Savior Ch. 25

"I don't know where we're going to put everyone," Patrick said as another Rider and a woman arrived.

"Just be thankful some of the wives left town, otherwise we'd have to deal with more than sixty people, not forty-six, not to mention the kids," Rand said before he turned his attention to me. "That's Brock and Janene," he continued, as the big, red-headed man and a petite woman stepped out of a Toyota SUV.

Three days ago, the BRMC had met with the Orcas. The past two days, Rand, Patrick, and the rest of the BRMC, had been in a mad scramble as the Riders prepared for the war they knew was coming. Of the thirty-one members of the BRMC, one had elected to leave with his family after receiving an ultimatum from his wife, and one had elected to stay, likely at the cost of his marriage. Of the remaining twenty-nine, seventeen wives and girlfriends had elected to stay as well, while the rest, all with children, had left town to stay with family.

Rand and Patrick both had tried to convince me to return to Prineville until it was all over, but I'd steadfastly refused. Rand and I were in this together, for better or worse. I'd talked to my parents only once since they'd shown up in town, but last night I'd called them to tell them that I loved them. I wouldn't give them any details, but they'd sensed my apprehension and that I was making my final goodbye's, just in case. Mom and I had cried as we spoke, and I hoped that Dad was comforting her as Rand was me, his gentle embrace providing some small solace. After I hung up, he'd held me a long time, saying nothing, allowing me to draw on his strength to fortify my own. He'd then taken me to bed, and though I'd desperately wanted him, it had only been four days since Carl beat the shit out of me and I was still sore, so he'd simply held until I fell asleep.

Now the Riders were arriving, and he was helping me with the names of his brothers, along with those of their wives and girlfriends. I was totally overwhelmed. Other than Rand, I knew only Vince, Tim, and Doug by name, none of the women, and my head was spinning with names I had no hope of remembering.

"Fair enough," Patrick replied, "but I still don't know what we're going to do with everyone."

"Hey... you made the offer," Rand teased.

"I know... but damn."

"Patrick," Brock said as he and Janene slowed to a stop. He shook Patrick's hand. "Thanks for doing this."

Patrick nodded and smiled. Every man in the BRMC had thanked him for opening the recycling yard to them, despite the danger.

"I don't want those assholes in town any more than you do. I'm too old to be mixing it up with them, but I can help herd them into a kill zone."

"Janene, right?" I asked. "You're bunking with Steph, Marla, and me in Rand's trailer."

"That's right," the small woman said. She was beautiful with her jet-black hair, worn long, and slightly exotic features. "You must be Hanna."

"That's me."

"I'm really sorry about your son, and what happened to you. Thanks for giving us the heads up. Brock said if it weren't for you, we'd be totally fucked."

I smiled, finding the use of the word 'fuck' from such a small woman somehow funny. "Uh... you're welcome, I guess." Not every woman had thanked me, but most did, and I found all the gratitude slightly uncomfortable.

"Where am I?" Brock asked.

"We," Rand said with a sigh, "are sleeping in a semi-trailer out in the yard. I pulled it out with the loader this morning. Chuck and Will are sweeping it out now. We're going to bunk the men there and save my trailer and the house for the ladies. It's going to be crowded, and not very comfortable, but at least it'll be dark during the day so we can sleep."

"Why not in that building?" Brock asked, nodding to the warehouse and shop.

"That's the kitchen and dining room. We have some camp stoves set up in there to cook on, then later I'm going to have the guys help me pull seats out of some of these wrecks to sit on."

"I supposed it could be worse. We could be sleeping on the ground."

Rand chuckled. "Yeah, at least the trailer will keep the rain off. Come on, I'll show you. Hanna, you want—"

"Already on it," I said. "This way, Janey," I said with jerk of my head, leading her to Rand's trailer.

"It's Janene," she said as she fell into step beside me.

"Oh. Sorry."

"Don't worry about it," she said with a smile. "It took me weeks to learn everyone's name."

"Okay, everyone listen up!" Doug called later that evening. "First, I want to thank Patrick for his hospitality on such short notice." Rand started clapping and everyone joined in. "I know this situation sucks, but we're just going to have to deal with it until this is resolved, one way or the other." A stunningly beautiful woman handed him a hubcap full of slips of paper. "Vince, Tim, and I sat down and worked out a plan. Everyone pick a slip of paper. That will be your watch. We're going to be running three watches, one on, two off. Ladies, you'll be on the same watch as your man. While he's on watch, you're responsible for food prep, okay? Try to make sure there's always food and coffee available." He paused for a moment as he fluffed the paper in the hubcap before extending it to the woman. "Ladies, if you'll come draw a number."

All seventeen of us came up and drew numbers. I showed Rand my number, a two, as I rejoined him. "That means we're on three to eleven. You okay with that?" he asked.

I nodded. "Yeah. I'm glad I didn't pick the graveyard watch."

"Okay," Doug called as the last woman, Stephanie I remembered because she was older than the rest of us, and Doug's wife, drew her number. "Those with a one?" Three hands went up. "Two?" I raised my hand, along with five others. His face wrinkled. "All eight of you have a three?" The woman nodded.

After a little confusion it was decided that the eight women with a three would draw again, but this time there were only three ones, and six threes to choose from, to ensure three of the women ended up first watch.

After the women were distributed, the rest of the men drew their positions, then the horse trading began, but soon enough the assignments were settled, and people adjusted their sleeping assignments while those of us on the second watch scrambled to start food preparation.

"Need some help?" the woman that had held the hubcap asked as I stood flipping burgers.

"No, thank you..." I grimaced trying to recall the woman's name.

"Marla."

"Sorry. Marla."

"It's okay. You have a lot of new names to remember, but I only have one. How are you holding up?"

"Okay."

"Really? I know how I'd feel if my little girl were kidnapped. I'd be going crazy."

"You have kids?"

"Yeah. One. Breanna. She's seven. She's staying with Vince's parents until this is all over."

"Why didn't you go too?"

"Because I didn't want to leave Vince. If something were to happen to him and I weren't here..." she shuddered. "I don't even want to think about it."

"Aren't you worried Breanna could lose both her parents?"

"Yeah, but what if me being here could have prevented her from losing either?"

I turned my attention back to the burgers. "I guess I can see your point."

"What about you? Why're you here? This isn't your fight."

"It's my only connection to Garrett. I'm afraid if I don't get him back now, I never will."

"Garrett, that's your son?"

I nodded. "He's five."

She grimaced. "And the father did that to you?"

"Yeah. I should have known better," I said with a shrug.

"May I?" she asked reaching for my face. "I'm a nurse."

"I guess."

She touched me gently. "You may have a tiny scar on your forehead, but it will hardly be noticeable."

"This is no worse than what he's done before. The only thing that still really hurts are my ribs."

"Your ribs?"

"Yeah. He kicked the shit out of me, right in the ribs."

"Let me see," she said, her tone making it clear it wasn't a request.

I grimaced as I pulled my shirt up, the tugging on my shirt and the lifting of my arms causing a sudden stab of pain. At the bottom of my ribcage was an ugly bruise, an area the size of my two spread hands that was a sickly combination of blue, purple, yellow, and green.

Marla hissed through her teeth. "Any trouble breathing? Take a deep breath for me."

"No," I replied before I did as commanded, my face crinkling with discomfort.

"Breathe out." I did, and it appeared Marla was listening for something. "I'm sorry, but this is going to hurt." She probed the area, grimacing with sympathy as I gasped and hissing in pain. "I don't feel anything broken, but you probably should get some x-rays just in case."

"I'll be okay," I murmured as I lowered my shirt and turned my attention back to the burgers. "Like I said, nothing he hasn't done before."

Her face hardened. "If you see Carl again, you point him out to Vince. I think he'll want to have a few harsh words with him."

I smiled. "He'll have to wait in line behind Rand, I think."

"I don't understand men that get a thrill from beating up a woman. If Vince tried that with me, he'd wake up dead one morning, and he knows it."

I snickered and then grimaced. "Don't make me laugh. It hurts."

She nodded. "Pain's good. It lets you know you're still alive."

It felt weird cooking breakfast at ten o'clock at night, but we agreed that we'd cook breakfast for the third watch so the women could get a hot meal with their husbands and boyfriends at least once a day. I was on toast detail, running the assembly line of two, four-slice toasters, and butter.

Third watch was milling around, getting coffee and muttering their thanks. They were groggy, their sleep schedule all messed up, and I didn't envy them tonight. The amount of coffee that was going to be consumed this first night would probably cause a bump in Folgers' stock price. As soon as the eggs were ready, we began to serve, sleepy men and women passing in front us as we loaded plates with eggs, bacon, toast, and fruit.

I was tired but satisfied. I'd bonded with Marla, Steph, Rachel, Jenny, and Alison as we scurried around, working out a system to make meal preparation as fast and easy as possible. After everyone was served, Alison and I were in Rand's trailer, washing pans, getting them ready for third watch to use, when I heard the first plinks of rain on the roof.

"I had no idea Rand lived in a camper," Alison said, looking up at the low ceiling as she dried a pan.

"You didn't know?"

"No. When I heard he lived in a trailer, I though he meant a mobile home."

"He said he didn't need much."

She glanced around. "Good thing."

"It's... cozy."

She snickered. "Yeah, you could say that. Especially with four of us in here."

"Could be worse. Rand said the camper is designed to sleep six."

"Six! No way!"

I nodded. "Two in the bed, two on the couch, and the table folds down and converts to a bed as well."

She shook her head. "Thanks, but no thanks."

"At least we have beds, even if we do have to share."

Her smile slowly faded. "Yeah. I hope this is over sooner rather than later."

I nodded. "Me too. I don't know who I'm sharing a bed with, but I already know I'm not going to like it as much as I do with Rand."

She grinned. "Amen to that, sister."

The pans cleaned, Alison and I hurried from Rand's trailer back to the shop, Alison using the big skillet as a makeshift umbrella. Marla and the rest of the women were pulling the trash bags out of the garbage cans, tying them off, and putting in clean ones. As we finished policing the area, the men of second shift began to straggle in.

"How you doing?" Rand asked as he sauntered up behind me and pulled me backwards into his chest before kissing me on the back of the neck.

I sighed. "Okay, I guess. Tired. All the wives and girlfriends are really nice. They're so much different than the old ladies and club girls of the Orcas. Except for Leeda, I didn't care much for any of them, especially after Garrett was born. All they were interested in was partying, but everyone here seems so... normal. They told me a few stories, like how David and..." I paused, trying to remember the woman's name.

"Emily," he supplied.

"Yeah, Emily. Like David and Emily getting arrested for having sex on the beach, or you getting drunk and pissing on the police car, but—"

"I did not piss on a police car!" he protested. "I pissed in the bushes beside the police car."

"That's not how it was told to me," I said with a grin, "but as I was saying, it sounds like everyone has a good time, but you also have families and friends outside the club who you care about, and people seem to like and respect you. I couldn't believe we all didn't get arrested at the diner that morning. If that had been the Orcas, assuming they didn't end up shooting everyone, there's no way they wouldn't have been arrested. But the people in the diner stood up for you."

He shrugged. "We don't cause trouble and we help the police with the motorcyclists. Sometimes they'll listen to us when they won't listen to the cops. It works for everyone."

"See! That's what I'm talking about. The BRMC cares about more than their club."

"Why wouldn't we?"

I shrugged. "You should, but it's so different than my experience with the Orcas. I thought all clubs were like them, but yours isn't, and I'm glad."

He looked around but nobody was close. "It's too bad there are so many people around," he said softly.

"Why?"

"Because it's raining outside... and it's been a while."

I flashed hot with the memory. "I know. I'm sorry I've been such a bitch. I had no right taking out my fear and anger on you, and treating you like I did. You've been nothing but wonderful, kind, and caring."

"Don't forget studly. Oh, wait, that's me," Vince deadpanned as he walked past, picked up a few bacon scraps, and then wandered away again.

I broke into giggles then held my ribs. "Damn that hurts." I sighed. "Even if we were the only two people on earth, I couldn't do anything tonight. I still hurt too much."

"I know, and I was kidding."

I reached out and softly caressed his face. "I wish we could. I hate all those nights I wasted because—"

"Shhhh," he said, his finger touching my lips with gossamer lightness. "That's past."

"I know, but—"

"No buts. It's not important now. If I had to bear up under what you've had to deal with, I'd be a little bitchy, too."

My ribs still ached, and my face was a bruised mess, but my lips were much improved. "Kiss me?"

He leaned over, placed a hand behind my head, and gently brought my lips to his, kissing me with the barest brush. My lips were still a bit tender, but I wanted, and could take, a better kiss than that, so I pulled him more fully into the kiss.

"Hey you two! Get a room!" Vince called loudly from across the shop.

I slowly withdrew from the kiss, burning in embarrassment as Vince grinned with mischief, causing the other people to break into snickers.

It had been three days since we'd gone to ground in O'Neill Recycling, and nothing had happened. It was probably too much to hope the Orcas had given up and gone away, but things were peaceful. It was now six days until race day, and the BRMC was getting nervous. Two days before race day, they'd have to start setting up, and nearly everyone believed that would be when the Orcas would hit them.

Rand, Vince, and Tony were the only three that didn't agree, being of the opinion if the Orcas didn't hit them before, they'd let the race proceed. Their reasoning was if the Orcas screwed with the race, they stood the very real chance of losing the very thing they wanted. I could see either scenario playing out, but if I had to pick between the two, I'd have to side with Rand. Alex didn't have the reputation of being stupid, or sloppy, and starting a war on the eve of the race seemed like dumb idea to me.

Because nothing had happened, the Riders were getting lax. The men, especially, were being ground down by the hours and the stress. They could only stay hyper-vigilant for so long, and some were discussing resuming their jobs before returning to the yard at night for protection, reasoning that the Orcas probably wouldn't attack during the day.

We, the women, were doing what we could, but there was a limit to how much we could help. It was about nine, two hours until the end of Rand's watch, and Steph, Rachel, and I had brought sandwiches and drinks out to those on watch. I'd made sure Rand was my last stop. We were sitting in the back of a Dodge minivan, the open hatch keeping us dry and giving us a place to sit. It wasn't the most comfortable spot, but it was dry and better than standing.

"You sure you don't want a bite?" Rand asked, offering me his sandwich.

"No, but you can have a bite of mine if you want."

He chuckled. They were both turkey with Swiss. "No. That's okay. You eat it."

We sat in silence for a long moment, eating our sandwiches and sipping our sodas. "If the Orcas don't show up before the race, I'm going to have to leave."

"I know."

"I have to find Carl and Garrett." I looked at the ground.

I didn't want to leave. I'd really bonded with the club in the past three days. Nothing like being thrown into a crisis together to forge friendships, but Garrett had to be my priority.

"I understand," he said softly.

I wanted him to ask me to stay, or to come back, but he said nothing. I didn't love him, but I desperately wanted a chance to fall in love with him, and I wondered if he felt the same way about me. I'd been thinking about Patrick's words, about how he said he could see something in Rand, but Rand himself had made no mention, given no indication, he felt anything other than sympathy for me and Garrett.

It was the damned situation. We—Rand, the Bayport Riders Motorcycle Club, and myself—had been in crisis mode since I arrived. There'd been no chance to see if we had anything. Not enough time and certainly not enough normalcy.

I swallowed hard and decided to go for broke. "After I get Garrett back, and things get back to normal I'd... like to come back." I waited but he sat stiff, saying nothing, staring into space. My eyes began to well with tears. "Rand?"

"Shhh..." he hissed, waving me quiet. "Get in there," he whispered as he rose slowly to his feet.

"What?" I whispered in return.

He waved his hand at me again, indicating silence before he brought his lips close to my ear. "Get in the van and get down in the floor, between the seats. Don't move, and keep your head down no matter what."

My heart thudding in my chest I tucked myself into the space behind the rear seats as he reached up and slowly closed the hatch. I stared out of the dirty back window as he moved off in a crouch, his pistol in his hand.

"Oh shit, of shit, oh shit," I muttered as I scrambled over the rear seats and settled to the floor between the two middle seats, my sore ribs completely forgotten. "Please, please, please," I muttered, rocking softly, not sure what I was begging for.