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  Wind Riding

  Copyright © 2014 Angelica Siren

  All rights reserved.

  This book is dedicated to independent authors and all readers of independent authors. Without your support, and the support of my friends and family, this book would have never been possible.

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  "Tina - GET DOWN!!"

  I bolted over to the side of the van. Bullet holes were already starting to make the side of it look like Swiss cheese. The paintjob that Kevin had done - with that awesome panther - was already marred beyond belief. I knew that when we got it back to the garage - if we got it back to the garage - Kevin would be furious. My boyfriend was lying dead in a widening pool of blood and yet that grease monkey would be more pissed about the van. In the center of a firefight in the middle of the desert - yeah, that's the perfect time to worry about what an asshole your mechanic is.

  Nitty was making his way over to where I was crouched beside the van, firing shots wildly to cover himself as he went. I couldn't hear it over the noise but I could imagine the pitiful clicking sound his gun made as it went empty and he dove for cover next to me.

  "Shit shit shit!" he roared at nobody in particular - certainly not me. It hadn't been my fault that the deal went all wrong. I was just along for the ride. Trevor said it was going to be a simple exchange. We had the money and they had the shipment from Bolivia. Except there was no shipment. Instead of a simple deal we found ourselves outnumbered two to one with our fearless leader lying dead on the sand. I was just a tourist here. Trevor said he wanted me to see the mesa at sunset. I've seen the damned mesa at sunset a thousand times. Why did I ride with him today of all days?

  Aside from Nitty and myself, only Ian and Needles were left. Ian was crouched behind his bike firing shots at the guys we'd come here to deal with. Needles was trying to get his gun unjammed. Everybody always laughed at Needles when he brought that big fucking gun out, strapped to his back like he was Rambo or something. Now it was no laughing matter. With Nitty out of ammo and me unarmed, Ian wouldn't last long and there'd be birds pecking at our bodies within a matter of hours.

  I knew I had to do something. I was still in shock, but mortal danger has a way of focusing your attention. Nitty slipped by me, heading for the cab of the van. I considered following him, but then I noticed the guy moving around Ian's side. Ian didn't see him coming and over the sound of gunfire he'd never hear the warning in time. I saw my chance and I took it.

  I dove out from behind the van and grabbed Trevor by the jacket, pulling him back behind the van just far enough to be out of their line of sight. It took long seconds to find it, and digging around in my dead boyfriend's vest is not exactly how I wanted to spend the morning, but I finally got my hands on that gun he was always waving around. Without bothering to check if the safety was on or if it was loaded, I rushed back to the other end of the van and took aim.

  The recoil knocked me back against the van and I managed to knock the mirror off the side in the process. I suppose that's just one more thing for Kevin to grouse over if we got out of this alive. In the split second it took to recover from firing the damn thing, I didn't have a chance to see my target drop, but there he was, lying motionless on the ground. I'd never killed a man before that. Shit, I'd never fired a gun at anything more threatening than a beer bottle. With the way I aimed, the beer bottle stood a pretty good chance of coming out intact, too. I couldn't believe what I'd done and so I just stared at the gun in my hand. My fingers were red with Trevor's blood. Whatever adrenaline rush had been pushing me forward was gone in an instant and I fell back against the van.

  Just then I saw Needles stand up looking like some kind of action hero. With that gun I guess "action hero" was just the look he was after. Still, he probably could have done without the theatrics. They didn't get us all killed that day, but it wouldn't surprise me if someday they did.

  Round after round dispensed from the barrel of his gun, causing an explosion of sand where the bullets hit. Through the cloud I couldn't see if he was actually hitting any of them, but I didn't like their chances. Theatrical or not, that gun is deadly serious. I barely had time to register Ian screaming at me from behind his bike.

  "Let's get the hell out of here!" he yelled, and I couldn't have been more glad to hear it. Behind me, I heard the van start up. I'm not sure what possessed me, but I didn't get in. Maybe it was nostalgia and maybe it was pure thriftiness, but I couldn't leave Trevor's bike behind. I ran back to his body and grabbed the keys from his pocket and then back over to his bike. Ian stared at me with a shocked expression on his face for a second before he realized what I was doing. As I turned the key I heard Ian and Needles starting their bikes as well. Needles was firing the big gun one handed. I couldn't believe the damn thing wasn't tearing his arm off. I made a note to thank him for all that time he spent in the gym when we got back.

  The chaos of the gunfight vanished into a cloud of dust behind us just as quickly as it began. One moment we were fighting for our lives and the next we seemed to be safe. Maybe Needles had taken them all down. Maybe they were too scared to chase us. Maybe they just didn't give a shit. Whatever the cause, they weren't coming after us. Not even a small part of me believed we were truly safe, but we knew we'd see home again.

  We made our way back to the highway and turned off in opposite directions. Needles motioned that he was going to follow Nitty in the van and Ian waved me along with him. I didn't need to hear their explanation. Just in case we were being followed, better to leave two sets of tracks. It's that kind of common sense wisdom that Trevor always seemed to lack. He couldn't see a dirty trick when it was right in front of him. I guess that's how he ended up laying back there on the sand.

  Ian and I were riding north towards Black Canyon City while the others headed back into Phoenix. We were going in the wrong direction to get home, but I knew it was better this way. Besides, I felt safer heading north. If they were coming after us, they had to figure we'd be heading home. Nitty and Needles would rally the troops back at the garage and tell them what happened. Ian and I could afford to lay low for a little while.

  We rode in silence. When you're used to the way bikes sound, it's not so hard to talk to one another while you ride. Still, it didn't seem like there was much to say. Trevor and Ian had grown up together. I'd only known him a few months, but we'd been living together all the same. With as close as we both were to Trevor, we knew that his death was his own fault. There was nothing any of us could have done to save him, but if he'd had two brain cells to rub together, he would have smelled that trap long before the Wind Riders MC ever showed up to do the trade. What was he thinking bringing that kind of money out to the desert to deal with guys he'd never met before? He swore up and down that they were on the level, but he never was a good judge of character.

  Even though I was sad to lose Trevor - of course I was - I was more concerned for Ian. The two of them had been inseparable since they were eight years old. After almost twenty years of riding together, partying together and living life together, they were about as close as two guys can get. Compared to them, I was just a moth flying near a candle. My concern for Ian ran more than just skin deep though. I'd met Trevor in a bar, but it could have just as easily been his second in command. Ever since that night, Trevor had been on me 24/7. I think he felt like if he didn't spend every waking moment asserting his masculinity, I might notice that there were other guys around who were better looking and a lot more capable than he was.

  It wasn't that I didn't notice. Trust me, I noticed. It was just too awkward. The MC was Trevor's territory. I knew well enough to realize that dumping him for Ian would only cause trouble. I didn't even know if Ian was interested in me. Sometimes I caught him in a linger
ing glance, but that could just be because I was usually the only woman around. Maybe he caught me glancing as well, but if he did he never said anything. I had buried my lingering attraction to him down deep, waiting for the day when things were different. Morbid as it might sound, I couldn't help but think that today was the day.

  I don't want you to think that I was thinking of jumping from one biker to the next, less than an hour after the first one had been shot dead in the desert. It wasn't like that. The way I saw it, my relationship with Trevor had been dead for weeks. I'd grown to despise so many things about him. His cocky little walk that he copied from a TV character. His wispy mustache that, even as a grown man of 30, he could never develop into anything that would have looked out of place at a high school prom. I even hated the way he rode his bike. He was too cautious. When I met him, he seemed like a dangerous biker with an axe to grind against the whole world. Being the angry young woman that I thought I was, I couldn't help but be attracted to someone like that.

  It was all an act, though. Trevor was just full of himself and angry at the world for not recognizing how awesome he was. If he'd actually had the balls to stand up and make the world notice him, he might have been worth something. As it stands, I'd been looking for a way out for weeks. I never expected to find it like this.

  Ian was another story. I'd spent enough time around him to realize that he was one of those guys who gives you just what he claims. He never said he was going to rule the world, but when you needed help, he was always there. I had to feel a little bit smug at finally being given the chance to help him out. I'd saved his life back there in the desert, though I could barely remember what instinct had driven me to do such a thing. That kind of act might make you feel superior to someone, but with Ian I barely felt like I was sitting on his level. He was a real man in all the ways Trevor couldn't be. He was the one I wanted, though it took a disaster like this for me to admit it to myself.

  The motorcycle club had been Trevor's idea. It was half baked like a lot of his ideas, but he was charming in his own way and people went along with it. He wanted to do like he saw on TV - riding around, being criminals and saying all the time how free he felt. He talked the talk, but this was the first time the Wind Riders have ever had to face the consequences of the lifestyle. For the past three years, they'd been riding around and acting tough. When it came down to it though, they didn't have the first clue about how to actually get involved in anything further outside the law than some minor vandalism. This deal was supposed to be how the club was going to break into the big time, or so Trevor thought. I guess the big time was just a bit too big.

  I noticed Ian motioning to me and pointing us towards a truck stop. It was strange to think about eating at a time like this, but I suppose breakfast really is the most important meal of the day. As we rode up I could see that there was only one truck in the lot. That was probably for the best. If someone came asking questions later, we didn't want a lot of people knowing that we'd been in the area that morning. We pulled in on the far side of the truck so that the bikes couldn't be seen from the highway and parked.

  "You alright?" Ian asked as I stepped off the bike that, I suppose, belonged to me now.

  It took me a moment to find an answer for his question, simple as it was.

  "Yeah," I told him, "I'm alright. I'm alright." I had to repeat myself for my own benefit. If I said it enough times, maybe I'd actually believe it. How can a person actually be alright after something like that? I'd seen my boyfriend killed, but perhaps even more haunting - I'd done some killing of my own. I wasn't supposed to be killing anyone today. Nobody was. I was supposed to be looking at the mesa and being bored out of my skull. Whatever else the morning had been, it wasn't boring.

  Ian stepped over to me and gave me a hug. I don't think I've ever seen him hug someone before. I realized after only a moment that it wasn't entirely for my benefit. He'd just seen his best friend murdered. What was I supposed to do? I held on tight and hoped that would say all the things I couldn't say with words. In his arms my armor against the emotion of what had just happened began to fall apart. I felt tears drifting silently from my eyes, but I kept myself from sobbing. There are just some things I won't do, even at a time like this.

  Before it got weird, we pulled apart and I could see that there were stains of tears below his eyes as well. I'd never thought to see Ian like this. He was every bit a man's man. He was cool and confident and he spent plenty of time working out. The only reason that Trevor was the leader, and not Ian, is because Trevor had the idea in the first place. Ian was more the quiet type. He did what needed to be done to support his friends. In some ways I guess he was predestined to be the perfect second in command in any situation.

  We nodded at one another in mutual understanding and headed into the truck stop. The place was nearly deserted. In a corner booth, the driver of the rig outside was enjoying a cup of coffee and a tall stack of pancakes. We sat on the other end of the restaurant and ordered some food. If there's one thing that can help you cope with disaster, it's breakfast food. The coffee was strong and freshly brewed, and when our food came it was piping hot. People like to rag on small town restaurants for being low quality, but when the only thing standing between you and poverty is how well you cook your eggs, you can be damn well sure that the eggs are gonna be good.

  Once we had some food in our bellies, it finally became time to talk. We had to figure out what to do about everything. The full accounting of all the losses we'd suffered hadn't really been done yet.

  "Okay," Ian started, "Trevor's gone. The money's gone. The van's shot to hell. Those guys might be looking for us. Does that just about cover it?"

  "Yeah," I said, "I think that's about the state of things."

  "Well," he continued, "As much as it hurts, losing Trevor isn't as bad as losing that money. He borrowed heavily to get it. We were supposed to make a small fortune selling what we got from those cartel guys, but that's blown to hell now. Someone's got to come up with a plan."

  "Why don't you guys all just split?" I questioned. "Just go your separate ways. Trevor's the one who borrowed the money."

  "It's not going to work out like that," he said, "The guys he borrowed from know who we are. The ones out in the desert do, too. And don't go saying 'you guys', Tina - you're in this too. I can't thank you enough for saving me back there, but you took one of them down. They saw your face. People talk."

  "Well someone's going to have to step up then," I told him. "Trevor might have made some stupid decisions but he was still your leader. Who's going to lead the MC now? Nitty? Fat fucking chance of that. Needles couldn't think his way out of a wet paper bag. We need someone who can make the right decision for a change."

  "What about you?"

  I just stared at him. Did he just say what I think he said? Because it sounded like he was suggesting that I take over leadership of his motorcycle gang. I mean, I know how to ride and all, but there's a hell of a lot more to being a leader than looking good on a bike. Plus, there's a reason MCs don't let women join - let alone lead. The Wind Riders would be the laughing stock of the MC scene in Phoenix.

  "You're kidding right? Last I checked I wasn't even a member."

  "Fuck that, Tina," he said with a serious look on his face, "Trevor watched too much television. To him, we had to do just like those guys did and follow the same rules. But what's the point of that? This is supposed to be about being free, and that means we make our own rules. If the Wind Riders want a woman to be president, who the fuck is going to tell us we can't?"

  "Well," I said, "I'm not saying 'no', but do the Wind Riders want me? I mean, it's not just you and me. Nitty and Kevin aren't going to like it for sure. They're old school. They didn't learn the MC game by watching TV. Some of the other young guys might be on my side. Shit, are you really serious?"

  Ian reached out across the table and took my hand in his. I could feel the way his skin was warm against my own. "Tina," he said, staring into my e
yes, "I'm serious. You saved my life back there. As far as I'm concerned, you saved all our lives. If you'd been in charge, we'd never have ridden into that clusterfuck to begin with."

  I sat back against the booth and thought about what was happening. A day ago I was considering running away from all this. My relationship with Trevor was turning sour and my unsaid feelings for Ian were starting to get the best of me. I had figured my best option was just to leave both of them behind and start again new somewhere else. Now things were moving in a direction I never could have predicted. I was used to sitting on the sidelines watching this MC pretend to be tough. When it came time to actually man up, it seemed like the only sensible choice was a woman.

  "Okay," Ian said, "When we get back to the clubhouse, we've got to be all over this. They're going to be looking to me for which way the wind is blowing - no pun intended - and I'm going to tell them straight up that you're in charge now. I'll tell them what you did and, shit, I'll even tell them that Trevor wanted it this way. For all I know he might have. That motherfucker thought he was going to live forever, anyway."

  We paid for our food and went out to the parking lot. When I mounted the bike that used to be Trevor's, I felt oddly calm. Riding along the highway on the way here it was weird sensation. It was already feeling more comfortable, though. Somehow, my first step towards assuming leadership of the gang had to be convincing myself that the bike was mine now. Ian gave me a long look as I mentally prepared myself to ride back into town.

  "What?" I asked him.

  "You look good on that bike, Tina," he said. "You belong on that bike."

  I gave him a wide smile that said what words couldn't. I hadn't gotten many votes of confidence in my life. To tell the truth, I'd spent most of my 23 years being told that I wasn't going to amount to anything. I guess that's how girls like me end up with motorcycle clubs in the first place. I couldn't have told you then why Ian had such faith in me, but it was making me stronger already. I'd never lead anyone before, but the way he talked, I was Joan of Arc or something.