

“Two. Reaper is with Sniper,” I replied.

“Still a cocky fuck,” Texas boomed, amused.

“I’m thinking he’s earned that right,” Drake mumbled.

“He said they’re Special Forces, and he lost a limb,” Ace said, nodding at me.

Drake glanced in my direction, his eyes narrowing. He then turned to the Bat, Owl, Raddock, and Worm, and he looked surprised.

“You’ve all lost limbs. And you’ve all served, it shows in the way you carry yourself,” Drake stated.

“Yup. But don’t think we’re cripples. We can still hold our own,” I warned.

“Lance, I ain’t got a problem with you if you’re clean,” Drake replied.

“Same here. However, that piece of shit has an issue,” I said, nodding to Jay, who was huddled behind Raddock, who had gagged and cuffed him.

“Yeah?” Drake asked.

“Asshole is selling drugs in my bar, which is going to be legal. And he’s also scamming me, sending me receipts for top-notch liquor and serving swill. Wonder what else he’s running,” I mused.

“Considering the waitresses you got in there, I’d say pussy,” Ace offered.

“Only seen the one, and that wasn’t pretty,” Bat said, and another guy grinned. His name was Fish.

“I wouldn’t be touching that wearing a hazmat suit,” Fish commented, and I completely agreed.

“You’re shutting this shit down?” Drake asked

“Yup. I want a clean bar that the Air Force and local vets can use. That’s our aim,” Bat answered.

“You bought this together?” Texas inquired, swapping a glance with Drake.

“Yeah. Why is that an issue?” I demanded.

“Seems they’re more like us than we realised, Pres,” Ace murmured.

I folded my arms and levelled my stare at them that had made men crack.

Drake laughed. “Nice try. Rage runs a clean club. Well, we do now. Why don’t you deal with Jay here and do what you gotta do tonight? Tomorrow, come to the Rage garage; our clubhouse is behind it. We serve better shit than this craphole, no offence,” Drake said.

“We’ll be there. Parley?” I asked.

Drake’s eyes narrowed. “Get you’re new. But if you are offered to visit Rage, Parley isn’t needed.

Rage’s word is our bond, and while on Rage, no blood will be shed.

We’ve been clean since two thousand and seven and have a story similar to yours.

We’ll shoot some shit, share stories, and see where we go from there.

Rage is always looking for allies; you won’t have any yet. So, let’s see how we get along, okay?”

“Fine, but my family will be armed. They earned that right,” I warned.

“Family is a strange word for brothers, Lance.”

“Isn’t it just.” I smiled.

Drake raised an eyebrow, offered a chin lift, and walked away. I turned my attention to the trembling Jay and gave him a feral smile.

◆◆◆

“Don’t like this,” Tempest complained, almost sulking.

As I dismounted, I faced my complaining secretary.

Tempest had argued against us meeting Rage and then demanded we have some snipers on the empty building opposite Rage.

I told her Parley rules were in place, and she’d pouted before giving me the bird.

I had more respect as a lieutenant than a president. Sucks to be me.

“We are going in together, and don’t bullshit me; you’re armed to the teeth, Tempest,” I murmured.

“Fuck, yeah,” she agreed, swinging off her Harley.

Reaper swung down beside Tempest, her blank gaze taking in everything at once. “We’re being watched, but not hunted.”

“No snipers?” I asked, almost teasing, but I knew Reaper was scanning the surroundings.

“All clear.”

Reaper parked behind us. She was under orders that at the first sign of trouble, she got the fuck out of there, grabbed Kane, and ran. We had a secret location where we’d meet if we ever had to flee.

Bat climbed off his bike as he studied the building in front of us. The doors swung open, and Drake and Ace came towards us with a walking mountain behind them.

“Welcome to Rage,” Drake announced, stopping short. His eyes took in my people, and then he landed on Tempest and Reaper.

“Family,” Drake said, and I knew he’d guessed who the girls were. The mountain hadn’t.

“Dude, you didn’t need to bring women. We’ve got enough whores here without your own,” he boomed.

“Axel!” Ace groaned, his stare landing on the girls’ colours.

“What? They can use our pussy, didn’t need to bring some with them. Don’t they think we know how to host a visiting club?” Axel continued, and despite myself, I was amused at his outrage.

“Do I look like a fuckin’ whore?” Tempest hissed.

“Do I?” Reaper demanded, a knife appearing in her fingers as she flicked it over her knuckles.

The man turned to Reaper and finally gave her a thorough look. “Oh, fuck,” he gasped.

“Yeah,” Reaper agreed, pocketing the blade. “I’m a Fallen Warrior enforcer.”

“Ain’t no cripple, those pants show everything and leave nothing to the imagination. Thought you said their club was full of cripples,” Axel boomed, and Ace reached up and slapped him around the head.

“Jesus, Axel, put a filter on it,” Ace groaned.

“It’s okay, we have one of them too. He’s called Raddock,” I said as Axel realised he wasn’t being diplomatic. I had to wonder if Axel was some sort of test Rage ran new alliances through.

“Sorry, girl,” Axel boomed at Tempest, who wrinkled her nose.

“The insults get worse. Do I look like a girl or a woman?”

“Tempest,” I warned, well aware of her temper.

Tempest huffed and then nodded and let it go.

“No offence taken,” she replied, and Reaper sighed.

Drake looked on, amused.

“This is Tempest, our secretary, and Reaper, our other enforcer. You know Bat, my VP, Raddock, Owl, and Worm,” I said.

“You’ve got someone missing… Sniper?” Drake asked.

“He’s watching our homes,” I replied.

Drake considered that and then nodded.

“This is Ace, my VP, whom you met last night. This is Apache, his father, and one of my enforcers. Texas is our secretary, and Fish is my SAA. Axel is our last remaining founder.”

I caught the warning in Drake’s words and guessed any disrespect would not be tolerated towards Axel.

“This is Gunner, my other enforcer, and Rock,” Drake finished his introductions. “There are more brothers waiting inside the clubhouse, but we didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

I glanced over to where there was hollering, and Drake rolled his eyes. Two guys in cuts were chest to chest and shouting in each other’s faces.

“Manny, Mac, quit!” Drake bellowed.

“This asshole ain’t grilling, Drake!” one shouted back.

“Fuck me,” Drake muttered and then hollered, “Mac, let Manny grill.”

“The hell I will,” the guy called Mac replied

“You can have Manny or Ezra? Which one?” Drake yelled.

“Manny! Ezra’s a putz,” came the immediate reply.

A third man added from the clubhouse entrance, “I heard that asshole.”

Even though he was taking part in the shouting match, his eyes were on us. I saw his reaction to Tempest and Reaper and hid a smile. The devil had more chance than he did of getting in their pants.

“You were meant to,” Mac replied in a sing-song voice.

“Will fuckin’ Huey, Duey, and Louie shut the fuck up. We got guests!” Axel bellowed, and Tempest turned to me with a what the hell stare. I wasn’t far behind her.

“Oh, goodie,” Drake muttered sarcastically. “Now we’re reduced to childhood taunts. Let them fight it out. If Ezra grills, I hope you like your spices. If it’s Manny, be prepared for everything to be dipped in barbecue sauce.”

“I’ll fuckin’ grill,” a fourth man entered the argument, and Drake looked beleaguered.

“Lowrider!” Drake snarled before turning with an apology on his face. “I’d say these assholes ain’t usually like this, but I would be lying. Come to the clubhouse, we’ll grab drinks and chat.”

With a nod, I followed Drake, my brothers and sisters falling in together behind me.

Rage’s clubhouse was what we expected: cream walls, posters, and pictures, a bar, pool table, darts board, and scruffy furniture.

The one thing I immediately noticed was it was tidy.

Despite being old and scuffed, the furniture was well-maintained and clean.

There were more brothers either sitting or standing, and some had scantily clad women on their laps.

Everybody looked up and stared as we entered.

“These bitches are ranked Fallen Warrior sisters, they’re not whores, and you’ll keep your bastard hands to yourselves,” Axel stated.

Tempest snickered while Reaper held her blank gaze. That in itself was more than off-putting.

“Now we’re bitches,” Reaper murmured.

Axel looked mortified and then shrugged. “Always gonna put my foot in it.”

“Ain’t that so,” Texas replied.

“Church is this way,” Drake announced, and I stopped in my tracks. Drake peered over his shoulder and frowned.

“We aren’t looking to merge or join with you,” I stated, ignoring the rest of Rage watching us.

“Who said that’s what we are offering?” Drake asked, turning.

“Inviting us into your church. Church is for club members only,” I replied.

“Yeah. Unless we’re holding a meeting with another club, and church is the only place to discuss shit without being overheard. I trust my brothers, but we’ve club sluts in and out all the time. Ain’t talking business when one of them might be spying,” Drake answered.

“Good point,” Bat responded and sent me a quelling stare, telling me to loosen up.

Drake opened a door, and we entered another room. A huge wooden table with the Rage patch carved into the centre dominated it.

“Sit anywhere,” Drake said, and I took the chair opposite him. My family closed in around me.

“So, what is today about?” I asked.

“Allies. I had Mac do some research, it seems you were telling the truth. Each of you is ex-armed forces or rather, you’re retired vets. And most of your shit is redacted, makes a man think you’d be valuable allies.”

“Medically discharged and with honour,” I stated. That made a difference. We hadn’t suffered dishonourable discharges.

“Yeah. And you are all amputees,” Drake said.

“Got a point?” Raddock demanded.

“No, dude. Thank you for your service and sacrifice, all of you. The fact you’re all medically retired means one thing, you understand honour,” Drake continued.

“Yes,” I replied.

“Rage is about honour. A few years ago, we were extremely dirty. Anything illegal we were into. I assumed control and brought the club into the light. Getting us clean was a hard road. Blood was spilled, and several met the reaper before Rage was clear of all illegal shit. We fought our own brothers, and shit went down that scarred many of us. But we stand here today, free men who understand the meaning of honour.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to figure out where Drake was heading.

“Honour means a lot to us. We will never return to our previous state. When we reach out to a potential ally, we ensure they understand about clean, legal living and honour. Respect also plays a huge part. When we heard you’d opened a clubhouse in Box Elder, you were close enough that we checked you out.

Fallen Warriors are small, but allies aren’t about size.

It’s about skills and what you bring to the mix. ”

“And if we don’t want a relationship, it would be open season on us?” Bat asked.

“Nope. Rage doesn’t do that shit.”

“Then tell me what Rage does,” I said, leaning forward. “But first, got a drink? It’s hot in here.”

Drake chuckled darkly. “We can do that.”