Cameron: Rebel Riders MC Series, #6

By Molly Black

With the death of the president of Rebel Riders MC, there was bound to be some drama. 

I knew there would be plenty of people trying to move in on our territory, sure that we wouldn't be ready for their attacks. 

But I hadn't expected the fighting to start from within the club. 

With two different men vying to lead the club and pressure coming on from outside the club, my plate was already full. 

I was just supposed to make sure that Tara was safe, after she had arranged Ray's funeral for us. 

Instead, she was quickly becoming one more thing that I just couldn't stop thinking about, on top of the club and everything else. 

Had I committed to too many different things? Only time would tell. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: MB
• Release date: Aug 22, 2019
• ISBN: 9781393734987

Book preview

Chapter 1

Cameron

Get My Free MC Book For A Limited Time

Ifrowned at the hospital receptionist and hoped she got the message that I was not okay with having to wait while she finished up what was clearly a personal call on her cell phone. She rolled her eyes and put her hand over the receiver. Can I help you? she asked.

Ray Thompson. His room has been changed. I need to know where he is.

I could see the color drain from her face, and she quickly hung up her call, typing something into the computer. Good. Even in this terrible hospital, Ray’s reputation preceded him. He was the leader of the most powerful motorcycle club in New Mexico, let alone Las Cruces, and he certainly deserved respect.

Of course, we’d all been hoping that his lung cancer wouldn’t be the stupid, anticlimactic end to his life, but it was looking more and more like that was going to be the case.

Sure enough, the woman winced. He’s been moved to the ward for patients whose prognoses are... She trailed off, glancing up at my face and then quickly looking back at her screen. I could fill in the blanks. He’d been moved to the ward with the rest of the terminal patients. We didn’t have much time left.

I tried not to let my emotions show. To be honest, I wasn’t even sure I could sort out my emotions at this point. I was angry that Ray was sick, I was sad to think of the club without him, I was worried about how things would be when Grant took over the club, and to be honest, even though Ray and I weren’t related, this almost felt like I was losing a member of my family. A father, of sorts. Ray had been there for me for years now, ever since I had joined the MC.

I wasn’t the kind of guy you normally pictured when you were thinking of a biker dude either. I wasn’t broad, and I wasn’t brawny. I wasn’t the kind of guy who would go rough someone up just to get their money.

I didn’t have to be. There was a lot more to a biker club than the enforcers, but they were all that people ever thought about. As for me, I was the club’s treasurer. I loved my bike, and I got along well with the other guys in the club. But if anything, I probably looked a bit nerdy to most of the outsiders.

Let’s get something straight, though. I wasn’t the biker with the Masters degree. That was Marcus.

I shook my head and found my way to Ray’s new room, steeling myself outside his door for the inevitable. I let out a breath and entered the room after a cursory knock.

Ray nodded at me when I entered. You found me, I guess, he said.

I rolled my eyes. Only took half an hour of waiting for the damned nurse to get off her phone, I told him. How are you feeling?

You mean, besides the fact that they finally admitted that I’m dying? Ray asked sarcastically, but he seemed matter-of-fact about the whole thing. Of course, Ray had always been pretty stoic in the face of whatever came at him, but this was a whole new level. He shrugged one shoulder. Death happens. And sure, I always hoped it would be a better death than this, but who am I to choose? I figure this means that my enemies never got the best of me. I’m pretty fucking lucky.

I shook my head, unable to keep a small smile from playing across my lips. You know, I never really believed it when everyone told me that you were crazy, but you keep saying things like that, and I might start to believe them, I joked. You sound like you’re almost happy about this whole thing.

Believe me when I say that I’m not, Ray said slowly. But I also realize that there’s nothing I can do to change things now. And anyway, it’s about time for me to go. The club needs new life breathed into her, and I’ve done all that I can with this life of mine. I just hope that I’ve left something for my boys. And Belle.

Belle has Will to protect her; you know that, I said. He’s doing a damned fine job of it too. I was in there last week looking for a part to my bike project, the one that I’m building, and he was showing me some of the work that he’s been up to. It’s good stuff.

I believe that, Ray said gravely.

And as for Landon and Braxton, Landon’s all set up in Sarasota, and Braxton has more than carved out a place here with the Las Cruces branch of Rebel Riders, I continued. You don’t need to worry. As Ray closed his eyes and rested back against the pillows, his small smile drove me to add something further. Not only that, but you’ve made the community better. Even if it looked different in the eyes of some people.

Ray snorted. All right, all right, stop that, he said. Jesus, if I didn’t know better, I would think that you were trying to get something from me. You want the presidency instead of Grant?

I gave an incredulous laugh. Hell no, I said. You know me better than that.

I do, Ray agreed. He opened his eyes. You’ve been with Rebel Riders for a long time, Cameron, he said seriously. And I need you to keep being there for the guys. Now, more than ever. I need you to make sure that Grant runs the MC the way that you and I both know that he can.

Is he having second thoughts? I asked in surprise.

Ray shrugged a shoulder. You know Grant. Better than I do, even; although, I think I understand him better than you do. He paused. You’d know if Grant was planning on backing out. But I know he’s worried.

I guess I knew that part, I admitted with a nod. I had seen the hesitation in Grant almost from the moment Ray had named him as the next leader of the club. Since before that, really. Grant had come a long way since when he had first joined the club, but there had always been that hesitancy there, that slight pause, the uncertainty. The thing was: the club needed that. It needed someone like Ray who was going to think things through and not just run headlong into whatever problem we had.

Braxton would have been the obvious choice as Ray’s successor, as both his son and the main enforcer of the club, but Braxton was never willing to think. And besides, he didn’t want to be leader anyway. He didn’t want that kind of responsibility. He had grown up following his twin brother, and even though Landon was down in Sarasota now as vice president of that branch of Rebel Riders, Braxton still was more of a follower than a leader. That was just the way he was.

I definitely wasn’t about to sign up as the next leader, either. Like I’d told Ray, hell no. I was good with the numbers, but I wasn’t so good with the strategies, not when it came to fighting our enemies. I could gather information with the best of them, but I never wanted things to end up violently. Grant at least had more of a stomach for that than I did.

Just remember, Grant is still very young, Ray said. He’s only in his early twenties. He’s going to need a little guidance here and there. A little nudge. I know you’ve seen enough over the years that even if you and I aren’t always on the same page, you always have a good idea of what I’m planning. I need you to give that guidance to Grant in my absence. He sighed, staring off into space for a moment. If I had a little more time, I would make him leader now and be his guiding hand. But I don’t.

It was the closest Ray had come to admitting that he was upset about this whole thing. This illness, his cancer. I didn’t know what to say in response.

Fortunately, Braxton and Landon came into the room, and I knew that particular conversation was over. Ray would want to look strong in front of his sons; he always had. It had taken him a while to even admit to the two of them that he was sick. Grant and I had been the first people to know. I had been the first person to know because I had noticed that he was missing and had gone to figure out why.

That said something about our relationship more than anything else. We might not have been related by blood, but I had known him long enough that I knew his patterns by now. I knew when things were out of the ordinary.

I was starting to know Grant in the same way already, getting close to him so that he knew he had someone he could rely on in the club. This club was like my family; it always had been. I wanted Grant to feel the same way, and the rest of the new recruits as well, because there were plenty of them coming into the fold in the last couple months, something that Ray had initiated right before—or maybe right after—he found out that he was sick.

Hey, I think this room is an upgrade from your last one, Braxton joked, looking around. You even have color TV this time!

Ray rolled his eyes. I had color TV in the last room too, he said. I just happened to be watching some classic movies the one day that you came to see me.

Ugh, what an old man, Braxton said, rolling his eyes. Because even when his father was on his deathbed, Braxton was too proud to admit that he was concerned or upset. Everything was a joke to him. But to be honest, that was kind of nice at a time like this. I could use a good joke or two. Not that Braxton’s jokes were ever any good.

Landon, however, gave his twin a look as he sat in the chair next to his father’s bed. How are you doing? he asked seriously. The new room doesn’t sound like it’s good news.

Ray sighed and shook his head. But we knew this was coming, he reminded his sons.

I know, Landon said. I was just hoping that we would have a bit more time than this.

We don’t need more time, Ray said firmly. His eyes turned soft. Not that I wouldn’t love to see you grow older and fall more in love with your wives and eventually have children of your own, but you’re both well onto the paths of your lives at the moment, and I couldn’t be prouder of the two of you. I trust that even when I’m not around to hassle you, you’re going to continue to do just what you’re meant to. Just what I’d want you to. All you have to do is keep doing what you’re doing. He cleared his throat, looking awkward. Or something like that. I was never one for speeches.

Braxton laughed and shook his head. That’s probably simultaneously the most that anyone’s ever heard you say and the sappiest thing that anyone’s ever heard you say, he said.

A nurse came into the room. All right, I’m going to have to ask the three of you to clear out of here now, she said. Our patient needs some rest.

Ray rolled his eyes, but Braxton turned a wicked grin on me. You hear that, Cameron? he asked. Us three, Landon and Ray and I, are going to clear out. You get some rest now.

There was more laughter in the room. But as we filed out of there, I could see the way Braxton’s shoulders fell and noticed the way that he deflated. It was all an act for Ray, I realized. Like if he acted chipper enough, Ray would get better and be able to come home.

Or maybe he was just doing it so that Ray wouldn’t worry about him and Landon, so that Ray would pass comfortably into the next life safe in the knowledge that his sons were fine.

But Braxton wasn’t doing fine. I could see that in the pained pinch around his eyes. And his twin could tell it as well, based on the way that Landon reached up and put a hand on Braxton’s shoulders.

I trailed after them out of the hospital, feeling similar feelings of loss but also feeling a deep loneliness that they could never understand. Through all of this, they had each other. But even though we were as close as brothers—all of the guys at the MC—there was nothing that anyone could say to make me feel less alone in my grief. I had no one that I could lean on.

Chapter 2

Tara

I STARED DOWN AT THE body. Middle-aged, white male. He’d been in a grisly accident, and his body was pretty mangled. But fortunately for us, and for the wife who for some reason wanted an open-casket funeral, his face looked pretty good. You know, for a dead guy.

The wife wants him in a blue suit with a white shirt, Maddie, my assistant said, frowning down at the instructions that we’d received along with the body. She glanced up at me. But if we put him in a white shirt, it’s going to be obvious that he’s all bloodied up under there.

I shrugged. She knows that he was in an accident, I pointed out. Maybe she wants to make sure that everyone else knows it too.

Bullshit and you know it, Maddie said, rolling her eyes. She probably just wasn’t thinking about it. She chewed at her lower lip. Should we just change things on her behalf, or do you want me to give her a call?

If you want to give her a call, you can be my guest, I said. You know how these young wives are. They’re so upset about the death that they’re popping pills like there’s no tomorrow, which there won’t be if they keep taking those pills and downing them with vodka like they’re sorority girls gone wild. There are so many other details that she’s been focused on. She probably doesn’t even remember her own name, let alone what she asked for her husband to be wearing for the rest of eternity. We could put him in a bunny suit for all she’s going to care.

Tara! Maddie said, sounding shocked. This is going to be the last way that that woman ever sees him. What if he was her first true love? What if they have kids together? Or grandkids, even? Wouldn’t be unheard of at his age.

All right, all right, we’ll put him in the suit, I said, rolling my eyes. But I’m thinking that we probably want him in a black shirt. You can call the wife if you want to and get her to okay that, but you know she’s probably not going to pick up the phone. She’s too busy ordering cheese plates or whatever.

"Or mourning, Maddie said, giving me a pointed look. She shook her head. You just can’t even imagine what it’s like, can you? To have to say goodbye to someone that you love?"

I rolled my eyes. Of course I can, I said. "I just don’t know that I could ever get as irrational and upset as some of the people who we’ve had in here planning funerals. He’s dead. Do you really think he’s going to care what color shirt he’s wearing? I mean, she doesn’t actually think that his spirit or whatever is going to be staring down at himself all laid out for this open-casket funeral, do you?"

What’s in your will? Maddie asked suddenly. I mean, regarding funeral preparations. What are we supposed to do with you when you die?

I laughed and shrugged. Throw me in a river for all that I care, I told her. Tie bricks to my feet so I don’t float.

No seriously, Maddie said. I’m not going to have to prepare your body here, am I? Because that would be too weird.

No, you’re not going to have to prepare my body, I told her. Seriously, throw me in the river. I don’t have a will.

Jesus, Tara, you don’t have a will? Maddie asked, sounding scandalized. I mean, I know that you’re not that old, but I thought that you, more than anyone, would understand the importance of having a will. You know, being in this industry and all. We always shake our heads at the guys who end up here who don’t have wills or anyone who knows what to do about planning their funerals.

First of all, most of those idiots die in gang violence and shit like that, I said, rolling my eyes. Or drug deals gone wrong. I’m not involved in that kind of stuff. And moreover, what the hell would I put in my will?

Maddie raised an eyebrow at me. Oh, I don’t know, maybe the fact that you have a business and you need to leave it to someone? Or are you just planning on me being out of a job and the bank foreclosing on the building?

I doubt you’re still going to be working here by the time I die, I said. You’d get too cynical. You’re going to leave and find something else to do with your life eventually.

You do realize that I studied embalming, don’t you? Maddie asked. There aren’t a lot of jobs where my skills are particularly useful. I’m not so into taxidermy.

I shrugged and glanced away, before meeting her gaze again. Look, I sat down with a guy once. You know, one of those lawyer types.

‘One of those lawyer types’? Maddie asked. Please tell me you didn’t find him on an infomercial.

No, of course not. He was a friend of a friend. Anyway, things were going well. We were figuring out all the legal jargon and coming up with my will. But then he asked me who I would want to leave everything to, and I just couldn’t think of anyone to list. I shrugged. It would be easier to come up with someone now that Sam’s in the picture, but he’s so young that he wouldn’t really understand any of it anyway. He definitely wouldn’t care what color shirt I was wearing for the funeral. And besides, I never have time to schedule something like that now. What with running a business and being a single mother and all.

I paused, looking away from her again. Maybe you’re right. Maybe the only reason I’m any good at this job is because there’s no one I care about enough that I could ever empathize with how these grieving widows feel. But that also means it’s impossible for me to come up with a will, because I don’t expect anyone is going to care that much about me once I’ve kicked the bucket. Like I said, throw me in the river. No one will mind.

Maddie gave me a disappointed look, but she seemed to realize that there was no arguing with me about it. She shrugged, her lips drawn tight together. Well, I think that’s a pretty miserable way to live, she said simply. And I’m sure that you’ll find someone eventually. You have to have some guy on your radar, right?

Of course not, I said, rolling my eyes. Guys are cowards. And besides, I only need one man in my life.

"The relationship you have with Sam is not the kind of relationship that I’m talking about," Maddie said.

Speaking of Sam, I said, glancing down at my watch, it’s about time I went and got him. Would you mind finishing up with this guy here? White shirt, black shirt, widow informed or not, I don’t care. Just make him presentable for the funeral.

Yeah, yeah, Maddie said, waving her hands at me. You get out of here. You’re more of a distraction than a help anyway.

I stuck my tongue out at her and went to get changed into my real clothes.

When I got to the school, Sam was already sitting out front waiting for me with the rest of his class, all in a line with his teacher. He jumped to his feet and bounded toward my car as I pulled up, giving his teacher a wave. I got out of the car and went around to help him in, giving him a big hug before I did so. Hey, little man, I said. How was school today?

It was the best, Sam said, but before he could elaborate, he wrinkled his nose. Did you touch a dead body today?

I laughed. How could you tell? I asked.

You smell funny, Sam said, and when I went to give him another hug, he squirmed away. "Mommy, that’s gross," he said.

I laughed and scooped him up to put him in his car seat, ignoring the way that he wriggled around. He was only five, and right now, it was easy enough to overpower him. Soon, I was going to have to figure out some better way to greet him. Why didn’t anyone make a perfume that covered up the smell of formaldehyde?

You know, the weather’s so nice, I was thinking that we could have a picnic in the park tonight. How does that sound? I asked Sam as I got into the driver’s seat.

Yeah! Sam cheered from the back seat.

I grinned as I put the car in drive, already compiling a mental list of what we would need at the store. I forgot all about white shirts versus black shirts. Sam was my whole world, and when I was him, it was like nothing else mattered except his happiness.

Chapter 3

Cameron

NO ONE EVER LIKED HANGING out in a hospital waiting room. It wasn’t like I was the first person to hate the medicinal smell of the place or the somber mood. I hated the waiting part of it more than anything. We’d all been sitting here for hours now, just hoping to hear some news about Ray before they kicked us out for the night. He’d had a rough twenty-four hours, and they weren’t even letting us in to see him. Braxton and Landon had managed to get in there that afternoon, but they were only in there for about ten minutes before the doctors flooded the place and demanded more room.

They’d headed out immediately. They didn’t want to get in the way of the doctors when it came to saving their father’s life. Whatever words they’d exchanged with Ray, they weren’t spoken of now.

As for me, I had to talk to Grant about what Ray had said the previous day.

I just don’t know if I’m ready, Grant muttered under his breath as he once again dropped into the chair next to me that evening. He was back from vending machines again, but this time, he was empty-handed. God, I could go for a smoke right now, he said.

Want one? Braxton asked, holding out a pack, but Grant shook his head.

I promised that I wasn’t going to use cigarettes as a crutch to help me through all of this, he said.

Braxton rolled his eyes, and I fought to keep from smiling. Some of the things that Grant said just sounded so cutely naive. Like cigarettes were the worst of his problems.

Come on, I said, slinging an arm around his