Page 107 of Sangre
Chapter Twenty-Five
Sturgis, SD
The black banneroverhead read “Welcome Harley Riders” and spanned the length of Main Street in downtown Sturgis. Underneath it, the road was thick with motorcycles, tattooed and bearded men, and scantily clad women. For the men, skullcaps, sunglasses, boots, sleeveless shirts, and black leather were the norm while body paint, thongs, and pasties would do for many of the women, but the stars of the rally were the thousands of custom-painted Harley-Davidsons parked four rows deep and lined up for blocks, their chrome sparkling in the sun.
“Fuckin’ wicked,” Sangre said as he admired Hawk’s bike. “I heard you customized it, but you outdid yourself. I’m thinking of buying a new bike. I’ll have to ride it to Pinewood Springs to have you do your magic.”
“Just give me the heads up before you come.” Hawk pointed to his burnt orange bike. “This one took me about six months to do, but I went out of control with it.”
“It’s a beauty though.” Sangre ran his hands over the neon flames and ghoulish skulls. “Are you and Cara staying in a tent or an RV?”
Hawk guffawed. “No way would Cara stay in a tent. We rented a big ass RV. It’s like a damn house. What about you?”
“An RV. Eagle, Shotgun, and I went in on it. Who else is here from the Insurgents?”
“Banger, Throttle, Wheelie, Rags, and about twenty more brothers. Did everyone come from the Night Rebels?”
“Pretty much.”
“Sangre.”
He turned around and grinned when he saw Isla walking toward him.
“Is that your main squeeze in Sturgis?” Rags said. Many of the men had “girlfriends” in Sturgis who they’d hook up with each year at the rally.
Sangre looked at the Insurgent MC member and shook his head. “She’s my main squeeze in Alina.”But she’s going back to LA.“She’s the lead singer in Iris Blue. The band’s playing tonight at Buffalo Chip, and they really know how to rock.” He leaned against his bike.
“That’s cool. I’ll have to check them out,” Rags said.
“Hi, sexy,” Isla said, lightly punching his arm. “When did you get in?”
“Late last night.”
“I’ve never seen so many motorcycles in my life. I’m sure this is a biker’s paradise.” The sun bounced off her mirrored sunglasses. She waved her hand at Hawk’s Harley. “That is a true work of art. Amazing.” Hawk stared at her.
“It’s this brother’s bike,” he said, draping his arm around her shoulders.
Isla cocked her head. “And who is ‘this brother’?”
“Hawk. He’s the vice president of the Insurgents.”
Isla extended her hand. “I’m Isla.” Hawk looked down at her hand then at her face.
“She’s my woman,” Sangre said.
Hawk’s features relaxed and he shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.” He clasped Sangre’s shoulder. “I didn’t know you had a woman.”
Sangre gave a small nod then bent down and kissed the side of her face. “Do you have some free time?”
“Yes. We aren’t playing until tonight. I was checking out the vendor booths before I spotted you. Why didn’t you call me this morning?”
“I was planning to, but we came to check out the bikes and I lost track of the time.”
“You guys love your Harleys. I never thought I’d have to compete with a motorcycle.”
“We love the ride, the freedom, the brotherhood.”
“Fuck yeah,” Hawk said while Rags raised his fist in the air.
