Diego, the president of our northern chapter, rolled in with a half a dozen guys, who all handed over the registration fee before going into the bar to cool down after traveling so far to be here. Even the most seasoned riders needed to take a break after a while. It could be hard on the body to stay in the same position for so long. I found that my hands started to ache after a few hours from gripping the throttle the whole time. The men had about a half an hour before the ride began, so they should be good to go by then. It had been decided that we would set out in one large group at noon, led by Trainer, our road captain. It was going to be a massive ride, with all the Outlaw Souls leading the charge, showing the community that we were committed to this cause.
There were signs at each entrance of the parking lot and a big banner hanging on the front of the bar that announced this was a poker run ride to benefit the La Playa Soup Kitchen sponsored by Outlaw Souls and Black Satin. I knew that there were similar signs at each stop of the ride and at the soup kitchen. I just hoped it was enough to soften the image of both organizations within the community.
I was standing near my bike, using a bike cleaner and polish to make her shine. I took pride in my motorcycle, keeping it up to date on all service needs and upgrading accessories as I could afford to do so. I also kept it looking nice. I didn’t give a crap about the road dust collecting on the car I had parked at the apartment complex—I hardly ever drove the thing anyway, just keeping it in case of shitty weather—but my bike was different. It was an honor to keep the Harley nice.
Nearby, a few of my club brothers were shooting the shit. Blade had given me a hard time about polishing the bike, asking if I thought this was a parade or something, but I ignored him. He could ride with bug guts splattered all over his gas tank if he wanted, but that wasn’t the way I did things.
“Whoa, check out Snake’s new ride,” Pin said from behind me. I had just finished with the pipes on the bike, making them shine like they were brand new, so I straightened and turned to look.
Talk about a nice-looking bike. The thing looked like it could have been driven off the lot an hour ago. With twin headlights and a three-header exhaust run, there was no mistaking what I was looking at.
“Hot damn, is that a Rocket III?” Trainer asked, coming over to gawk with us.
It was. I’d drooled over the bike in a magazine months ago, when they’d announced this year’s Triumph motorcycle models. The thing was big, powerful, and came with a hell of a price tag. I didn’t know how Snake could afford the thing, unless it was hot. I hoped not. Ryder had told us to go out of our way to keep out of trouble, and he’d kick Snake’s ass if he’d stolen this bike.
Snake was probably the most mysterious member of Outlaw Souls. He was a closed book, keeping to himself more than anyone else. He’d been a member for longer than I had, but even the most tenured members didn’t seem to know him well. He was a large man, with his towering height, but the thing that made Snake intimidating was the scar that ran along the side of his face from his eyebrow to his jaw in one thick line. No one knew how he’d gotten it, and he wasn’t the sharing type.
Pulling the bike up beside mine, Snake dismounted. He removed his helmet and smirked at us. “What? You’ve never seen a bike before?”
“Bike?” Trainer repeated faintly. “That’s a piece of art.”
I chuckled. We all loved motorcycles, but Trainer was especially crazy about them. He made his living fixing up older bikes and selling them for a profit. We all wrenched on our own motorcycles, but Trainer was the resident expert if something serious went wrong.
“Yeah, well, just like in a museum, you all can look, but don’t touch,” Snake said.
“You all ready to start?” Ryder asked, walking up to us with Paige at his side. She was probably going to ride on the back of his bike.
A pang of jealousy made me avert my attention to putting away my polish and rag into the saddlebag hanging off the side of my bike. I didn’t want anyone to see the emotion on my face, especially Blade, since he’d met Sabrina. He might ask about her, and I certainly didn’t want to talk about it.
“I think we’re good to go,” Trainer said.
“Good. You want to make the announcement?” Ryder asked me, handing over a megaphone that I hadn’t noticed was in his hand.
“Sure.” I took it from him and moved to the edge of the lot where Hawk’s truck was parked. Climbing up into the bed of the vehicle, I turned on the megaphone, making sure the volume was maxed out.
“Hello, everyone!” I said, and nearly two hundred sets of eyes turned my way. “Welcome to the first ever La Playa poker run.”
There was a round of cheers, and I waited for it to subside before continuing.
“All money raised today will go to the La Playa Soup Kitchen. Today, we take advantage of this gorgeous weather by riding together for a cause!”
All over the parking lot and into the street, people fired up their bikes, the sounds merging in a roar that was even louder than my voice over the megaphone. Excitement flared inside of me, and I hopped off the truck, joining the other Outlaw Souls as I got onto my own bike and started it up. We fell into a riding formation without even thinking about it, with Trainer in the lead, followed immediately by Ryder, then the rest of us. We were a huge group as we rode together, our tires eating up the pavement as we leaned into the corners and shifted through the gears to pick up speed on the long stretches.
I knew the route we were taking by heart, and our first stop was the brewery. We stopped there for a half an hour, congregating in the parking lot of the large brick building. There was a table set up where two more girls from the club were handing out playing cards and offering bottles of water or soda. Even though we were at the brewery, we decided it wouldn’t be a good idea to offer even small samples of the beer to the participants. The positive image we were going for would be decimated if one of our number was popped for riding while intoxicated.
We moved on to our next destination, the strip club. Black Satin had snacks set up on two tables in the parking lot, and Cherry was among the women passing out the playing cards, flirting with the men. I wasn’t hungry, so I hung back, watching as the others swarmed the tables, helping themselves to the food.
This was going well, everyone seemed to be having a good time, and I could see people handing over cash to exchange their playing cards for new ones, increasing their chances of a good hand at the end. It was all more money going to the soup kitchen.
Sabrina would be happy.
I was eager to see her; it had been too long. I’d had a few days to think about her engagement announcement, and I decided that I needed to talk things out with her. I couldn’t figure out where I stood with her.
The next stop on the ride was at a spot along the beach, where everyone got a fourth card for their poker hand as well as a custom-made sticker for the back of their bikes or trunk boxes. That had been Abby’s idea. She often ordered bumper stickers in bulk to advertise the strip club. The ones we were handing out today saidLa Playa Poker Runalongside a stack of poker chips.
When we got to the soup kitchen, there were news vans already there. Sabrina had told me that she expected press at the event, but I was surprised to see all the local stations and one well-known national news group. I didn’t know how she’d pulled this off, but it was impressive. In fact, I was starting to wonder if we should make this an annual thing. There was no downside that I could see.
There was a veterinarian next door that was closed on the weekends, so they’d agreed to let us use their parking lots for the bikes. There were tables and chairs set up outside that had been borrowed from the Blue Dog and Black Satin. The inside of the soup kitchen couldn’t hold this many people, so it worked out well to have the extra space.
