Page 11 of Falcon

Mama Hen was still a looker even at her age. But she was always more of a biker than a lady. She cut her sandy blonde hair short years ago because she didn’t want to fuss over it, and it was becoming more silver by the day. She was naturally beautiful and never wore much makeup. She loved her jeans, boots, and tees and took no shit. She took care of the ladies at the strip club, but she also helped manage the bar the club owned at the edge of town. She was as equal to Raven as the club would allow a woman to be. She never came to church, but she probably knew what was discussed there.

I was standing by the cage at the hospital’s curb, my eyes scanning all over. Rooster and Eagle were watching the perimeter, keeping a lookout for anything suspicious. They would follow us home, making sure no one got the drop on us while we drove. Butch was left in charge at the compound because Hawk insisted on being at the hospital when the ladies left. We still didn’t know if this was an actual hit or just some street punks. But street punks weren’t a logical option since they weren’t robbed, just shot at on a busy highway near Atlanta.

Keys found some grainy pics from a few traffic lights near the site of the accident and grabbed the police report online. Since it was public record, any of us could have done the same.

“There’s my favorite chauffeur,” Mama Hen called out, breaking my racing thoughts.

Hawk was tight lipped, shuffling both women out. Penny had a baseball hat on with her long dark hair pulled through the back, and her eyes had dark circles under them. She also looked like she lost ten pounds, which wasn’t good on an already small frame. Hawk looked like a concerned dad more than a son and brother as he corralled them towards me.

“Remember Ma, we’ll do our hugs and shit at the clubhouse,” Hawk said.

I opened the passenger and rear door. Penny hopped in the back with the bags and released a heavy sigh. I took Mama Hen’s hand and helped her into the truck. She still had some nasty road rash, but it looked like her arm took the brunt of the pavement and saved her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, though. Taking in her injuries and knowing she’d been crying made my blood boil.

Once she was seated, Hawk leaned in to kiss her cheek and help her buckle in while I went around to climb into the driver’s seat. Once I buckled and started the cage, Hawk jutted his chin out and I nodded in response. I was in charge of the precious cargo. If anyone fucked with us, they better be damn good, otherwise they’d be dead. Even if that meant I died in the process.

I pulled out and before we got to the main road, Rooster and Eagle pulled ahead of me. Looking in my rearview, I saw that Hawk wasn’t far behind.

The ride was quiet besides the low lull of classic rock playing on the radio and the breeze from the cracked windows. It was a bittersweet day. Mama Hen was coming home, but without Raven. And she shouldn’t have been in the hospital to begin with. Things were about to change for our club.

We’d been the top dogs for so long, we got lax and that left us open to attack. Raven was a great leader, but clearly we underestimated the fact that someone would eventually come for what we had.

Most of us traveled together and routes were planned out, eyes always watching, but Raven and Mama Hen obviously didn’t have enough coverage. I still didn’t know the full story of what happened the night Raven met his untimely destiny, but I didn’t want to press Mama Hen, even though I was itching to understand the details. Soon enough, we’d know.

After half an hour of quiet tension, I turned down the long driveway that led to the compound. It was tucked behind a wall of trees that were growing back in greener and fuller now that spring was around the corner. Besides the rumble of the bikes, I fully expected a welcome party due to the cameras set up around the property.

As we got closer, Mama Hen’s arm flew to me, grabbing my wrist as she exhaled a loud gasp. Raven’s bike had been recovered from the police impound a few days ago and Squatch made sure it was back to its original condition before we brought the women home.

I stopped the truck and placed my hand over hers. Her jaw was tight and her eyes glistened, but she wasn’t crying. Butch came over, opening her door as she finally moved her hand from my arm. He scooped her from the cage.

“Hey, watch the ribs, Butch!” she shouted with a smile.

He put her down gently and I hopped out and grabbed their bags. I leaned against the truck as Penny climbed out and walked with her mom toward the restored bike. The whole club was outside to greet her, but everyone waited patiently as she made her way to the blacked-out Fat Boy.

Everyone was outside, most of the men with arms crossed over their chests and the bunnies with pink noses as tears started to fall down their cheeks. Hawk stood with his arm around his sister’s shoulders. Butch walked up to the bike with Mama Hen, her arm threaded into his, then he kissed her forehead and gave her some space, his head hanging low. He was one of the toughest of us all, but he was obviously feeling the weight of this situation, not just for himself or the club, but for Mama Hen, his true mom in his eyes.

She walked around the bike, lightly dragging her fingers over it. She lingered briefly at the sissy bar. Eventually, she grabbed a handlebar and threw a leg over, Butch right behind her to help her. She was still moving gingerly.

We watched quietly, with nothing but the occasional sounds of birds chirping as the weather teased us with warmer days and sunshine until it turned cold and wet again. I walked closer to stand with my brothers. Everyone watched Mama Hen, the heaviness of the moment thick in the air around us.

After several minutes, Mama Hen leaned forward, hands grasping the bars, and finally her shoulders began to shake as she allowed herself to feel the emotion of the fact he was gone for good.

Chapter 8

Falcon

It took a few days, but once the ladies were settled and rested, we finally spoke to Mama Hen about the night shit went down.

She sipped her whiskey as she recounted the night, with Hawk by her side, gripping her hand in his. “We were at the club earlier and once I posted the new schedule and placed the liquor and food order, he wanted to run by the bar because the tap was sticking again.” Her brow furrowed and she ran her finger over the rim of the glass.

Butch was sitting on the other side of her, and he put his hand on her shoulder. Eagle ran his hand through his dark hair and Rooster and Red both leaned in with their elbows on their knees. My arms were crossed, but my hand was running down my beard repeatedly. We were all chomping at the bit for some details, but we gave her all the breaks she needed.

“It was a beautiful night and I wanted to feel the air. I tossed my jean jacket on because Raven insisted I covered up.” She chuckled and continued, “He said he didn’t want anything happening to his old lady and he wouldn’t let me on until I did.” She drank back the rest of the brown liquid. “That jacket was destroyed between the road and the EMTs cutting it off.”

Hawk rubbed her arm with his free hand. “Did you see who it was, Ma? Or anything?”

She nodded and took a ragged breath. “We’d just left the bar. There weren’t many other cars out that late. I was getting tired, so I let go of Raven for a second to stretch and rolled my neck. That’s when it happened. Just two shots.”

Butch gently grabbed her arm. “Mama Hen, was it a bike? A car?”

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