Treasure Ch. 26-30

Rori followed the directions to the Manchester chapter of the Steel Brotherhood and was met at the gate by a prospect. "Have her put the motorcycle inside," a woman said from the door, and he opened the gate then ran over to the multi-bay garage attached to the warehouse-like building. She parked her baby in the back. As she got off and removed her helmet and chaps, the heavyset woman was on her. "Welcome, child. I'm Howler, I'm head of the Steel Ladies here. Three Tequila explained everything, you're safe here." She gave her a big hug and looked at the Prospect. "Fill her tank, wash it then cover her motorcycle with a sheet," she said as she led her away.

"Thank you for taking me in," she said.

"Rori, you should know by now that the Ladies will always take care of their own." She opened the door that led into the clubhouse; it was big, with a kitchen and bathrooms behind the long bar, pool tables and a bunch of booths and tables. She led her over to a table where three men were sitting over coffee and pancakes. "Rori, this is Bear, my old man and chapter President. His VP, Throttle, and his Master-At-Arms, Reaper."

The three men stood, and instead of the handshakes she expected, each of them pulled her into a quick hug. They all sat down, with Rori sitting between the Bear and Howler. The names fit; Bear was a huge man, barrel chested with long brown hair and beard. Throttle looked like a racer, he was thin but strong, and Reaper? He just looked dangerous. He had curly black hair to his broad shoulders and dark eyes. "Have you eaten yet?" She shook her head no. "PROSPECT! Bring another plate and some juice for the girl."

The President looked over at her. "When I talked to Mongo this morning, I told him I'd make sure you were taken care of. He was pretty shook up over what you told him, but I need to hear it for myself. What kind of trouble are you in, Rori?"

She had thought about how much she could say to him, and it was a little more than she expected. She started with her walk in the woods with her friend, how her friend was almost killed as they tried to take her and then they tried again at the hospital. "They called me Charlotte, said I belonged to them," she said as her food arrived. "I don't know why. I was adopted when I was one, I don't know who my birth parents were. I talked to my Mom, we had to get out of there and disappear. The Police Chief helped with the judge, we changed our names under victim protection laws, sold the house and most of our stuff, then moved to Orlando to start over. That's where I really started riding and painting, and I got involved with the Steel Ladies."

"I saw the photos of your mural, you're very talented," Bear said.

"Thank you. Anyway, we left town thinking all was good, but I noticed someone following us near Madison. I got a good look at the driver, then didn't see him again. He was a big guy, in his forties, and he stared at me for a second and I could feel his possessiveness. I thought maybe I made a mistake, that it was a coincidence."

"It can happen. Sometimes a guy sees a woman on the road and takes an interest," Throttle said.

"So we fast forward six months. A friend invites me to the Adirondacks where her family has a place for the Fourth of July. I ride up there with her and her father. We get to the house, we're meeting people, then he shows up."

"The guy from the road?"

"Yep. He stares at me, says 'Welcome home, Charlotte' and I panic." She looks down at her hands. "You should know I'm not all, um, there all the time. I have schizophrenia and blackouts, sometimes I can get out of control." Howler put her hand on Rori's in support. "I take meds to control it, but the shock of seeing him, I blacked out again. I woke up in a bedroom in the middle of the night, naked and alone. The door was locked. I couldn't trust any of them, not if they were associated with the ones who almost killed my best friend. I snuck out the window and got to my motorcycle. They'd placed a tracker on it. I took off, barely getting past a couple of guys on the road before I got off their property and drove away as fast as I could."

"That's when you called Mongo?" She nodded. "These people... did they do anything to you while you were out?"

She could see the anger in their eyes; she was one of the Ladies, even if she was a thousand miles from her home chapter, and they would kill anyone who touched her that way. "No... I don't think so. There wasn't any blood, and I'm not sore... you know." Howler pulled her into a hug, and she let go of the emotions she had been holding back. They let her cry as the Prospect came over with a piece of paper and handed it to Bear. He read it, then passed it to the others.

She finally stopped crying on Howler's shoulder and sat up again. Bear handed her the sheet, and she read it. It was a region-wide BOLO (Be On Lookout) for her; it had her Florida driver's license photo and a license plate and description of her Harley, down to the custom wolf art. She was listed as a runaway with a mental illness that may cause violent outbursts. She handed it to Howler, then looked at the men. "It's true, except the runaway part. Mongo is going to explain to my Mom why I had to leave. I can't let these people harm her to get to me."

"We're going to have to keep you under wraps for a while, let things cool down," Reaper said.

"Her motorcycle is distinctive, it's freaking amazing the art on it," Howler said. "Add in the Florida plates, and they'll see her."

Bear turned to Rori in full President-mode. "You have the protection of our Club, and run of the grounds. There is a guest room upstairs you can use as long as you wish, and we'll keep your bike hidden. We just need you to stay out of sight, at least until things cool off for you," he said. "Your ride stays parked and covered, you stay in the Clubhouse or the Garage, and do what we tell you to keep you safe."

"I understand," she said. "I won't be a problem, and I'll help out where I can. I can clean or something, I can pay for room and board."

"You're a guest, Rori," Howler said. "But, I'm sure I can come up with a few things to keep you busy if you're willing."

"Thank you."

"Finish your food, then my old lady will show you to your room and get you settled," Bear said. "Reaper, send out a text to the patched members, church at six tonight to talk about all this. In the meantime, pass the word, nobody is to talk about Rori with anyone who is outside the Club. Got it?" They all nodded. "Now you've got my curiosity up, I gotta go see this bike. Do you mind, Rori?"

"Not at all. The mural was a stretch for me with its size, I do most of my work at normal painting size, but it was fun to customize my Harley that way."

"I gotta see it too," Throttle said.

"Why don't we all go, I have to grab my bag," Rori said. "I had a big breakfast so I'm pretty much done anyway." The five got up, and the Prospect followed them out along with a couple more members who had overheard what was going on. Her Harley was in the back corner, and when she pulled the sheet back there were whistles.

"Holy shit, that's some nice work," Bear said. The men walked around it, taking in the detail of the custom paint. "It's not airbrushed," he said.

"I haven't learned airbrushing, that's all done with brushes," she said. "Acrylics, then four spray clearcoat layers to protect it."

"Damn." He looked at the prospect. "Make sure it's clean and don't scratch it," he told him as he unhooked her bag and handed it to her. "If you want to do any work while you are here, I want to be first in line."

"Second," Howler said. "She's a Steel Lady, and I saw her first."

Rori just blushed. "I don't have any of my supplies, hell, I barely have any clothes."

Howler took her hand and led her off. "That's why they have the Internet. I can order whatever you need, and have it shipped to me here."

"I couldn't have you pay for that, I have my own money!"

"We'll talk later, but custom paint jobs are not cheap. It's reasonable for us to buy the supplies you need and pay you for your work. I know you'd prefer to buy your own stuff, but Bear is right, you can't be seen out there. Just relax and let us take care of things." She took her back through the Clubhouse to a set of stairs. The upstairs of the Club had the President's office, a big conference room, and what looked like a couple dozen smaller rooms. "We have a dozen or so members who live here, but there's always rooms open for guys who get too drunk, or want to.. um..."

"Screw?"

"Yep. I forgot this isn't your first Clubhouse, but I'll rip the nuts off any man who tries anything. The Club will know you are sixteen and under our protection. No one will bother you." She stopped at a room, it had the key in the door still and she pulled it out and handed it to Rori. "The only extra key is in my old man's safe in his office. You'll be fine." The door opened to a small studio apartment; it had a queen-sized bed, a couch and TV, a table with two chairs and a small dinette with a mini refrigerator and microwave. "It has its own bathroom and shower, cable TV too. Do you have a computer?"

"No, I left my phone behind and my computer's still at home."

"Probably for the best. If someone is after you, they'll be monitoring social media and computer use to try and track you down."

She unpacked the few things she had in her bag into the drawers under the wall-mounted TV and put her things on the small counter in the bathroom. She was pleased, it was clean and livable, not at all what you might expect at a biker club. "It's very nice, thank you."

"Come on, you're going to need some clothes and things, so let's go to the office and order them." She followed her down to the President's office where she got onto his computer and logged onto the Walmart site. "Just pick what you need, we'll send a Prospect to pick it up. Make sure you have enough clothes for a week or so." She took twenty minutes to pick out what she needed, then checked their art supplies and ordered some more stuff. Not everything was in stock, but they had a ship to store option available. The rest she would have to order from an art supply store.

There was still plenty of time, so Howler took her on a tour. There were laundry machines, an icemaker and a Coke machine at the end of the hallway, just like a hotel. Downstairs they went into the kitchen, and she showed Rori where the sandwich supplies and stuff were kept if she got hungry. "We have a Club member who opens the kitchen for lunch and dinner, but breakfasts are on your own."

"How do you pay for it?"

"He just keeps track of what people eat and we settle up at the end of the month." She added her name, King, to the bottom of the list.

"Good, I'd feel better if I pay for my own food. Don't worry, I've got enough money," she said.

"I'm sure you do. Now, if you want to work off that burger, you head to the basement." They went down the stairs and it opened up into a big open space. There were treadmills, elliptical machines, free weights and two boxing rings plus an area with wrestling mats on the walls and floor. One young man was weightlifting while a bigger man was working the heavy bag near the ring. "The boys love to work out and fight, and with the winters we have, this gets a lot of use."

"Oh, I'm going to use it too. I need to keep up my Mixed Martial Arts."

"You fight?"

"Yep. Started in the spring and got hooked."

She led her back to the stairs. "Well, we've got all kinds of fighters in the Club. Boxing, wrestling, karate, MMA, even Muay Thai and Krav Maga. I'm sure they'd help you work out and learn, but I'm not sure they should spar with you. You're just a tiny thing," she said with a look of worry.

"True, but I'm fast and have stamina. I fought guys twice my size at the Academy in Orlando." She paused as she got back to the main floor. "I think I'm going to change and go work out, I could use it."

"That's fine, honey. The kitchen opens at five, they've got church at six so come down just before then and you can meet all the ladies while the guys are talking." She smiled and gave her a hug. "You're going to be fine, Rori. We won't let anything happen to you."

She hugged her back. "So what's the story with your name?"

She blushed. "Bear's got a lot of stamina, and people say I sound like a bloodhound on a scent when we're doing it," she said.

"I had to ask," she said as she headed up the stairs.

Ch. 27

The Battle of the Coral See, as the morning encounter was soon named, was instant legend among the Packs. Unlike the World War II battle that was the first in history solely between aircraft carrier groups, Coral's decisive victory was against a numerically superior force and she came out unscathed. The video spread quickly, reaching every Pack before the three men were even released from the Infirmary.

The cadets were being treated like a military boot camp; the Council was breaking them down and building them up the right way. She could feel them all watching her as she stood with the other instructors, dressed in running shorts, sports bra, loose T-shirt and runners with low socks. She held herself above them all, her eyes showing only disdain for the ones who were still here. She looked at each of them, her wolf forward and challenging them. Were they hiding their true feelings for women as those three men had done?

Beta Carlson walked in front of the assembled instructors and looked out at the thirty-eight men, from ten to thirty, who formed his charge. Three were still in the infirmary. "It has come to my attention that you men have too much free time in the morning," he said with an evil grin. "If you have time enough to get in trouble, you have time to run. And I just LOVE running." The cadets were rolling their eyes, knowing whatever was coming would suck. "Instructor Nygaard."

Coral stepped forward two paces and stood at attention. "YES BETA."

"Do you love running?"

"I FUCKING LOVE IT, BETA."

"Excellent! Would you mind taking these men out for a run?"

"Not at all, Beta."

"They're all yours." He and the other instructors walked off, leaving her alone with them. The men were split into three squads, three lines in front of her. She walked in front of each man, evaluating each of them with her wolf. Her dominance out, she felt for theirs, and most submitted easily. The ones that fought would learn soon enough.

"We'll take it easy this morning, just ten miles or so," she said as she walked to the front. "This is an evaluation. Passing time for the platoon is ninety minutes. Riiight, FACE! Forward, MARCH! Doubletime, HUH!" She started the stopwatch ran alongside them, leading them to the road that circled from the Pack House to the Lake and the entrance road. It was an easy start, and she settled them into an eight-minute-mile pace. "Jacobs," she yelled to the future Beta who was the most dominant of the wolves in the platoon, "Set the pace."

The first few miles were easy, but she reminded Jacobs of the time requirement as they reached the uphill portions of the course. She ran alongside the men, shouting out encouragement or correction as needed.

By eight miles, students were starting to drop out of the ranks as they couldn't take the pace anymore. She sent messages to the other instructors, they would be collected and pushed to continue once the formation was out of sight, but she needed to see how the men would react. It was as she had feared; their leader didn't care that men were dropping out, he was going to finish in time and the others felt the same. "This is going to be tougher than I thought," she sent to Beta Carlson. "There is no cohesion."

"They need to learn that a Pack only moves as fast as the weakest member. I trust you can help them learn?"

"Absolutely." She called out the split time, and the men quickened the pace until they were at a sprint for the last half mile. By the time they returned to the field where Beta Carlson was waiting, the formation had completely broken down. The Beta called out the finish times, and the ones that came in under ninety minutes stood around looking happy.

"FORM UP," Coral yelled. Jacobs took his place at the front right, and the men fell into their normal spots, leaving openings for the men who had started to trickle in. "YOU MEN FAILED," she said as she walked in front of them, not even winded by the easy run.

"I finished three minutes under the passing time," Jacobs said, looking over at her. His eyes filled with lust as he took in her body, sweat causing the T-shirt to cling to her. He was one of the ones she was going to have trouble with, and it was starting already.

She got up in his face. "The passing time for the PLATOON was ninety minutes. Where the fuck is the rest of your PLATOON, Jacobs?" His face dropped, as did most of the men she could see nearby. "YOU set the pace. YOU left your men behind, and the rest of you didn't do a thing to help them out." She looked back at the trail where the instructors were pushing some men to finish. "You men are going to learn it's about the Pack, not YOU. Get your formation together and go back and pick up the stragglers."

She watched as Jacobs formed them up and ran them back down the trail. "How long do you think it will take them to figure it out?"

"These men are stubborn. Alpha Todd despised weakness, he taught his men to fight for position and take advantage of those below them. It won't change quickly."

"Can I have them every morning at five? That gives them enough time to shower and change before breakfast."

"That sounds like a wonderful idea," he said as the formation came back into sight. "They have classroom next, meet me in the combat rings for your evaluation," he said. "This assignment is more than just helping these men. It's a time for you to learn and grow in your fighting and your leadership."

"Who is doing the evaluation?"

"Me. No pressure, though. All the other Instructors and the Council will be watching."

"Good. Then I'll only need to do this once." He laughed as they walked towards the training facility.

--

Rori changed into her workout gear and slipped down the stairway to the basement. Walking in, the same two men were in there, one was still on the weights while the other was on the speed bag. She warmed up with the jumprope, then went to the wall and picked out the smallest pair of gloves she could find. "You fight," the man on the speed bag said, a little shocked as he saw her start to punch and kick the heavy bag.

"I do, I started doing MMA a few months ago and got hooked. I'm Rori."

The man stopped and came over, bumping fists with her. "Taco," he said. He was about twenty-five, and looked to be a middleweight. His muscles were well-defined on his five-foot-ten height. "I box, at least when I can find a sparring partner. Everyone except Bear, who's just too big for me, and Reaper, who's too damn scary, is tired of getting beat."

"I'm up for a spar," she said.

He looked at her, she was probably 75 pounds lighter than him and he would have a big advantage in reach. "You sure?"

"I'm tougher than I look." He looked reluctant. "Look, it's just a spar. I'll wear headgear and get a workout in, I need to work on my boxing and defense anyway."

"You're on, Rori." They went to the wall, where they both put on the protective headgear. "Hey Smoke, give us a hand?" The guy put the weights away and came over, he was a black man, about twenty, and had abs you could open a beer bottle with. He helped them put on the heavier boxing gloves and volunteered to referee.

"Three minute rounds, keep it clean, break if I tell you," he told them in the ring. "Box." They started to circle each other, and Taco sent a few jabs her way without much behind them. Rori smiled, they always underestimated her, and she loved the look they got when they realized they were in a cage with a wildcat. She was light on her feet, easily moving away, and when he overextended his jab she was ready.