Savior Ch. 10

We rolled to a stop in front of my room. "Why don't you run in, get your dirty clothes, and we'll get them washed," Rand suggested as he killed the engine.

"I only have one dirty set," I replied as I stepped of his bike.

"Two," he corrected as he leaned the bike over and then dismounted. "If you don't get those wet things washed and dried, they're going to smell."

"I can dry them in my room."

"Uh-huh," he grunted.

"I can!"

"Just go get your clothes," he said as he walked to the door and paused, clearly waiting for me to open it.

I unlocked the door. "You've done so much for me already, you're not washing my clothes," I said firmly.

His lips quirked into a sideways grin. "You're right, I'm not. I don't have a washer or dryer... but I know some place that does."

Our gazes remained locked for a moment. "Okay, but I'm paying for it."

He looked away and gripped the doorknob, clearly indicating he was done discussing it, but I caught the flicker of his smile before he did.

"Whatever," he said with a dismissive wave.

Clothes in hand, I followed him out, dumped my dirty clothes into the saddlebag with my wets, and we set off again. Ten minutes later we pulled to a stop in front of WtF Shirt Laundry. I snickered to myself when I saw the fine print that claimed WtF stood for Wash then Fold.

"How're you doing, Maye?" he asked as we entered, speaking to the matronly woman standing behind the counter.

"Been better, been worse. How about you?"

He grinned. "The same. Just a small load today," he said as he plopped my clothes on the counter.

The woman quickly sorted through the pile. "Looks like someone got caught in the rain."

"Nah... she's a mermaid I found washed up on the beach."

Maye snickered. "These should be ready tomorrow."

"Good enough," he said as he placed his hand in my back and nudged me toward the door.

We returned to the motel and I led us into my room. "Do you mind if I shower before we go to the meeting? I feel kind of grungy after being all wet."

"No. Go ahead."

I entered the small, simple bathroom and started the water warming as I stripped out of my clothes. By the time I was done, the water was warm, and I stepped into the tub. I'd warmed up enough to give Rand his jacket back when we stopped at that motorcycle shop, ironically the same one I'd stopped at when looking for the Riders, but I still had the feeling of a deep, bone chilling cold inside me that the steaming water finally leached out.

I quickly showered, using the complementary shampoo and soap, before I stood under the water a moment, luxating in finally feeling warm. I'd recovered from my breakdown in the bathroom at McDonalds and no longer felt weepy, and I wondered if it was because I'd been so miserable that his kindness caused me to lose it like I had. Now, having seen Carl, knowing he was here, and having the Riders helping me, my spirits were higher than they'd been since I was riding back from Eugene with Dad after the charges had been dropped.

Then there was Rand. He was such a dear. He was everything Carl wasn't. Why couldn't I have met him instead of Carl? I wondered as water poured over my head. Why had I fallen for such an asshole when I could have had someone like Rand? Because I thought I wanted a bad boy? They're called bad boys for a reason. I smiled. Rand tickled the part of me that liked bad boys with the way he looked in his leather and sunglasses as he sat on his bike, but he was living proof that looking like a bad boy, and being one, were two different things. He was a good man, and after Carl, that's what I wanted. I smiled as I slapped the water off. I liked that he'd invited me back to see the sights after we found Garrett. Once I got my life put back together, maybe I'd take him up on the invitation if it was still open.

I stepped out of the tub and began drying myself. "How're you holding up?" he called from the bedroom.

"Okay. I don't know if I'm relieved Garrett wasn't with him or upset. Relieved that Carl wasn't riding him on the motorcycle, but it would be just like him to leave Garrett alone in a motel room somewhere."

"Don't worry, Hanna, we'll find him."

I struggled into the clothes he bought me after my soaking. "I hope so. I believe you'll try. I just feel like... I don't know... no matter what I do, nothing ever works out."

"Now you have the Riders helping. You don't have to do it all on your own anymore."

I stepped out of the steamy bathroom and tugged on my shirt to adjust its fit. "I'm not sure how that even works. I've been having to do it all on my own since I moved out and got married."

"How it works is, you do what you can, then let someone else help with what you can't."

"Is that what you do?"

He smiled. "The Riders and Patrick are my family, and when I need something, they're there for me."

"Patrick? Is he in the club?"

"No. He owns the scrapyard where I work."

"Ah, okay." I ran my fingers through my hair, adjusting my locks after I messed them up with the towel. It'd have to do since I forgot my hairbrush. "We'll be a little early, but do you want to go or wait here?"

He glanced at the clock beside the bed. "I guess we can go. Maybe we'll grab that beer you didn't get last night while we wait."

I took a deep breath and let it out slowly between pursed lips. "A beer, or something stronger, sounds pretty good right now."

He jerked his head at the door with a smile. "Then may I buy the lady a drink?"

We rolled to a stop outside of Doonz. "Don't the Riders have a club house?" I asked as I stepped off the bike and began unbuckling my helmet.

"We're at it."

"Your clubhouse is a restaurant?"

"Sure is."

"And you don't worry about... I don't know... people learning your secret plans or whatever?"

"What secrets?" he teased as he nudged me toward the door. "The Bayport Riders Motorcycle Club is an open book." I didn't say anything as he opened the door for me, and I stepped inside. "Hey, CJ," he called as we entered, raising his hand in greeting. "Can we get the room?"

Now I knew the bald man's name. CJ took a long, obvious look around. Most of the tables were empty. "I don't know Rand, we're pretty busy."

Rand snickered. "Two beers, if you please my good man."

"Guinness for her too?"

"You like Guinness?" Rand asked me.

"Don't know. Never had one."

"Two Guinness."

CJ reached behind the bar and sat two dark bottles on the bar. Rand picked them up, nodded to the back of the room, and I followed him through a doorway width opening in the foldable wall.

I glanced around the room where I'd met the Riders for the first time yesterday. "So this really is your clubhouse?"

"Yep."

"Yesterday I thought this just happened to be where you were hanging out at the time."

"It's that too." He paused, and I guess he could sense my confusion. "We don't have a dedicated clubhouse because we don't need one. CJ lets us use this room anytime we like so long as he doesn't need it, which isn't often. Sometimes on Friday and Saturday nights during the summer he gets busy enough he as to open the room, but other than that, we're free to use it any time we want."

"Well, I guess if it works."

"It does. We have a place to meet and do business with food and drink available, plus we don't have to clean up or maintain the place, and CJ gets a regular income stream from us. We also provide informal security if anybody gets rowdy." He shrugged. "We leave the wall mostly closed, unless we're talking club business, then we close it all the way. CJ knows if the wall is closed to let us be. We'll open it again when we're done."

"So what happens if you're meeting and he needs the room?"

"That's never happened since I've been with the club. We know when he's likely to need the room, so we don't schedule meetings then. We might still meet here, but those are just get togethers with the brothers to have a beer and shoot the shit. We can share the room for that." He paused as if thinking. "My guess is, if it ever came up, CJ would tell the customers there was wait until we opened the wall again, but like I said, it hasn't happened since I've been a member. I suppose, if we absolutely, positively had to meet when we know he'll be busy, we could meet at my place. There's plenty of room and privacy there."

I sat and sipped my beer as I looked at him. Compared to what little I knew of the Orcas, the Riders' club ran like a well-oiled machine. They seemed so... together was the only word I could think of. Their clubhouse was a perfect example. Why not use an unused room in a restaurant? They didn't have to buy a building, pay taxes or utilities, maintain it, nothing. Plus, they always had food and beverages available, they didn't have to buy or prepare it themselves, and if they wanted, there was probably someone to bring it to them. It made such perfect sense, I wondered why the Orcas, why all motorcycle clubs, didn't do the same.

"This is good," I said as I swung the bottle between my fingers. "I feel like I have to chew it, though, compared to the other beers I've had."

He grinned. "It's the only beer I know that drinks like a meal."

My bottle was almost empty when Doug arrived, beer and gavel in hand. "Good, you're here. The entire crew will be here tonight. Everyone gets a voice in this."

Over the next fifteen minutes the rest of the brothers arrived and settled into chairs. There was no hesitation about where they sat, some sitting at a table alone, other joining someone else. With twenty tables, there were plenty of places for everyone to sit, but I had the distinct impression that everyone had their favorite place. Rand and I were at a table alone until another man joined us. He nodded to me in greeting but said nothing. After a moment, the man that joined us motioned to a man just entering, and he closed the wall behind himself before moving across the room to sit at a table with two other guys.

"Let's get started," Doug said and gave the gavel a light rap on the block. "As you know, Hanna," he nodded at me and I meekly raised my hand in greeting, "brought to our attention that the Orcas might be moving into Bayport. Rand and Hanna spent the day cruising the town looking for any sign of them. Four members of the Orcas paid a visit to OSB today and more or less confirmed they intend to muscle us out."

"Good luck with that," one of the men said.

"We shouldn't underestimate them," Doug warned. "I'm sure they can bring a lot of pressure to bear."

"So what are we going to do about it?" another man asked.

"That's what we're here to decide."

"Should she be here for this?"

I recognized the last man who spoke as one of the men in the room yesterday, but I either didn't know his name or couldn't remember it. "I can wait outside if you need me to," I offered.

"No," Doug said. "You need to hear this. I know you said you weren't that involved in the club, but you know a lot more about them than we do. You recognized the four men at OSB?"

"Three of them. Carl, Cage and Blade. Those three run together a lot. I didn't know the fourth guy."

"What can you tell us about them?"

"I can tell you that you can't trust them. Carl makes promises he can't keep, and he'll knife you in the back if he thinks it'll get him ahead. Cage and Blade, they're the same way. All three, but Carl especially, talk a big game but usually can't back it up." I paused, but then decided to ask the question that had been bugging me. "There's still something I don't understand. Why are they interested in you?"

The room was quiet. "She already knows a little. She was there when Bryan and I were talking," Rand said.

Doug looked at me. "If you want our help in getting your son back, what I'm about to tell you doesn't leave this room. Understand?" I nodded. "We run an illegal street race."

"That's it? Street racing?"

Doug smiled but there was no humor in it. "That's it, but not just any street race. We hold two events a year. The first one is coming up in a few weeks. We hold our races in the Siuslaw National Forest and racers come in from all over the country, and occasionally the world, to participate."

"I guess I still don't understand. People have been racing cars and motorcycles on the street forever. Why is yours such a big deal?"

"Because it's the biggest event of its kind in the country. Some call it the Oregon Isle of Man or the Oregon TT. We have between fifty and a hundred riders show up to compete. We race in mid-May, then again in mid-September. We skip the heavy tourist season because it's too hard then, and winter for obvious reasons."

"A hundred racers? Is that a lot?"

"It is. It's spread out over four races, but it's still a big event. We hold the races in one night. You race against the clock over one lap of what we call the Green Hell. We take ten percent of the purse and the winners split the other ninety percent."

"What's the purse?"

"It depends on how many riders enter. It's five thousand to enter, so if we have a hundred entrants, we make fifty thousand and the first three places share the other four-fifty. Seventy-five percent goes to the winner, twenty percent to second, and five percent to third."

"Now I see why the Orcas are interested you. That's right up their alley."

"It's a big enough deal the local economy gets a significant lift," Rand added. "You remember Bryan saying how he gets a bump twice a year? That's us. Not to mention the motels and restaurants."

I began to nod, the pieces falling into place. "I can see it. Carl liked to brag how the Orcas would move into an area and start taking over businesses they were interested in, or setting up a competing business and then use dirty tricks to drive their competitors under. That was probably what the visit to that motorcycle place was all about. Snooping around to see who might be interested in selling or getting into bed with them."

"What else can you tell us?" Doug asked.

I pulled a face. "Not a lot. After the first couple of years, I wasn't part of the scene much. It's hard to know how much is truth and how much is Carl making shit up. I know the President of the Eugene chapter likes him, or at least Carl said he does. It wouldn't surprise me if Carl were trying to run this operation. He's always looking for the big score and he may be thinking this is his chance. If he is, he'll do anything to make it work and won't care who, or what, gets ruined along the way. He's one of those types that if he can't have something, he'll destroy it so nobody else can have it either."

"Your ex sounds like a real asshole," another of the men I hadn't seen before said.

"You have no idea," I replied, causing a chuckle to roll through the room.

Doug drummed his fingers on the table a moment. "Okay. Here's what I want to do. Rand, take Miss Hanna here around to OSB, Conner's and WCHP on Monday. Have a sit down with them and explain what's going on and why they need to back our play. If the Orcas get a toehold, they'll to be hell to push out. Make sure they know we've got their backs." His gaze slid to the other man at our table. "Vince, take some brothers and start making the rounds tomorrow. Motels, restaurants, everyone. Let's try to freeze these assholes out. No point in being hospitable while they're trying to fuck us in the ass." He paused again. "Anyone else have any ideas?"

"What about Stu?" another man I hadn't seen before today asked quietly. "We owe them for that."

After the murmur of agreement fell silent, Doug nodded. "Agreed, but first thing's first. We don't know where they're staying, so let's try to push them out into the open and put them on the defensive. Then we can deal with the Orcas in the only way they understand. Anyone else?"

I licked my lips while I gathered my courage. "I have something. You remember our bargain? I've made good on my part, and I'll help you as much as I can, but you have to promise me you'll help me get my son back."

Doug smiled at me. "I remember. It can't be our first priority. My first priority is to this club and then to Bayport, but if the opportunity presents itself, we'll your son back to you. Is that good enough?"

I chewed on my bottom lip as I thought. I didn't want to push the Riders too hard, piss them off, and have them give me a boot in the ass for being a pain in theirs. They had the information now, so I didn't have anything left to bargain with. His offer, as qualified as it was, was probably a hell of a lot more than the Orcas would have done for me.

"Yes, thank you."

"Anything else?" Doug asked. When no one spoke, he banged the gavel softly. "Adjourned. Rand, Hanna, wait a minute, please. Vince, you, too."

After the rest of the brother filed out, Doug looked at the three of us. "First, Hanna, thank you for bringing this to our attention and helping us." He then turned his attention to Rand and Vince. "I didn't want to commit the club, but Rand, you and Vince try to work out how to get her son back, unofficially and off the record. The club will support you as much as we can, but if it goes south and the cops get involved, I'll have to let you burn rather than pull the club down."

Rand and Vince nodded at the same time. "Understood," Rand said. "I'll take point on that since Hanna and I will be working together anyway. Vince can back me up if I need it."

Vince wasn't much taller than me. He was at least four inches shorter than Rand, and a couple inches shorter than Doug. He was a lanky man with sharp features and hair so dark it seemed to absorb light, but like most of the Riders, he had a quick smile.

"You got it, brother. I'm only a phone call away."

Doug then turned his attention back to me. "I need to you sell this, okay? When you and Rand talk to the speed shops, you lay out why getting involved with the Orcas is a bad idea. Don't lie, because that may come back to bite us in the ass later, but make it damn clear, as clear as you possibly can, they don't want to get in bed with the Orcas no matter what they promise. If Carl is fronting this operation, make sure they know who they're dealing with."

I smiled, but it was the smile of a cat looking at a mouse. "That, Mr. President, will be my pleasure. I don't know all the ins and outs of what the Orcas do, but I know enough to know nobody should want to do business with them."

"Good girl," Doug said with a smile then looked at Vince. "She's our ace in the hole, and I'm going to play her for all she's worth." He paused as he grinned at me, and his smile was as cold as mine had been. "This your chance to fuck Carl, and the Orcas, but good."

I smiled again, a genuine smile this time. If revenge was a dish best served cold, I was going to frost Carl's ass. "Oh, you have no idea how much I'm looking forward to doing just that."

Vince held his hand up with a big smile. It was clear what he wanted, so I slapped it with my own. "You go girl!" he cheered as our hands connected.