Lady Guardians: Back Off

  Back Off

  Lady Guardians

  Toye Lawson Brown

  Contents

  Acknowledgments

  1. Carrie

  2. Jonah

  3. Carrie

  4. Jonah

  5. Carrie

  6. Jonah

  7. Carrie

  8. Jonah

  9. Carrie

  10. Carrie

  11. Jonah

  12. Jonah

  13. Carrie

  14. Carrie

  15. Carrie

  16. Jonah

  Epilogue

  Also by Toye Lawson Brown

  About the Author

  Justice by Xyla Turner

  Additional Chapters

  Kindle Version

  Copyright © TLB Publishing 2018

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design by Darleen Dixon

  DISCLAMER

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for the buyer’s personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold, uploaded via the internet, copied, printed, or redistributed without the written permission of the publisher or author. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or if it was not purchased for your use only, then please return it to the retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Created with Vellum

  Acknowledgments

  I acknowledge God as the head of my life and without him; I would not be able to do what I enjoy. Second, I like to acknowledge my family for giving me strength and support to keep me going when I want to quit at times. No dream is worth having if you aren’t willing to put in the effort. My family enforces my efforts. I must not forget my team of beta readers. They are fantastic and I would be lost without them. I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

  1

  Carrie

  The feel of the wind blowing on my face is refreshing. The rumble from the bike’s engine under my butt is exciting. The looks and verbal responses I get when I pass a crowd of people are empowering. Yes, I’m a rebel when I’m on my bike.

  Maybe not a rebel, but free. I love being outdoors in the summer, and nothing is more freeing than being on a bike on the open road. My mother doesn’t approve of me riding. She is afraid something will happen to me if I’m alone at night. She swears a car or truck won’t see me and will wipe me out. I can’t ease her fears after what happened to my brother. Cliff is a standing member of the Bold2Ride motorcycle club. He served as their sergeant at arms until he retired. B2R, which they liked to be called, is a popular MC club in Cleveland, and has created tight bonds with other clubs.

  But B2R has a reputation, and they also have enemies who might take revenge out on me because of Cliff. An attempt to ambush them happened during one of their chapter meetings a few years ago. The fight was violent, and Cliff was shot once in the leg and twice in the chest. His recovery was tedious and long. And after a lengthy trial putting his shooter behind bars for life, he moved his family to the West Coast.

  That caused my mom to freak out. She insisted I stay away from people involved with motorcycle clubs. She put her foot down. I respect my mother, but I’m over twenty-one and have to follow my dreams. Instead of joining an existing motorcycle club, I started a chapter of the Lady Guardians in Cleveland. Our mission: to raise money for the treatment of terminally ill children, not to rip through the streets of Cleveland causing hell.

  Pulling into an open spot in the parking lot, I turn off my bike and walk across the grass to join my girls at a picnic table. Our ride took us through the beautiful Metroparks and now to the clear waters of Lake Erie, where we get glances from onlookers. When people see six beautiful women on big, bold bikes, and the emblem on our backs, the tongues start to wag. I can’t explain it other than to say it is a chest-boosting experience.

  But we are not to be feared. We don’t have large tattoos or piercings on our bodies except for our ears. We are secretaries, patient helpers, and other office assistants that work at the Cleveland Clinic. From nine -to- five, I answer phones, file, and make appointments and arrangements for patients. My boss specializes in the research and treatment of terminal diseases.

  My friends always said I was a nurturer. So, when I thought of what I could do to help the families, it immediately hit me to ride to raise money for research.

  When I presented the idea to the Lady Guardians’ national chapter president, it was a go. Since I thought of the idea, my girls voted me president. I am so out of my league. There is a lot to learn when becoming a part of an organization that extends beyond Cleveland. There are bylaws to follow and events to attend. I have a strong personality when it comes to helping others. And with me in a room with people that possess the same attributes, we will achieve progress.

  Anyhow, today’s meeting with my officers is about an ongoing concern. There is another local female motorcycle club trying to muscle in on my hard work. Latrice whose biker name is Tequeela, is the Hell Dolls president. She’s been vocal about wanting the Lady Guardians destroyed, since we’ve received accolades from various city leaders for our commitment to helping others.

  For that to happen, there may be bloodshed. I never walk away from anything I’m passionate about.

  “Okay, let’s get started,” I say, straddling the bench. I take a tissue from my pocket and dab sweat from my forehead. On a hot summer day in Cleveland, my cotton tee-shirt under my sleeveless vest is a little damp, and my feet are warm in the heavy boots.

  Seated at the table are Pepper, Millie, Anita, and Dawn. They work at Cleveland Clinic and have the same passion for bikes that I do.

  Pepper has her laptop out and is pecking away at the keys. “Logged in and ready, Carrie,” she says not looking up at me.

  “It’s hot, but I’m ready to get this money,” Millie says fanning herself with her hands.

  Pepper is the treasurer of the club and makes sure money collected from fundraisers is distributed to organizations. She also manages the dues from members. Dawn is the sergeant at arms and takes her responsibilities seriously. Millie is my vice president and ready to step in if I can’t perform my duties for whatever reason. Vicki is the secretary but couldn’t attend the meeting due to family obligations. Anita is the road captain, but we haven’t taken any road trips yet. One is planned for the annual meeting that all the chapters are supposed to attend.

  As my chapter expands, positions will become available. However, I expect some patch holders will want a chance to be an elected officer. I’ll deal with that when I see how committed new members are to the LGs.

  My reasons are because Dawn has suspicions that a spy is among our sisterhood. Since it’s only a few of us, I need more information before I can confront that person.

  Dawn walks around the picnic table to sit next to me. “I know who might be the spy, Carrie. Give me five minutes with her, please?” She slaps a tight fist against the open palm of her hand.

  Dawn works in the dialysis department as a patient helper. She’s a healthy girl and the only member that has a tattoo. She also has a heart of gold but will beat the hell out of someone if pushed too far.

  The curls of her short blonde hair catch the sun’s rays, bouncing off it like shiny gold. Her blue eyes are dark and intense as she waits for me to answer.

  “Dawn, be certain before y
ou confront her, I say. “It’s only a few of us, and wrongly accusing another member could be detrimental to our cause.”

  “I’ll be cool about it, Carrie. With any luck, she’ll end up ratting herself out.”

  “It would be great to know who is spying for Tequeela. You should start by planting false information about us. If it gets back to the Hell Dolls, then we got them.”

  “Good idea. I know what to plant, too.”

  The smirk on Dawn’s face is concerning, but I know she won’t do anything to bring negative attention to the club. “Keep it clean, Dawn. That’s all I ask.” She gives me her promise. And I prepare to move on to the next order of business.

  Millie unpacks food from a cooler, stacking the containers on the picnic table. “I made tuna, ham, and roast beef sandwiches.”

  “What a spread for the four of us,” I say to Millie.

  She continues to unpack stuff from the cooler and laughs. “Riding takes a lot of energy. I have cold water and pop too.”

  “You make good use of those saddle bags on your bike,” I say, and then reach for a roast beef sandwich.

  “Imagine if she’d driven a car,” Anita mumbles.

  Millie frowns and says, “Y’all acting surprised I like to cook. Be happy I bought anything to eat.”

  “I appreciate the food, Millie. I’m sure the others do too,” I say, giving them the side-eye.

  “Yes, we are,” they answer in unison.

  I take a bite of my sandwich, lay it on the foil wrapper and grab my notebook. “Okay, we need to discuss the goals set for July and the Hell Dolls.”

  “Ugh. They’re getting on my damn nerves,” Anita barks. “We need to terrorize them, give them a taste of their own medicine.”

  I chuckle. “Girl, please. The best we can do is make a threat…” A loud roar approaches from the east end of the road. There’s no mistaking that the sound is powerful motorcycles. And they are coming fast and hard.

  We stay seated and watch them circle the parking lot. The twelve bikes come to a halt. Simultaneously, they gun the engines and block our bikes in case we try to leave. My heart is pounding as I wait for the confrontation with Tequeela.

  I’m not afraid of her. If she wants a fight, I don’t have a problem going fist to fist with her. But she doesn’t always play fair. She is known to carry weapons.

  Tequeela is aware which bike is mine. I watch her get off her bike and walk over to my brand-new Low Rider. It was a proud day for me when I walked into Harley-Davidson, told the salesman exactly what motorcycle I wanted and paid for it in cash.

  Dawn leaps up from the table, and I grab her arm to keep her from running away. “Hold on, Dawn. Wait and see what they do.”

  “I’m not waiting for them to fuck up my bike, Carrie. You can sit here if you want,” she says, pulling her arm from my grasp. “But those bitches ain’t about to wreck my stuff.”

  Dawn’s foul mouth doesn’t bother me. It is part of her character, and I love that about her. “Okay, then we all go together. We have to stick together.”

  “Let’s roll,” Anita says as she removes her large hoop earrings. “Who cares it’s twelve of them and five of us?”

  “Um, seriously, we’re going to fight those dude-looking females, Carrie?” Pepper asks as she takes care to pack away her laptop.

  “I know it will be an uneven fight, but we have to stand our ground,” I say. “Do you want them to take over what we’ve started, Pepper?”

  Pepper shakes her head. “No. But I don’t want my ass in a sling, either. Look, I didn’t sign up for any biker wars. Before we were Lady Guardians, we raised a lot of money just riding by ourselves. We didn’t have to worry about battles with rival gangs. I have a kid and husband at home.”

  “Carrie, let Pepper stay here. We can handle them without her,” Dawn interjects.

  I roll my eyes at Pepper. I get Pepper has a family; we all do. However, she read the rules regarding loyalty to the Lady Guardians.

  I get up from the table and instruct Pepper to call for help if the fight gets out of hand. She should save herself the trouble and call now—the odds of winning are so stacked against us.

  Dawn is ahead of me by a few steps, flexing her arms and mumbling incoherently. I have never seen a person so ready and willing to give or take a beat-down. The dry grass crunches under the weight of my boots. A fight. I haven’t fought since junior high school. A group of girls ganged up on me in the bathroom, blindsiding me.

  Though I was never the popular girl, I had plenty of friends. Some girls hated me because of my looks. My long chestnut hair and light-colored skin rubbed some black girls the wrong way. I remember running home after the fight. Cliff was furious and said if I ever came home crying again, he’d beat me up.

  He taught me to defend myself using words or my hands. Since that day, I’ve had no problem verbally expressing myself. I still hate being called “white girl” when I’m just as black as the darker-skinned women, but I don’t let it stop me from voicing my opinions.

  The closer I get, the more my stomach rolls. The Hell Dolls are a vicious group of women with visible battle scars among the many tattoos covering their arms and legs. Some even have tats on their faces. The Hell Dolls colors are black and red, with flames firing from heads of bulls. Any man would fear meeting up with them in a dark alley. I draw in a deep breath and release it slowly, convincing myself I’m not scared.

  We reach the parking lot and face the women waiting to see if we’ll make the first move.

  I put my hands on my hips and ask, “Following me again, Tequeela?”

  She removes her sunglasses, placing them on top of her head. “I ain’t got time for games. You know what I want.”

  “Then you already know the answer.”

  “Playing with fire will get your pretty ass burned, girl.”

  “Why is it even an issue, Tequeela? My girls and I are not trying to upstage you.”

  “I don’t like to look bad. You and the pink cadets come in doing your goodwill, and the media is all over you. They forget what the Hell Dolls have done for the city.”

  My brows pinch together. Sometimes my mouth can get ahead of me. “That’s not my fault. And, I’m not stopping what I’m doing because your merry band of idiots can’t stay out of trouble.”

  Tequeela lunges for me. I draw back my fist, ready to fight as hard as I can. A sharp pain cuts across my face as we drop to the ground fighting. I’m twisting and turning, making it hard for her to grab hold of me. She grabs for my hair, and I swing my fist, hitting something hard.

  We disconnect for a minute, then her sweaty arm closes around my head, drawing me close to her body. The way she’s holding me, I can’t really move. Plus deodorant isn’t her friend. I struggle to breathe and claw at her flesh with my nails, hoping the pain will make her release me. No such luck.

  2

  Jonah

  My boys and I roll in the parking lot in time to see a hostile situation between two MC clubs underway. We gun our engines hoping to stop the melee. It works as most of the women break away. Only two women continue to fight.

  When I received the call from Cliff, I left work and rallied my boys to take a ride down to the lake. Carrie, Cliff’s sister, is on the quiet side and a little prissy. I was surprised when he said she was starting a club. Anyhow, Cliff suspects his little sister is getting shit from the Hell Dolls and needs help. Though B2R doesn’t have female bikers, we defend the Lady Guardians. As the president, I decided to support them because Cliff is a brother for life, and we protect the family.

  I come to a stop, place both feet on the ground, and switch off the engine. Standing next to my bike, I remove my helmet and hang it on the handlebar.

  I see the LG’s are vastly outnumbered. They will not walk away unscathed from a battle with the Hell Dolls. Hell, I’ve often wondered if all of them are females. The LG’s, on the other hand, are women.

  My boys move in, separating those engaged in the fight, I gla
nce at the blonde. She is pissed we’ve intervened.

  “Let her go,” I yell. I pull Carrie from Tequeela’s headlock and place her behind me. “What the hell is going on?”

  Tequeela looks at me; she is furious. “What are you doing here, Jonah?”

  There aren’t too many motorcycle clubs in the city that don’t get along. Her club and affiliates, however, are bad seeds. I see blood running from her nose. Carrie got a punch in before getting hemmed in by Tequeela.

  “I thought my boys and I would have a picnic by the lake.”

  She wipes the blood from her nose and says, “Get going; you ain’t got no business down here.”

  I scrunch my face. “Yeah I do. Look, you’re starting shit with the LGs because you’re jealous. I’m here to let you know that shit stops today.”

  “Fuck you and them. They need to respect us or get out of the game.”

  “Not happening. Now act like nice little girls, get on your bikes, and be on your way.”

  Tequeela’s eyes narrow and she points her finger at my face. “Your white ass better get out of my face. You’re gonna learn to quit messing with me, Jonah.”

  I can’t stand anything about Tequeela. She has a hard time staying in her lane. I don’t have a problem putting her back on track. “Since your ass wanna fight like a man—take on a real man,” I say.

  I visualize her taking me up on my request. There is no doubt in my mind she wouldn’t put up a good fight. Hell, I’m six feet, four inches and in good shape. Not bad for a guy who owns a pet shop. Watching her man-handle Carrie, who is probably five foot, four inches and weighs less than both of Tequeela’s thighs got my blood boiling. Under any other circumstances, I would never hit a woman. But Tequeela is another story.