Treasure Ch 21 25

Rori stretched on the back patio of their condominium, getting ready for her morning run. She smiled as she loosened up her legs; moving to Florida had been good for a lot of things, but late afternoon exercising in the June heat was not one of them. As the humidity rose she started waking up before the sunrise, something she hated to do, but it was better than the alternative.

Wearing running shorts, a sports bra and a loose crop top, she jogged to the blacktop bike path that circled the big development they lived in and connected to other paths in the area. She started slow, jogging the quarter mile circle until she was behind the townhomes on the other side of her street. "Ready for sprint day," she asked with an evil grin as she saw Ashley come out the sliding door on the back of her house.

"Oh man, I'm going to die," she said. Breaking into a jog, she joined her friend on the path and they settled into their warmup. "Interval training kicks my ass. I can't believe you LIKE it."

"It's what keeps me faster than you," she said as her iPhone beeped. She took off at a dead sprint; the program would give them short sprints meant to go at full speed, then longer intervals where they slowed to a medium jog. Ashley groaned as she tried to keep up to her fleet-footed friend. Rori was shorter than her, only about five-foot-five compared to her five-foot-ten, but she was faster and in better shape.

The phone beeped again and Rori slowed to a jog, but since she was still twenty yards behind her friend, Ashley had to keep running a little longer. Of course, that meant her rest period was cut a little shorter, and it got worse and worse as the run continued until she begged Rori for mercy. "Stop, I can't do this anymore. How many miles have we done?"

Rori looked at the program on her phone. "Six miles, two to go. Tell you what, cut across here and I'll meet you at the road." Rori took off around the pond, a little over a mile path, while Ashley did a cooldown jog on the quarter-mile shortcut. She stretched while she waited for her to show up, then they jogged the last mile home.

Ashley flopped dramatically onto the chair on the patio behind her house. "Why do I let you do this to me," she said as she held the back of her hand to her forehead.

"So you don't tire out in the third round of our spars tonight," Rori said with a smirk. "See you tonight, at least in the octagon you can use your weight advantage."

"WEIGHT! OH, if I could get up I'd get you back for that," she said. "See you at five."

"Have fun at work," she said before she ran off. Ashley knew Rori would be running hard the rest of the way home, making up for the slower pace with her along. They weren't in the same class when it came to distance running, but they helped each other out. Ashley had introduced her to weightlifting and mixed martial arts, and together the two friends pushed each other to be better. She had quickly moved up in the ranks at the training center, and regularly gave women and men bigger than her fits with her quickness and reflexes.

Rori got home ten minutes later, doing her cooldown and stretching before going inside. "Hi Grandma," she said as she walked through the kitchen.

"Morning dear, how was the workout?"

Rori chugged a glass of water, then filled it again. "Good. Ashley almost puked during interval training."

Donna came in, already dressed for work at the clinic. "You know, honey, throwing up isn't the sign of a good workout."

"Getting choked out by Ashley isn't a sign of a good workout either," she said with a laugh. She ran up the stairs to her room, returning fifteen minutes later showered and changed into her painting clothes- an old T-shirt, spotted jeans and old canvas shoes. "Thanks," she said as Grandma handed her a plate of pancakes and bacon.

"How is the mural coming," Donna asked.

"I should finish it today," she replied. "I'd be done already if they didn't restrict me to weekdays between eight and four. I'll be seventeen soon, it's not like I can't handle myself around the club."

"I'm not sure the rules are there just for your protection, honey." Rori blushed, knowing that the club President had called her Mom after she had taken out the knee of a man who thought she was a young-looking sweetbutt. She had quickly taught him to keep his hands to himself. "It's a biker clubhouse, the last thing they need is to have a sixteen-year-old girl there if the cops show up to the party."

"Whatever." She looked at the calendar. "I'm going to grab something to eat with Ashley before training tonight, so I'll be home around ten." Her breakfast had disappeared quickly, and she kissed both of them before going out to put on her chaps, boots and motorcycle jacket. "Have a good day at work, Mom."

She put on her backpack, which had a clean set of clothes and her workout gear in it, then walked out to the garage. Her white 2016 Harley-Davidson 883 Sportster Superlow sat near the door, and she took a moment to admire it as the door opened up. The plain white motorcycle she had ordered was now custom-painted by her, and it was breathtaking. On the left side of the gas tank, the head of a rust-colored wolf in full sprint, wind through its fur and mouth partway open, was painted. On the right side, the same wolf was lying down on a rock outcropping, a larger grey, black and white wolf behind her. At the front, you could just see the herd of elk. It was her favorite painting, reproduced where it could advertise her skills. There were plenty of artists who could airbrush, but her work was striking for its detail and three-dimensional look. The fenders showed a pack of wolves, running full speed in single file down a forest trail.

She had bought the motorcycle within two days of arriving in Florida, right after she finished her motorcycle safety course and got her license. The bike was powerful, easy to handle, and fun to ride even in the sprawling city that was Orlando. Firing it up, she pulled out of the garage and onto the street towards the clubhouse of the Steel Brotherhood Motorcycle Club.

Pulling into the lot, the warehouse-like structure at the back had all the roll-up doors open to let it air out after last night's party. She backed her bike into the open space at the end, under the awning that provided protection from the sun and the afternoon thunderstorms. Leaving her leathers folded on her seat under her helmet, she walked into the cavernous space. "Hey Speedbump," she said to the big bartender with a killer mullet.

"Rori," he said with a smile. "You going to finish today?"

"Maybe. It depends on whether anyone threw beer on my work last night." She walked over towards the wall they had asked her to paint and she looked behind the green tarp that covered it up. "Looks good," she said.

"Yeah, the Pres laid down the law. He even stuck a prospect in front of it all night to make sure no one peeked." A couple of the prospects still cleaning up, otherwise the place was empty. Gaining membership in a traditional motorcycle club wasn't easy. You had to be vouched for by a member, then spend at least a year being a virtual slave to the members before you could get your patch. The Brothers weren't a One Percent club, the outlaw bikers, but they weren't that far from it.

Their women's affiliate, called the Steel Ladies, had actually brought Rori in to meet the Club members. A few of them saw her bike, talked to her about her custom art, and made some introductions. She'd ridden with the women and loved being with them, but couldn't become a full member of the Ladies until the age of eighteen. In the meantime, they gave her a cut with a Steel Ladies Junior patch and a T-Shirt. The Ladies were girlfriends and wives of the male members, as the Club remained male-only in keeping with MC traditions.

Despite her age, the Club accepted her like she was one of their daughters. As such, Rori was invited to the less rowdy parties and events and the older members made sure she stayed safe. She spent a lot of time with them, and really enjoyed their company. They had chapters all over the eastern half of the United States and into Canada.

Rori removed the tarp and rolled the portable scaffold closer before she started putting paint on her palette. The mural she'd been working on for the last three weeks was close to being done, but the toughest parts remained- getting the faces of the five men just right. The bottom four feet of the wall was paneled with a beveled chair rail, and the rest was painted. The scene was a beach highway, and the five men on motorcycles in formation were all Club members who had died. They all were on the left side of the painting, leaving room for more in the future.

She was so focused on her work that she didn't even notice the five men who came and sat at the table behind her. She jumped a little when she turned around and the President waved her over. "Come on, take a break," Mongo said. "We got you your favorite."

A double-cheeseburger with extra bacon and fries was sitting at the empty space, and she quickly cleaned her brushes and palette to join them. "It looks just like him," Tripod said. "You're damn good."

"Thanks," she said to the Vice President before she took a big bite of the burger. "I should finish in a couple hours."

"That's perfect," the President said. "Tomorrow night we're having a big party, the Regional President will be down along with representatives from a dozen other Chapters. I'd like to unveil the mural then, if you're all right with it."

"No problem, anytime after four you can do it. I'd like to get a few photos of it this afternoon. I need it for my portfolio for my art class." Rori had started taking classes at the University of Central Florida and was accepted to start full-time as an Art major in the fall.

"Eight o'clock tomorrow, tell your Mom and your Grandmother to come. We'll do a reveal, toast the memory of the men, and send you home before the debauchery gets too bad." She shook her head, they always sent her home early! "It's great work, and the other chapter Presidents are going to be damn jealous of your work."

At three, the men joined her and Speedbump took some pictures with her digital camera as they all stood in front of the six by twenty-foot long memorial wall. They covered it with the tarp, sealing the edges against prying eyes until the reveal. The afternoon thunderstorms were rolling through, so she sat at the bar with them until it was time to go.

She met Ashley at the mall, where they did some shopping before eating at their favorite Mexican restaurant. The place was packed on Thursday night, and then they drove separately to the Mixed Martial Arts club for their lessons. "What is on the training schedule tonight," Rori said as they walked in.

"Get you gi on, it's jujitsu time," the instructor at the desk said.

"Great," she replied. "More grappling against people heavier than me."

"Revenge is sweet," Ashley said. "You can't run away when I've got you pinned to the mat." It was going to be a long night.

His father pulled him back after they had said our goodbyes. "Keep yourself safe over there," he said. "And whatever you do, keep Coral from killing any of them."

Chase looked over at my sister, who was loading her gear into the saddlebags of her Harley Fat Boy. "Really Dad? You can't just Alpha command her?"

"I wish it was that easy, but you know how she is." Coral was my twin, and right now the favorite to take over as Pack Gamma, the trainer of the Warriors. Smart, tough and deadly, she had fought with tooth and claw for the respect of our Pack and others. She was more dominant than Chase, and she learned to fight while he was off at college. Chase had the genes of an Alpha, and held a size and strength advantage over her, but she would beat him like a drum in the sparring circle. He preferred to sit back and wait to patch up all the ones who thought fighting a 'girl' is going to be easy.

Chase's future was elsewhere. His father Will was only 225 years old, still in his prime. He had found his mate Colletta when he was in his seventies. The oldest brother and Alpha heir, Sawyer, was only 132. The middle brother, Carson, was 87 and slated to be his Beta. Coral and Chase were only twenty-four; he got the brains and she got the dominant streak. "You know I'll be in the clinic, not the training fields. I'll keep track of the injured cadets she sends me," he said with a laugh.

"Do what you can, son. I want both of you to take advantage of this; you represent our Pack well, you learn all you can, and search for your mates. The Council is counting on us to help, and we will do our best." The Bitterroot Academy had expanded beyond its original charter, and now included wolves sent from other Packs if they needed an attitude adjustment. There were more of those than you might have thought, as the Council found during their Pack inspections.

Coral would be staying a year as a combat instructor for the Academy. Chase couldn't wait to see the males who saw women as playthings getting their asses handed to them by a girl. He promised his brothers he would send them videos of her kicking ass as she established herself.

He was going to work at the Clinic for the summer, where in between broken bones Chase would be dealing with the psychological damage left behind by Alpha Todd's reign. It was a new area for Pack Doctors, what he aspired to be, and only a few people had experience with abused wolves. He was lucky enough to get to work with one for eight weeks before his last year of medical school.

"Come on, Chase, daylight's wasting," Coral teased as she fired up her motorcycle.

"I love you, Dad. We'll be fine." He hugged his Mom goodbye and got into the Ford Explorer he was taking, because one of them had to be logical and have room for the luggage and supplies. He followed her out the driveway and to the road that would take them through the Cascade Range and east to the former home of a large Pack.

Ch. 22

Ashley walked out of Rori's bathroom, the packet of pills in her pocket. When she had gotten close enough to Rori to start spending time at her house, she had taken pictures of her medicine cabinet and texted them to her father. He passed them to Alpha Martin and the Pack Doctor. They were shocked at what she was taking and agreed that they should do something before the stupid humans permanently harmed her wolf. The Pack Doctor made up placebos to match the pills she was prescribed, and Ashley had just switched them out.

"How do I look," she asked. "I'm not sure what biker gangs expect for clothing." She twirled around, showing her Daisy Duke shorts as he twirled on her low side-zip boots. The Orlando Mixed Martial Arts Academy T-shirt was tied below her breasts, exposing her six-pack.

"Damn girl, you'll be fighting them off." Rori was sitting on the bed, wearing a figure-hugging pair of jeans, ankle boots and her Club t-shirt. Her red hair was braided back. "You sure you want to head there in your crotch rocket?"

"I'm a tough chick, I can handle the comments," she said. The Club was full of riders of big American steel, mostly Harleys, but some Indian or Victory motorcycles were mixed in. Her Kawasaki Ninja 650 would stick out like a sore thumb in the lot.

"Just don't challenge any of them to a race, I don't think they could handle losing to you." She laughed as Ashley flopped down on the bed next to her. "Thanks for coming."

"I wouldn't miss it. Walking in with me isn't as bad on your reputation as coming with your Mom and Grandma."

Rori laughed. "They were invited, and they won't stay long. At least I don't think they will. Mom hasn't been on a motorcycle since Dad died." She had told them her Dad was killed by a drunk driver, which was true, but Ashley knew the truth she was hiding. "At least you get to stick around if you want, since you're eighteen."

"Yeah, well, your Mom can make sure you get to bed on time." Rori smacked her with a pillow as she got up. "Come on, we need to go."

Rori and Ashley parked her motorcycles at the end of the lot, while her Mom parked out on the street. By the time they got to the door, Rori was already surrounded by people she then introduced to them. "You've got a great kid there," President Mongo said as he gave her Mom a hug. "She's always safe with us."

"It's not her I'm worried about," she said with a smile. "Now come on, I need a drink before things start getting wild."

Her dress showed the tattoos on her shoulder, and he noticed the shield with the black stripe across it. "Your husband died on the job," he said softly.

"Yes." He pulled her into a hug with his old lady. "Hit by a drunk driver while responding to an accident."

"I'm sorry," he said. "Rori never talked about it, she changes the subject any time her father comes up." When introductions finished, he led them inside and the Ladies pulled the three guests over to sit with them at a table. Mongo led Rori to the main table, where she was introduced to the visiting Presidents and the Regional President. She kept an eye on her friend and her family, but the ladies made sure they met everyone and had a good time. Grandma was chatting with the older ladies of the club, Donna was laughing with Roadkill, a big man who ran his own trucking business, while Ashley was the center of attention at a table with the younger men of the club.

There was a big barbecue buffet set up, and when the two hundred or so people attending had finished, Mongo called for silence. "Tonight we unveil the memorial to the five men this Club has lost to the road. For Sprocket, Bucket, Burrito, Jaws and Flash, your memories will live forever here in the Club thanks to the talent of one special friend. Rori King has rapidly become a valued part of this Club, and you'll see one reason why in a minute. Rori?"

She stood up from the table, accepting a hug from him before she walked over to the tarp than covered the wall behind them. "Thank you all for being my friends and accepting me into your family. May this painting never need updating again." She took the rope on one side, while Mongo took the other. With a nod, they pulled the tarp down and showed everyone her work.

There was silence for about ten seconds, long enough for her to start worrying that she had done something wrong. Then a clap sounded, and it turned into thunder as the men and women showed their appreciation. "TO THE FALLEN," Mongo said as he raised his beer.

"THE FALLEN!" The toast was taken up, then the party started. Rori was the hit of the party, even making it to the dance floor with some of the younger men. She wasn't used to being around boys, much less having people pay attention to her in a good way, and she had fun. She was given contact information and invitations to visit from all of the other Chapters, and the Ladies had her back. She could go anywhere and find family now.

"Time for you to go, and take your friend with you," Three Tequila said, she was Mongo's old lady. "Things are going to get rowdy."

She looked disappointed, but the other ladies were already leading Ashley over. She turned to her Mom, who was locked in a conversation with Roadkill. "I'll be home later, honey," she said. "Make sure Grandma is all right and don't wait up for me."

The three of them drove back to their homes, and Ashley texted her friend to thank her for the invite before she went into the house. "How did it go," Charlie said.

"Good," she said. "I'm starting to lose her to other things. She's spending more time with the Club, and they're already offering up jobs in other Chapters. We won't be able to protect her if she starts traveling and staying with them."

"We have to move soon," Charles said. "I'll make a call."