Page 41 of Salute, To Bravery

Lance.

Further sources mentioned the war that followed for Rage between Drake and Bulldog and the bodies that’d fallen or disappeared.

I’d no doubt Drake and the Rage brothers had made them disappear.

None of Rage held criminal records. While I didn’t doubt their hands were covered in blood, I could understand why.

Rage under Bulldog had been a local nightmare.

Most of the missing held criminal records for all sorts of shit.

Yet, I knew some of those present today had been involved in claiming Rage back.

It was a mystery how they’d not done time.

Since taking Rage, Drake had turned their reputation around.

He’d donated large chunks of money to charities.

Rage actively took part in protecting the community they once exhorted.

They had even put several past wrongs right.

People who’d lost businesses and homes under Bulldog had been hunted down and given reparation.

That alone intrigued me because those crimes had been under Bulldog, yet Drake felt obligated to rectify them.

That spoke to me of honour, respect, and loyalty to the local community. Rage also worked hand in hand with the cops. In the last seven years, Rage had done a complete one-eighty. I’d had doubts when I’d seen them in the bar and had expected them to be involved in the drug dealing.

Of course, when we moved here, we’d done our research. We knew of several MCs in the area, no doubt attracted by Sturgis. But none of them had registered as ‘One Percenters’, so we’d not dived too deeply into them.

Last night, as soon as we got back, Worm had started his research and briefed us an hour before we left today.

If I hadn’t liked what Worm reported back, I’d have given excuses and kept us away from Rage.

But the club intrigued me. From filthy dirty to almost squeaky clean.

And I say almost because I had no doubt that those who tried to cause trouble ended up in a dirt grave.

MCs usually made allies if they didn’t have brother chapters. Rage had a brother chapter, which was confusing as they were two different names.

I held Drake’s gaze and spoke.

“Hellfire MC. What is the relationship? You’re not the same club.”

“Hellfire’s Prez is my older cousin Chance.

We’re more like brothers. Our fathers were brothers who opened the MCs.

Back then, the clubs were about brotherhood, riding, and drinking.

They both turned bad under two dirty presidents, who wrongfully took our legacies.

Chance and I both went to war to claim our clubs, and we took them.

Yeah, Lance, Rage did shameful shit in the past, but we’ve spent the last seven years making things right.

“Rage ain’t no angels. Don’t pretend to be. But if we offer a relationship, be warned, we’ll stick to it unless you stab us in the back. Rage is looking for long-term allies who share our goals. We think you have them, so we’re reaching out, offering a hand of friendship,” Drake replied.

“And if you fought with another club, would we be expected to step in?”

“Depends. If that MC affects your club as well as Rage, then yes, you are required to defend yourselves working alongside us. If we start a war with someone who hasn’t bothered you, then no. You ain’t fodder, Lance; you’re an ally. Heard of the Unwanted Bastards?”

“Yeah, they roll out of Merritt.”

“Hellfire and Unwanted Bastards are both allies. I’d say reach out to Hellfire, but they’re family. You aren’t gonna trust them. But Unwanted Bastards don’t owe us shit; reach out to them—or Satan’s Warriors in Deadwood. They’re also allies,” Drake responded.

“Let’s discuss what this relationship would look like,” I said, sitting back in my chair and relaxing. “Fallen Warriors is small, so I don’t see why Rage would want any association with us.”

“Small isn’t bad,” Drake mumbled with a wolfish smile.

That, I decided, was a matter of opinion, although I agreed. We might’ve been tiny, but we were mighty.

Bat

I listened closely to Drake, trying to see what he wasn’t saying, but he appeared genuinely upfront.

Drake was open and honest about the bullshit his club had previously pulled, and seemed contrite.

Even so, I watched Rage’s inner circle and how they reacted.

Drake might be a master at hiding his true self, but not everyone could, and it would be someone in his inner circle who’d slip.

However, they appeared friendly enough, if not guarded.

The terms were what I expected of an ally, and I knew Lance felt the same.

Lance didn’t have a tell anymore, not since we’d joined up and he’d learnt to control them.

I noticed that bothered Drake, who was trying to read him, as were Ace and Apache.

They had to be brothers; they looked so alike.

Some of the others were also trying to read the rest of us, and they were just as perplexed.

None of us were showing any emotions, facial expressions, or body language they could pick up on.

Mind you, Rage was good too, but we were better. Rage still had a few little tells, which I picked up on, but it benefitted them because their reactions were genuine. Which meant they believed what Drake was offering was the truth.

After the meeting broke up, we headed outside, where a keg had been set up, and the grills were cooking, now manned by four men.

They were bantering back and forth and clearly arguing about who barbecued the best. I let myself relax a little.

Should it prove to be an ambush, they’d lose because we were fully armed.

Reaper

“You’re an enforcer?” a huge guy asked.

I turned around and faced him. “Yeah. Seems you are, too,” I said, nodding at a patch.

“Name’s Gunner. And no offence, but really think you can go up against the big men?” Gunner demanded as he scowled.

“Do you have a ring? Do you want to go here and now?” I questioned, handing my glass and plate to Tempest, who laughed. Stern faced, I rolled my neck and shoulders to loosen up.

“Don’t fight a cripple or a woman,” the asshole announced.

“Fine by me.” Without warning, my hand shot out and punched Gunner straight on the nose. A cry of pain escaped Gunner’s lips after the crunch was heard.

“Reaper!” Lance bellowed.

“All good, Prez. Gunner here wants to know why I’m an enforcer. Just giving him a demo,” I called as Gunner lifted his head, blood dripping through his fingers.

“You little bitch,” he groaned.

With a wicked grin, I danced around and beckoned Gunner on. “Ain’t no bitch nor a cripple. Bring it, big guy,” I taunted. “Aww, scared of losing to a woman?”

Gunner growled and dropped his hands. Blood dripped from his nose, and he snatched a towel someone offered him. Cleaning himself, Gunner kept a sharp watch on me as I waited for him to decide.

Gunner took two steps forward, and I knew the game was on. Damn, Gunner was a big brute, but they always fell hard. With his longer reach, my speed was important. We traded a couple of tester blows, and then I rocked Gunner back with a right blow, followed by a left.

“Hundred on Reaper,” Tempest announced, and I smiled.

“Ain’t no way she’s taking Gunner,” Mac argued. “I’ll take that bet.”

“Warn your people. Reaper doesn’t lose,” Lance said.

“Two hundred on Gunner,” Drake stated with a smile.

“Two hundred on Reaper,” Lance retorted.

Gunner came at me like I guessed he would. Brute strength and using his size. I was easily able to duck under his blows and hit him with three torso shots. Darting back, I lunged at Gunner with a roundhouse but swapped and kicked upwards, landing both feet under his chin.

Gunner staggered, dazed, as I ducked a wild blow but got struck with the second.

“Shit, that bitch can take a hit,” Axel boomed.

Fuck! That hurt. Gunner had power behind those fists, and he probably had stamina. I had to end this fast. We traded several more blows, both of us connecting them. I saw stars when a right hook of Gunner’s landed on my cheekbone. Crap, I’d have a massive black eye.

Neither of us were holding back, and we were both studying each other’s fighting technique.

So, I changed mine up. That took Gunner by surprise as I came straight at him. Gunner automatically lashed out, but I slipped around his back, landed three kidney shots and climbed him. He was in a headlock before he realised what was happening.

“Submit,” I growled as he clawed at my arms. “I’ve got a lock on!”

Gunner bucked and attempted to throw me off, but my legs were firmly clamped around him, and my headlock was in place.

“Submit, Gunner, or I will choke you out!” I warned.

Gunner reached over his shoulder and grabbed my tee. He tried hauling me off as he fell to his knees. I could feel his struggle for air and knew he had mere seconds left before he blacked out.

Gunner tipped forward and twisted onto his back, attempting to squash me, but it was a futile move. I only had to hold on for a few more moments, and then his body relaxed.

Only, I didn’t let go. I sensed it was a trap and was right when he began struggling again in vain. Finally, the fight left Gunner just as his weight was beginning to affect me, and he slumped in my arms.

I released my grip and shoved him off me, leaping to my feet, ready in case he got up. I gulped in lungfuls of air; shit, Gunner was a heavy bastard. But Gunner stayed down. While Fallen Warriors whooped it up and held their hands out, Rage stared at me in disbelief.

“Never saw that coming,” Apache said, holding out a handful of money.

“People underestimate me because of my size. More fool them,” I replied dispassionately.

“Won’t make that mistake again,” Drake added and glanced at our group. “With any of you.”

“Anyone wanna fight a cripple?” Bat asked with a grin, pulling up his jean leg. His metal bionic leg shone in the light.

“Wow,” Axel boomed, coming closer to peer at it. “Not seen that before.”

“An amputee or the leg,” Bat asked, chuckling.

“The leg, you prick,” Axel retorted.

“It’s bionic. We’ve all got bionic limbs. I figured the army owed us after screwing up their intel. When they make significant improvements in the future, we’ll also get those. Part of our severance package,” Lance explained.

“How’s it feel?” Axel asked, and I grinned as he took a shot in the ribs from Texas, who Axel promptly thumped on the head.

“You can’t be asking that shit,” Ace hissed at Axel.

“It’s fine. People are curious. To be honest, considering the state of the old prosthetic limbs the army dealt out, I’m relieved we got these.

These are bionic, and the army is trialling them.

But they’re almost as good as the limbs we all lost, and honestly, there’s hardly anything we can’t do in them.

But the army still discharged us,” Lance replied.

“Well, little lady, let’s get you a beer,” Axel boomed in approval at me.

I grinned over my shoulder as Axel led us away. Axel asked if I had any bionic parts and was disappointed when I said no. When he asked what my disability was, he looked surprised and then laughed when I explained I was an emotional cripple. The thing was, I wasn’t joking.