Hard Times by Yoteicon92

Hard Times

Yoteicon92, Anal, Bi, Bisexual, Columbus, Doberman, Father, Friendship, Gay, Illinois, Leather, Malamute, Newark, Oral, Outlaw biker, Piercing, Relationships, Son, Threesome, Tragedy, Traveling, Wolf, bikers, chicago, dating, fate, motorcycles, ohio, prince albert

Ronnie Samson, a rough n' tough outlaw biker, and a singer to a band, was at the cusp of success when a tragic accident ended his career. Half a decade later, after several tragedies, and at literally rock bottom, Ronnie gets a second chance at success when he takes a blind leap of fate into the unknown~

Part of my Series on FA: https://www.furaffinity.net/journal/2143509/

At 199 pages, this is my longest story ever.

Hard Times

2017.

Ronnie Samson never once thought that his band would become famous. But here he was, standing on stage with his rough 'n tough biker friends, spotlights glaring down on him and his shiny black leathers, his feet concealed in a thick gray stage fog, an audience eagerly awaiting him. The twenty-six year old red Doberman, the lead singer of his band "Hard Times", listened to the host of the late night show introduce them to his television audience.

Hard Times was an unorthodox juxtaposition of rough biker guys who sang a soulful blend of hard rock, metal, and rhythm and blues. The six members of Hard Times, Ronnie Samson, Colt Janssen, Adam Stein, Todd Kennedy, and brothers Killian and Eddy Halen, were all Hells Angels, and made no secret of it, with their black leathers all proudly patched with the insignia of the infamous biker group. They were tough looking fellas with long hair, tattoo sleeves, leathers, chains, and rings. But their music was a smooth, ballsy blend of genres, and Ronnie's voice perfectly matching for it.

Getting into position, Ronnie took his place front and center, a leather gloved paw running through his long locks of semi-curly, dark brown hair that flowed down to his mid-back. A well trimmed chinstrap beard and goatee graced his muzzle, and blue eyes peered out to an excited audience. Ronnie wore pointed leather boots, snug black leather pants, and his open leather jacket with nothing beneath. The sleeves were pushed up some, revealing his tattoo sleeves that ran to his wrists. His chest and stomach were tattooed up as well, his stomach having a black nautical star tattooed around his navel.

Ronnie felt on top of the world. Hard Times had just released a second album, and it was climbing up in the charts as they aggressively toured to promote it. He was making great money, and could afford a nice condo in his hometown of Chicago, with his girlfriend Misty, and their infant son, Colt Samson. It was in contrast to his humble, blue collar roots as the only son of a garage mechanic. He felt proud to be able to help support his aging dad, David Samson, who sat in the audience crowd with a bunch of other Angels, excited to see their own on stage. Ronnie followed the footsteps of his father and grandfather, both Angels.

"I gotta tell you, these guys make me relive my teenage years!" the host of "Late Night Chicago Tonight!" exclaimed. "They have the most beautiful sound- a fusion of metal, hard rock, and rhythm and blues that's just... a masterpiece. Ladies and gentlemen! HARD TIMES!"

Running forward, Ronnie felt the energy of the cheering crowd as the music started. With a confident grin on his face, Ronnie sang a cover of a Peter Criss song, "Good Times". His belting voice had a rasp to it, fitting perfectly with their genre.

"For the good times everybody have a cheer

My baby said goodbye last night

For the good times everybody have a cheer

Everything's gonna be alright tonight"

Supporting Ronnie was his band mates. Thrashing away at their guitars were Killian Halen and Todd Kennedy. Killian was a burly white and gray malamute with icy blue eyes, aged twenty-eight. Long locks of sweaty brown hair clung to his face. Meaty, tattooed arms worked his red and blue Fender Stratocaster. Todd Kennedy was the oldest member of the band, at age thirty-six. A gray wolf with salt and pepper fur, and a short crop of brown hair, he played a sunburst Gibson Les Paul that sparkled in the glare of the spotlights. Drumming away behind them was Killian's middle brother, twenty-six year old Eddy Halen. Looking almost like a clone of Killian, Eddy drummed away, head banging with the tune, his sweaty long brown hair a mess atop his head. Adam Stein, a black and rust Doberman, the same age as Ronnie, played a large keytar, adding a synth backdrop. He was a lean Dober who had a long ponytail of black hair flowing down his backside. And playing bass was Colt Janssen, a twenty-nine year old Arctic wolf. Snow white fur contrasted to his straight black hair that flowed around his face. A blue and white Paisley pattern bandanna was tied around his forehead.

Ronnie stood out front and sang his heart out. His eyes briefly made contact with his Dad and the other Angels, who excitedly watched him. His Dad looked so proud of him, a smile permanently on his face. Ronnie grinned at him as he hit the high note at the end. The audience erupted in applause as Ronnie grinned for the cameras. He looked so collected and confident as he stepped back to his band, a paw running through his curly locks.

"Ronnie, baby! Holy crap!" grinned the host, a big burly Rottweiler. He spoke with a deep, Barry White like voice. "Ronnie Samson! How are you doing?"

"I am good thank you! Even better being on your show!" Ronnie laughed for the audience.

"So tell me a bit about your band! You guys have a phenomenal sound, and you're all bikers... Hells Angels, right?"

"Yeah, we're all from the same chapter here in Chicago." Ronnie explained. "We're all into bikes and stuff like that, and we also liked music as a side gig... and we all just kinda... came together."

Ronnie introduced his band mates to thunderous applause as the host greeted all of them.

"You sound like a cross between Kiss, Van Halen, and Little Caesar~"

"I guess that's just natural." Todd shrugged with a chuckle. "We didn't want to be pegged to just some general metal or hard rock band."

"We like to blend things together, do our own thing." Adam added in.

"That's why people don't know what to do when they see us all roaring in! People think we're comin' to throw down!" laughed Ronnie with a playful grin.

"I take it you've had a few bar fights?"

"A few~" laughed Ronnie. "But we don't make trouble unless someone wants trouble."

"Can't speak for other Angels, but that's just how we roll~" Colt shrugged. "We don't put the Hell in Hells Angels unless you wanna see us do it!"

"I'll save that for the back alley boys." Laughed the host. "So Ronnie, tell me? Why, and when did you become a Hells Angel?"

"Well, when I was twenty. My Dad's a well respected man in the organization, and my grandfather, Larry Samson, was one of the founders of the New York chapter of the Hells Angels." Explained the Dober.

"So a lot of family history then?"

"Yeah~" he smiled in response. "Like father like son."

"And I take it all of you have similar stories of why you joined?"

"Basically~ I wanted to be in a biker club, and why not be an Angel? Go big or go home~" Todd laughed. "Been an Angel for thirteen years!"

"And there you have it~ HARD TIMES! Everybody! We'll be back after this commercial break!"

Ronnie and everyone smiled and waved to the applauding audience as the show went to commercial.

Under the glare of the humming streetlights in the back of the studio, Ronnie and everyone packed their gear up into their Ford van. Assisted by their lighting and sound engineers, Lisa Milstein, and Sam Morton, the van was packed full of their gear, which took up not only the trailer, but the back half of the Econoline. Walking down the hallway, Ronnie carried part of Eddy's drum set, as his Dad carried the cymbals.

"That was one hell of a show son!" David said excitedly. He was a black and tan Doberman, in his mid-fifties, with a graying mop of hair atop his face. He wore his biker vest proudly, having been a member since the early 1980's.

"Thanks, Dad~ I really appreciate it!" smiled Ronnie. "Sometimes I can't believe we made it."

"I'm very proud of you~" David said to him with an encouraging pat on his back. "I wish your Mom would have stuck around to see you succeed..."

"...her loss." Ronnie shrugged.

"Well son, I hope you have a good night~" David said as he hopped onto his bike, a 1990 Harley Fatboy. He shoved his helmet atop his head and got it ready to go.

"Good night Dad!"

"Night son!" David waved as he fired up his loud motorcycle and took off into the night. Ronnie watched him leave as he shoved Eddy's bass drum into the cramped trailer.

"Another successful show on this god forsaken tour." Laughed Killian. "Tomorrow... Sioux Falls..."

"Long ass drive to South Dakota..." Colt shook his head. "Who the fuck schedules this shit."

"Our bumbling promoters..." Ronnie rolled his eyes. "I would have done it with stops in Illinois, through Iowa to get there... but nooooooooo..."

"Oh c'mon, Ronnie, they pay them the big bucks to fuck shit up!" grinned Eddy with a laugh.

"What the fuck do you know, Eddy Van Halen?" teased his brother.

"More than our fucking promoter!" Eddy laughed.

"Ha! Yeah." Killian chuckled.

"Well you boys have a good night~" Lisa said to them, as she gave her boyfriend Eddy a kiss goodnight. "I'll see you back at the house~"

"Will do~" Eddy grinned as he gave her a kiss in return.

"Yeah, it's getting late... and I gotta drive this fucker... See ya everyone."

"Night, Ronnie~" Colt and everyone said as he hopped onto his Harley. Lisa and Sam took the Econoline with them, the big gray van slowly burbling out with the squeaky trailer behind it. Ronnie fired up his chopper and took off loudly into the night.

Chicago's streets were brightly lit at night as Ronnie made his way home to Avondale. He was originally from Queens, New York, but his father moved the family to Chicago in 1995, when he was four years old, following his career as a mechanic. The windy city was where he grew up at and called home. His motorcycle loudly echoed amongst the concrete jungle as he finally returned home, well after midnight.

Returning back to his nice condominium, Ronnie pulled under the parking overhang, where his fancy new sports car sat. Hopping off his bike, he took a moment to admire his cherry red 370Z that was all decked out. He was living the success he had once only dreamed.

Stepping back inside, he found his girlfriend Misty cradling a sleeping Colt in her arms. Misty was a red Doberman with locks of light brown hair permed up into a bun atop her head. She held one year old Colt, who looked like a spitting image of Ronnie, but with very light brown hair, almost blonde. Misty was a groupie Ronnie had met during the tour of their first album. He instantly fell in love with her, and ultimately got her pregnant with his son. She was a beautiful gal a few years younger than him, and he hoped to marry her once the tour was completed, to have the family he always wanted.

"Hey~" smiled Ronnie.

"I saw your concert and that was amazing." Misty complimented.

"When you're good, you're good!" teased the Dober with a grin. "But I think it's time for bed~"

"Get yourself cleaned up and get some shut eye before you head out to South Dakota tomorrow!"

"Our idiot promoters..." chuckled Ronnie as he gave Misty a kiss.

"Makes no sense~" Misty shook her head sarcastically as Ronnie gently picked up his sleeping son. Ronnie held young Colt and just smiled at him as he slept in his jammies. The day he was born was the happiest day in Ronnie's life. And he wanted to be the best father in the world to his son, just as his father had been for him growing up. Ronnie gently carried Colt to his crib, and laid him on his back and covered him up. He gave the top of his head a gentle stroke before going to get changed out of his leathers.

Misty leaned against the doorframe as Ronnie got changed into a pair of boxers and a tanktop for bed. "One of these days, that record company is gonna get you or someone in your band killed..."

"Gotta do what you gotta do." Ronnie admitted. "I'm just hoping that van holds up for the trip."

"Overloaded van, six hour drive..." Misty shook her head. "They got all the money to make you guys have an easier time..."

"It is what it is~" Ronnie shrugged. "I'll sleep on it~"

"Heh, okay." Smiled Misty.

Ronnie hopped into his bed and felt instantly relaxed at how comfortable it felt. As Misty turned the final light off, Ronnie rolled onto his side and fell into a deep, spent, sleep.

After attending a morning photo shoot, Ronnie and the gang soon watched Chicago slip away as they drove north-west, enroute to South Dakota, six hours away. Ronnie sat behind the wheel of his underpowered and overloaded Econoline 350, which burbled down I-90. The van was twenty years old, and looked somewhat beat up, with the clear coat fading in places on the gray paint. "HARD TIMES" was stenciled on the doors in black spray paint. Colt Janssen sat in the front passenger seat, while the first row of the backseat was Killian, Adam, and Todd. The second row of the backseat was Eddy and his girlfriend Lisa, plus Sam. They were crammed in the back with all their gear that went all the way to the ceiling. While Ronnie drove, Colt, Adam, and Killian discussed some ideas for future songs for their third album.

"I think one song should be called 'my promoter is a fucking dumbass'" chuckled Colt with a smirk. "How they scheduled this motherfucker is retarded."

"Yeah." Todd shook his head. "Pat's a stupid momo."

Ronnie heard his cellphone go off, and the Dober reached down to grab it out of the cup holder. "Oh look... speak of the muddafucker."

"Oh boy..." chuckled Todd.

"'Sup, Pat?" Ronnie asked as he put the phone on speaker.

"Hey Ronnie! Good news~ I just got four other venues to book you guys! Isn't that great?"

"Where are they at?" Ronnie asked.

"Are they along our route to South Dakota that your dumbass screwed up?" Colt asked sarcastically.

"Well... two are... one's in Louisville... and the other Nashville."

"Oh my fucking god... Pat... god damnit~" Ronnie grunted. "How the hell are we gonna hit all those sites!"

"What? You guys wanted to go on tour and-"

"I said we were going to hit the six sites that we had scheduled, then come back, take a few days off, and then head another direction- that is what we agreed on."

"I know, I know, but this is gonna rake in big bucks! Just smile and think about the money!"

"You're not the one having to drive this bucket of bolts hundreds of miles a day and then sing and get shit ready!"

"Hey don't blame me, this is what you guys wanted."

Killian reached forward and grabbed Ronnie's phone. "Hey Pat! Wanna know what I think of that?"

Killian stuck the phone to his rear and farted in it, much to the laughter of everyone as he hung up.

"Gee! Thanks!" Ronnie exclaimed as he grabbed his phone from his friend. "Now I gotta wipe the fucking fart particles off it!"

"Fucking Kentucky and Tennessee?" Colt rolled his blue eyes. "Jesus Christ..."

"Is this van gonna even make it?" Adam chuckled. "Remember the last time we drove that far, the water pump blew up."

"Well hopefully this new one I installed will hold..."

"Hopefully we can get a new van!" Todd exclaimed.

"Well if we can all chip in some money, I'm sure we can replace this old bucket of bolts." Colt figured.

"Fuckin' pedophile van~" laughed Eddy.

"Eddy it's not white~" Killian teased.

"FREE CANDY!" the malamute sarcastically grinned.

"Smile and think about the money..." Ronnie chuckled.

Traveling along I-90 with traffic, Ronnie eventually hopped off around Rockford to take Route 20, to detour around a bad car accident. Passing around the south of Rockford, Route 20 became a two lane country road, cutting through the empty, flat, Illinois countryside. Colt kept an eye on navigation with the GPS on his phone, and others continued to muse about their music plans and their upcoming gigs along their tour. The next significant town they'd pass through would be Freeport, and Ronnie suggested that they stop and grab lunch there.

Seeing flashing police lights in the distance, Ronnie put his foot on the brake and slowed to a crawl, as they came upon another bad car accident, which closed the road.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Ronnie grumbled. "Everyone's just crashing today~"

"Fourth car wreck we've seen..." Todd shook his head. The detour took them to South Springfield Road, another rural road that cut through the countryside. Heading south for several miles, Ronnie found that Lamm Road was closed for repaving, forcing him to go further to Airport Road.

"If you keep going on Airport, it'll loop back to Lamm and that'll take you to Baileyville, and back into Freeport." Colt pointed out.

"Waste of fucking time..." Ronnie grunted. Just as he pushed his foot into the gas to command more power, Ronnie heard a loud bang under the hood. The van shuddered and steam began to shoot out from under the hood.

"What the fuck!?" Ronnie and Colt muttered.

"Oh shit!" Adam and Eddy both shouted.

Turning the wheel, Ronnie limped his dying Ford into the parking lot of the Albertus Airport. Trailing fluids behind them, the van finally came to grief in the corner of the parking lot. Ronnie shut the engine off and popped the hood switch as he jumped out.

"I bet it's the damn water pump again!" Ronnie grunted as he threw the hood open. Steam gushed out and he waved some of it away. "Yep... the pump blew up..."

Everyone jumped out of the van to see for themselves. Ronnie cursed about buying a pump he had pulled out of a junked Econoline. The red Dober looked over at all the coolant that was spilled out.

"This tour is going great!" teased Eddy.

Noticing the van throwing steam out, one of the airport's mechanics came rolling up in a golf cart. A brown and gray timber wolf in his early thirties, he pulled up and hopped out to see what was going on.

"Looks like you're having some trouble!" greeted the wolf in a friendly voice.

"Just another headache on our tour!" laughed Ronnie. "How do ya do?"

"Fine? Dare I ask how your day is going?" the wolf joked as he shook paws with the Dober. "Name's Hank."

"Ron Samson."

"Ron, nice to meet you! So where are ya'll heading to?"

"Well, we got a gig in Sioux City that we gotta get to for tomorrow... and this just threw a huge wrench into it!"

"I can take ya'll to the Napa in town if you need a new part!"

"Yeah, we're gonna need a new water pump... and a serpentine belt too." Colt told the mechanic.

Also noticing the commotion, an older pilot came walking over. "Heya! What's going on here? Something looks like it blew up!"

"Yeah!" Killian laughed.

"Who's the ringleader of this operation?" teased the older black wolf.

"That'd be me. Ron Samson, lead singer for Hard Times~" Ronnie greeted. He shook the older wolf's paw.

"You can just call me Crazy Lenny!"

"Why crazy?" Todd asked him.

"Lenny's been putting together this old DC-3... and he's crazy enough to fly it."

"Hey! She's a beauty!" Lenny laughed. "Where are ya'll headed to?"

"Sioux City." Colt spoke up.

"Oh really? Well I gotta take my old Skytrain up there to pick up some parts... so I can offer you guys a ride!"

"Oh really?" Ronnie responded, looking surprised.

"Yeah! It's no big deal. What do ya'll have?"

"Lighting and stage gear, instruments, our personal gear." Killian explained.

"Well let's throw it onboard and we can fly on out."

Ronnie looked at everyone with surprise; they got a big break after a hectic morning.

On the tarmac sat an old DC-3. The old propliner looked tired and worn out in a scruffy white paint scheme. The bare metal wings were lusterless, and the deicer boots on the leading edge worn and torn up in places. Both cowlings had some small dings and dents in them. Ronnie had some reservations about it, but it would significantly shave off hours of their time to get to South Dakota. The band mates came up with a plan: Eddy, Lisa, and Sam would fly with all their gear to Sioux City, and rent a U-Haul to haul it to the venue, while the others stayed back to work on the van. If all went according to plan, they would still make the schedule.

Loading their gear into the plane, they filled the cabin with all the boxed and crated gear. Musical instruments, lighting, audio equipment was carried aboard and tied down, or secured with netting against the cabin walls. Lenny worked on getting his flight paperwork ready, and the fuel truck finished up topping off the plane's fuel tanks.

"I'm a little nervous about this..." Adam privately said to Ronnie as they watched Lisa and Sam climb aboard.

"It looks old... but... the feds certainly wouldn't let it fly if it was unsafe..." Ronnie shrugged. "This is gonna save precious time."

"Hopefully~" Adam grimaced with a morbid chuckle.

"Alrighty! I'm ready." Came Eddy. He pushed some long locks of hair out of his face as he left the airport terminal, carrying a bag of snacks with him.

"Eddy! Make sure you don't fuck up the hotel reservations..." his brother teased. "Not like you could fuck a wet dream up!"

"Hey! Fuck you too Killian!" teased Eddy, who playfully shoved his brother. "I hope your ole' van breaks down again!"

"Yeah?" laughed Killian. "Well I hope your ole' airplane blows up in your face!"

"Alrighty! Mister Eddy? You ready?" came Lenny as he tucked his clipboard under his arm.

"Sure am! Let's do this!"

Ronnie and everyone walked back to the perimeter fence and watched as Eddy climbed aboard the DC-3 with Lenny. The cargo door was sealed shut, but not before Eddy jokingly flipped them off. Ronnie grinned and returned the favor as they all shared a laugh.

Watching with curious interest, Ronnie leaned against the fence as the big radial engines were turned over. With a hacking cough of smoke, the starboard engine fired up first, followed by the port engine, which coughed a big belch of oily blue smoke. The chocks were released, and the beat up looking Skytrain began to slowly roll for the airport. Ronnie, Todd, Adam, Killian, and Colt all waved as they watched Eddy, Lisa, and Sam depart. Within a few minutes, the DC-3 roared into the air in a slow climb.

"C'mon, let's get that new water pump." Colt said, patting Ronnie on the shoulder.

"Sure~" Ronnie nodded. As he turned to walk towards Hank's truck, he glanced back around to watch the DC-3 slowly climb away, spewing a faint exhaust trail behind it. It soon disappeared from view into the heavy July haze.

Ronnie hopped into the truck with Hank and Colt, who gave them a ride to the local auto parts store. Adam, Killian and Todd, stayed back to watch the van.

"This is livin' the rock star dream~" Ronnie chuckled.

"I thought that was beautiful women and partying hard." Colt grinned.

"More like blood, sweat, and tears... mostly blood." Ronnie laughed as he sat back with his arms crossed.

Five Years Later

2022.

Sometimes Ronnie could still hear the screaming fans, and the throbbing energy of a live performance. Now it seemed like such a long time ago, a faint, distant memory in the back of his mind. A happier time, before the tragedy and financial ruin. Success was right there, it was so close. The band was at the cusp of success when it all came crashing down.

The sound of a buzzer brought Ronnie back to the present. Exhausted, bloodshot eyes opened to see that the wings in the fryer were done. The Doberman grabbed the basket handle and took the wings out to dump them into the mixing bowl with the sauce. Wearing a grease splattered apron over his loosely collared, white uniform, Ronnie was reduced to a lowly cook at a biker bar. The days of singing to screaming fans, giving interviews, and touring with his friends were over after Eddy, Lisa, and Sam were killed in the crash of the DC-3 in July 2017. In the five years since, Ronnie lost practically everything.

Shoving his fingers into a pair of clear plastic gloves, Ronnie mixed the wings into the sauce, and doled them out into the serving baskets. He quickly ripped the sauce covered gloves off and threw them into the trash.

"Trish! Here ya go!" Ronnie shouted over the blare of music and the television. The waitress quickly grabbed them and thanked Ronnie as she went to go serve patrons. Ronnie breathed a slow sigh and looked at the clock, which struck eleven o'clock at night. Another two hours to go. Giving his head a shake, Ronnie adjusted his long ponytail, his semi-curly locks looking oily from the hot, greasy kitchen. He fixed his hair net and went to wash his paws in the big sink. Drying them off on a towel, Ronnie went back to cooking.

After cooking hamburgers on the griddle, Ronnie took a much needed break. He took his apron off and hung it on a hunk as he left out the back door to cool off. Under the glare of a humming light, Ronnie leaned against the wall of the brick building and caught his breath. It was mid April in Chicago, and the cool air felt good. The glow of the downtown's skyscrapers twinkled off in the distance. Ronnie sat down on the pavement with his back against the building, taking the time to think about things.

Everything in his life literally felt like it crashed when the plane blew up over Iowa, killing drummer Eddy, and Lisa and Sam, their lighting and sound engineers. While the feds never conclusively figured out what exactly went wrong, the fuel system to the old and tired plane was the most likely suspect. The record company blamed them for the fatal crash, and dropped them as a client. To add insult to injury, to pay for the lawsuits, Carson Records took all their royalties, copyrights, everything, away from them. Hard Times was forced to disband. Ronnie found himself being sued by the record company, the family of Crazy Lenny, and the parents to Killian and Eddy. They all tried to pin the blame on him. Legally defending himself depleted his life savings, and Ronnie was forced to declare bankruptcy. While the suites were ultimately dismissed, the damage had been done. The comfy condo he once owned, the nice sports car he zipped around in, were taken away from him. While his friendship with Killian was unaffected, to the rest of the Halen family, he was a persona non grata. From living the high life, Ronnie was reduced to a rundown apartment in a rough part of Chicago, living barely paycheck to paycheck. It was now just him and his young son, Colt.

Just when he thought things couldn't get any worse, his girlfriend Misty died in early 2019. She was just a few months away from turning twenty-five when she died of a heroin overdose. When Ronnie had met her, he helped clean her up and wean her off drugs, especially when she found out she was pregnant. After losing everything, Misty relapsed back into doing heroin, despite Ronnie's pleas and warnings. She was found dead in her car in the parking lot of her workplace. It was a terrible, bitter loss to Ronnie, who genuinely loved her. He wanted to marry her and have a family with her. And drugs took it all away. Her family, who never particularly cared for biker Ronnie and his lifestyle, never stayed in touch. Ronnie was left to raise his son on his own, with the help of his Dad, until tragedy struck again in 2020 when his father passed away from Covid-19.

They had gone to a motorcycle rally, thinking being outdoors would be safe. They all fell ill with Covid a few days after the rally. While Ronnie and Colt were largely okay, David Samson became gravely ill and was rushed to the hospital and put on a ventilator. He died two weeks later, saddling a devastated Ronnie with a massive medical and funeral bill, and with little way to pay for it. To just make ends meet, Ronnie worked long hours at the bar, covering shifts, and taking extra hours whenever he could. He was largely exhausted, and the exhaustion showed on his face with the dark bags under his eyes. He also just barely kept his head above the water by generosity from his fellow Angels. It seemed that since that fateful day five years before, it had been bad news, after bad news, after bad news. The Dober felt like he just could never get a break, but he could never give up either.

After collecting himself and cooling off, Ronnie went back inside the hot kitchen and donned his apron again. He washed his paws and dried them off and was starting to prepare another order of burgers, when his boss stepped inside. Paul Buford, a family friend of his late Dad's, owned the biker bar. A big gray wolf and former Hells Angel himself, Paul was fond of Ronnie, and did what he could to take care of the down-on-his-luck son of his late friend.

"Hey Ronnie, you got a phone call~" Paul said to him. "I'll take care of this!"

"Thanks, Paul~" Ronnie said with a mustered smile as he stepped outside the kitchen. There were still a few guys around, playing pool, awaiting food. Ronnie grabbed the old corded Bell telephone behind the counter, the handset resting on the table.

"Hello? This is Ron~"

"Ronnie! Hey it's Alice."

"Oh hey! How is Colt?"

"He is sleeping like a baby. He's all pooped out from playing with his friends after school."

"How was school?"

"It was quite well~ Colt got a very nice grade for his art drawing he did for school."

"Oh that's awesome. Well I appreciate you babysitting. I'll be home in an hour or so."

"Not a problem Ronnie, you have a good night. Everything's locked up."

"Thanks, Alice. Goodnight~"

"Oh Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"I got that birthday gift you wanted to give to Colt...I have it wrapped up and stowed in the closet."

"You're a saint~"

"You are too, Ronnie. Have a good night!"

"Thanks. You too."

Ronnie hung the phone back up. For a moment, a content smile was on his face. It faded when he returned to work in the kitchen. As he went to wash his paws again, his boss walked up to him.

"Ronnie you've outdone yourself again this week." Paul complimented. "I want you to go home and get some shuteye. You look dead tired~"

"I am dead tired."

"You've only worked sixty-five hours!" Paul chuckled. "Look... I don't want to kill you... so why don't you take tomorrow off and have the weekend to relax and spend time with your son, and it'll be on me."

"Oh my- thank you, Paul. This means a lot to me."

"You're a good man, Ronnie~ You earned it."

Changing out of his work uniform, Ronnie stuffed his greasy, smelly clothes into a grocery bag, and departed for home in his leathers. His Hells Angels vest, proudly patched on the front and back, was worn over his long sleeved leather jacket, which kept him warm. Hopping onto his late father's Fatboy, Ronnie fired it up and took off for home, fifteen minutes away. Through the night, Ronnie rumbled through the almost empty streets, on his way home to Brighton Park, Chicago.

Ronnie returned home to a rough looking apartment complex. "Brighton Oasis" was four buildings sheathed in weathered brown and tan siding, built around a courtyard that sported a basketball court. Ronnie still didn't see where the "oasis" was. Sodium lights cast an orange glow on all the buildings as Ronnie rolled in and parked beside his broken down Civic. A far cry from the fast 370Z he once owned, the little faded red Civic was his "beater with a heater" that needed a new starter to work again. He threw the kickstand down and climbed off his Dad's bike. He missed the chopper he once owned; it was accidentally destroyed when an out of control sedan smashed into it at a store. But he was honored to have his late father's Fatboy, his most cherished possession.

Unlocking the front door and stepping inside, Ronnie flipped the switch to turn on the floor lamp. The switch hummed and made an uncomfortable pop sound. His apartment didn't look much better than the outside of the building. The warm glow of the lamp revealed a cramped living room that was roughly a square, open to the kitchen. Everything was beige and gray colored. In one corner, Ronnie had his laptop and some audio gear lying about, including his acoustic guitar leaning against the desk. He had a small television on the wall, and a gray glider chair in front of it. Ronnie slept on an old fold out couch that was tan. There was a bathroom, and his son's bedroom.

Going to check on his son, Ronnie quietly opened the bedroom door, and watched the fading light gently fall on a sleeping Colt. His soon to be six year old son was a slender red Doberman, with tousled light brown hair and pointy cropped ears. He was sound asleep on his side, covered up in his space themed blanket. The sight brought a smile to Ronnie's exhausted face. Colt meant the world to him, and he wanted to be the best father ever to him. He was all Colt had left. It kept Ronnie going when he worked the long exhausting hours at the bar. He had to be there for his son. Knowing he was safe, Ronnie gently closed the door shut and went to take his leathers off.

Stowing his vest and jacket in the closet, he saw at the floor, a wrapped present that his babysitter got for him. The box was wrapped in a balloon themed wrapping paper, complete with a bow. The Dober closed the door and took a seat on his chair to take his boots off. His feet felt like lead bricks. Kicking his boots aside, Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief and sat back in his chair. Exhaustion finally overwhelmed him, and heavy eyes finally fell shut. With the light still on, Ronnie fell asleep, his head slightly falling to the side, his long locks of hair spilling to the side.

As if his apartment couldn't remind him further of its dilapidated state, Ronnie stood in the shower, getting at best, a lukewarm stream of water. The scent of Old Spice filled his nostrils as he worked the lather into his long brown hair. The dreaded greasy feeling was soon gone as he rinsed it off in the tepid water. Grabbing a bar of pink soap, Ronnie scrubbed his lean body down as he got ready for his day off. Days off were mostly spent with his son, and doing chores. He always tried to make time to hang out with his friends and do a little music together. Even after all the years, the members of Hard Times still did music together.

Pushing the dripping wet curtain aside, Ronnie stepped out onto the mat and grabbed a towel to dry himself off. He wrapped it around his waist and walked over to grab the hair dryer. He plugged it into the wall and turned it on full blast to clear the mirror and then turned it onto his hair. Armed with a brush in his other paw, he blow dried his hair while brushing it. His hair always had a slight curl to it midway down his locks. Flipping it back, the Dober stowed his hair dryer away on the shelf and removed the towel around him and hung it back up to try on the hook. Stopping to take a look at himself in the mirror, Ronnie did a sarcastic pose and laughed on the inside.

He was always a lanky guy, a slender, but toned guy, who's chest and arms were tattooed up. He had a nautical star around his navel, to reflect his grandfather's service in the US Navy. A happy trail of dark brown hair led to his well trimmed pubes, and dangling between his legs, his soft, flaccid member. He wasn't particularly hung, but was thick and cut. What always stood out, for the ladies, and the men, was the silver Prince Albert that protruded from the head, a curved barbell piercing. Ronnie got it in his early twenties, and it always sealed the deal when picking up the groupie, or the guy from the app. All the sex in his twenties were now replaced by forced celibacy in his thirties; it had been quite a while since he had gotten laid. Work left him too exhausted and disinterested to pursue anyone. Being an openly bi guy in an infamous outlaw biker group made for a complex tip-toe, but his father and grandfather's legacy and respect made him almost untouchable in the Angels.

After taking a minute to gauge his looks, Ronnie threw his fresh clothes back on. A black tanktop, a pair of blue boxer shorts, and black gym shorts with white stripes on the sides. He stepped out of the steam choked bathroom to find Colt looking at something in the fridge.

"Hey what's goin' on lil' man?" Ronnie asked as he saw Colt holding the jug of milk.

"Dad, I think something's wrong with the milk..." Colt said to him. He spoke with a soft, innocent sounding voice.

Ronnie grabbed the jug from Colt and took a sniff of it, which he immediately recoiled at its sour scent. "Oh yeah... that's bad..." Sticking his paw into the fridge, he found that it wasn't cold. Everything inside had gone bad too. "Well... that's that for the fridge..."

"Oh no..." frowned Colt.

"How about some P-B and J's?" Ronnie suggested.

Sitting down at the table, Ronnie and Colt had breakfast together over some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

"This reminds me of my childhood right here!" Ronnie remarked. "Mom used to make me the best peanut butter and jelly sandwich. She'd use blueberry jelly, and it was great."

"I like grape!" smiled Colt.

"Grape's good too~" chuckled Ronnie. "I heard you got a great grade on your art project!"

"Yes!" Colt exclaimed. "Misses Parsons loved my apple tree I drew!"

"Awesome!"

"How was work, Dad?"

"Oh, it was there." Ronnie said in a deadpan tone. "Cook, cook, cook, and clean!"

"Just like home!"

"See? You're catching on." Laughed Ronnie. "Enjoy being a kid. I'd love to be a kid again. It was a simpler time."

"Ah."

"I remember spending all my time with my friends. We'd ride our bikes and play sports all day until the sun went down. It was a great time. Now it's just work, work, and more work!"

"Adulting!" Colt grinned.

"Which reminds me! Because someone has a birthday today!"

"Me!" Colt exclaimed.

"Here! I got you something bud!" Ronnie said as he went to go fetch Colt's present. He jokingly hid it by shoving it under his tanktop. "Last night I got you a present! But I got a lil' hungry... and I accidentally ate it..."

Ronnie turned around to see the package protruding out as a giant square under his tanktop. Colt had a look of playful shock on his face and pointed. "Dad! It's in your belly!"

Ronnie faked a shocked expression and then a grin. "Assistant! Scalpel!"

Colt jumped up from his chair and jokingly handed his Dad an invisible scalpel. Ronnie jokingly moaned and groaned as he forced the package out from under his tanktop, which landed on the ground with a thump. Colt immediately tore the gift wrap open and squealed excitedly at getting a Lego set.

"YAY!"Colt cheered. He ran over and gave his Dad a tight hug. "Thank you, Dad!"

"Happy Birthday lil' man~" Ronnie smiled as he hugged him tightly. "Love you, lil' Colty!"

"Love you too, Dad!"

It was a pleasantly mild Saturday, with the bright sun high in the clear cyan sky. Kids from the apartment complex played basketball as Colt helped his Dad change the starter out in their beat up Civic. Colt held some tools while Ronnie was hunched over the engine, unbolting the old unit and tossing it aside. He grabbed the new starter from the box and hooked it back up.

"Flathead, please~"

Colt handed his Dad the flathead screwdriver in his grip. He soon exchanged it for a Philips head, and then the socket wrench again. Colt watched with great interest as his Dad bolted on the starter.

"Let's give this a try." Ronnie said as he brushed some dust off his tanktop. He walked over and reached in through the open window to turn the key over. The Civic groaned a bit and started up, to Colt's excitement.

"Alright, Dad!" Colt cheered. "You did it!"

"See? I still got it." Grinned the Dober playfully.

"Now let's fix the AC!" Colt grinned.

"Whoa there..." laughed Ronnie as he shut his car off. "Let's not get too carried away!"

"You can fix anything!" Colt exclaimed.

"Almost!" laughed Ronnie as he put his arm around his son. "And you're a big help too, my lil' assistant."

"Yay!"

"Ronnie! Ronnie!" came the energetic voices of the other kids. Colt's friends came running over to greet him. "How are you doing, Ronnie?"

Greeting all the kids, Ronnie decided to go take a break and play some basketball with everyone. All the kids at the apartment complex loved Ronnie, and in a way, Ronnie loved all of them too. Being a father gave him a soft spot for kids. It transformed his whole life when Colt was born. After five years of tragedy after tragedy, headaches and setback, Ronnie lived for his son's sake. Had he not been born? Ronnie could see himself dead, or going down some dark path in the criminal underworld. Colt gave him meaning to his life. As they played basketball, Ronnie took notice of one of Colt's friends, a withdrawn young little gray wolf, named Zack Brown. Zack was Colt's age, and always looked shy and withdrawn, rarely playing with the group. He came from the apartment across from his, and Ronnie had a hunch that it was a broken family. His parents were often heard fighting, and Zack always had a bruise of some sort on him. Colt always said that Zack "had an accident" to explain the bruises. Ronnie felt a hint of sadness at the shy little kid. Colt went over to see him and got him to play basketball with them.

After an hour of basketball, Ronnie and Colt went to go do their weekend chores. Despite feeling tired and worn out, Ronnie wanted to get laundry and bill paying out of the way, so he could relax and get on with his time off. Grabbing their basket of dirty clothes, they jumped into the faded red Civic and took off. Ronnie stopped at the bank first to deposit his paycheck and then went to pay his electric and internet bill, groaning along the way. Stopping at the Laundromat a few blocks away, Ronnie and Colt sat down to watch the laundry slowly spin and be cleaned in the industrial washers stacked atop of each other. Colt read a children's book as his Dad glanced at his phone.

"So Dad? What are we going to do about the fridge?" Colt asked curiously.

"Oh, I'll figure something out." Ronnie said, mustering a smile. "If there's a will there's a way!"

"Yeah!" Colt exclaimed happily.

"It's just... a minor headache... on top of other headaches." Laughed the dog. "But I'm used to that. A lot's happened that I've overcome."

"I wish Grandpa was still here... He'd help us." Colt frowned. "I miss Grandpa."

"I miss Grandpa too~" Ronnie nodded. "Me and him have gone through a lot, especially after Mom left."

"Do you ever miss Grandma?" Colt asked curiously.

"Sometimes I think about her, but it seems so distant now. It was almost twenty years ago when I last saw her." Ronnie explained.

"I wonder why she just went away?"

"I ask that question too." Ronnie responded as he glanced up to check on the washer.

"...I wish I knew my Mom..." Colt frowned. "She passed away when I was three!"

"Your Mom was a wonderful person. She was the most wonderful, beautiful woman alive! And I had the honor to love her." Ronnie smiled. "She just... had a problem... and the problem took her life."

"Wow." Colt responded.

"None of us are perfect, sadly. We're all flawed in our own unique and beautiful way!" Ronnie assured.

"But I got the most beautiful and perfect son in the world!"

"That's me!" Colt grinned.

"Yeah!" laughed Ronnie. "And someone has a birthday party to go to later!"

"Oh boy!"

"We only get to be six years old once~" chuckled Ronnie. "Then you wake up and you're my age... thirty one~"

"Old!"

"Hey, hey!" Ronnie exclaimed. "Not old! Seasoned!"

Colt giggled and laughed with his Dad. They kept each other company with their jokes and conversations as their laundry got washed and dried. Taking everything back home, Ronnie paid his rent before they got ready for Colt's birthday party, which would be at the chapter's clubhouse.

Colt stepped out first from the apartment, wearing a miniature set of black leathers and a white helmet atop his head. Ronnie helped him onto his Fatboy and he climbed on, telling Colt to hold onto him as he started his bike up. Father and son took off for the clubhouse.

Their clubhouse was an old brick factory near the Central Manufacturing District. Three stories tall and taking up half a block, the old facility was fenced off in places, complete with barbed wire. Windows were dark and shielded by iron bars. Security cameras peered around all corners. The building bore the insignia of the Chicago chapter of the Hells Angels, and made no secret of their location.

Rolling up with a deep burble, Ronnie and Colt pulled up to the parking in the front of the clubhouse, where dozens of other bikes sat parked at. Throwing the kickstand down, Ronnie climbed off and helped Colt get down. Putting arm around his son, Ronnie showed him the door as they went inside.

Immediately inside was the lounge area. Walls that were painted with flames contrasted to the shiny hardwood floor, and low beamed ceilings where Tiffany lamps glowed. Some photos of retired and since passed away Angels graced the flame adored walls, and a large TV was hung up over a just as large brick fireplace. At the far end there was a bar and some booths where some bikers sat at conversing with each other. There were some arcade video games set up, and a pool table was where Ronnie found his long time friends and band mates together. Their kids ran around playing with each other, while Todd's older kids played Pac-Man on the arcade machine.

Five years after the accident that destroyed their band, they still regularly did music together, even if it went practically nowhere. Colt, Todd, Adam, and Killian were now joined by the youngest Halen brother, twenty-four year old Don. The well built white, gray, and black malamute looked like a spitting image of the late Eddy, complete with long medium brown hair that flowed all around his face. All of them were now a bit older, had families and children of their own, and established themselves into new careers.

Colt Janssen went to go work for his Dad, who owned two automotive warehouses for Ford. He had hired Killian onboard as well, and they assisted him in managing the two major parts fulfillment facilities. Todd, now forty-one, was one of the top Harley-Davidson salesmen in the state of Illinois. Adam worked at a credit union, and was one of the credit managers. Don was a service technician at a GM dealership. All of them fared better than Ronnie, who always felt that he had his head just barely above the water.

"'Sup!" Ronnie greeted with a grin.

"Hey!" everyone said as they paused their game of pool.

"Hello!" Colt waved.

"Happy birthday, lil' man!" everyone cheered as all the bikers came to greet Colt.

"Lil' Colt! How's it going?" grinned the Arctic wolf as he gave the young Dober a hug.

"I'm fine big Colt!" the young Dobie grinned.

"You didn't run anyone off the road did ya?" Janssen teased with a playful nudge. "Happy birthday, pal~ A lil' something from me and my old lady!"

"Thank you!" Colt exclaimed as he accepted a birthday card from his friend. The young Dober got birthday presents from the other Angels, as Todd presented a bright blue and white cake for him, with a number six candle glowing in the middle. Everyone sang "Happy Birthday" for an excited Colt, who clapped with them before blowing out the candle at the end. He got a round of applause as Ronnie grabbed a knife to cut the cake for everyone.

While Colt and the other kids played with each other in the courtyard in the back, Ronnie drank a beer with some of the guys while smoke billowed from a grill next to him. Ronnie cooked hamburgers and hotdogs on the grill for everyone.

"I cook at work, and I cook here. It's like I don't have a day off!" laughed Ronnie with a grin.

"Ahh, quit your bitchin'!" teased Todd with a laugh.

"Yeah, easy for you to say, huh, bankers hours?" Ronnie chuckled.

"Hey Ronno?" came Janssen. "Lil' Colt said your fridge took a shot on you?"

"Yeah... yeah... it finally did." Ronnie grumbled. "When it rains it pours, right?"

"Well, if you want, we could all chip in some money and..."

"No, no, I couldn't do that to you guys." Ronnie said, motioning with his paw. "You just gave my son like five hundred bucks, and I couldn't just leech money off you because I fucking suck."

"You're our best friend, Ronnie~" Colt said. "I hate seeing you in this position."

"It's just something I have to weather because nobody else wants to hire me for 'lack of job experience'."

"Yeah, that's fucking bullshit." The Arctic wolf rolled his eyes. "If we ever get another opening at the warehouse, I'll see about Dad bringing you aboard!"

"Well nobody quits because your Dad runs the place nicely!"

"Unfortunately." Chuckled Colt. "Shit rolls down hill right?"

"Yeah." Ronnie laughed. "I'll figure something out, Colt~."

Ronnie turned to flip some burgers, while Colt and Todd ran over to stop their kids from throwing bricks at each other.

"Hey, Ron~ Got a moment?"

Ronnie turned around to see fellow biker, Ryan Hawk, a burly black wolf with a thick black goatee and slicked back hair. Bright green eyes peered out from his jet black face. He wore chaps over a pair of jeans, and his vest over a black t-shirt.

"'Sup, Ryan~"

"Heard you've been having some financial troubles man?"

"Yeah, kinda. It is what it is." The Doberman shrugged.

"Look, uhh, I might be able to help you out man... I need another guy helping me with the hooker ring I got setup in Chicago and-"

"No... heh... sorry... no." Ronnie cut him off. "Gonna stop ya right there~"

"C'mon, why?" laughed the wolf. "I am making dough with the ladies and the desperate Johns!"

"No. I ain't sticking my dickbeaters into anything criminal." Ronnie shook his head.

"Think of the dough!"

"Think of me fucking up with that shit- and that'd be my luck!" Ronnie laughed cynically.

"Don't tell me you're getting all soft there, Samson!"

Ronnie slammed his spatula down. "Motherfucker... you don't get it, do you?" Ronnie glared at him with an annoyed gaze on his face. "I have too much to lose by doing illegal shit like that. No matter how much money I'd love to make..."

"What would you lose that you've already lost already?"

"My son?" Ronnie asked Ryan. He pointed at Colt running around, playing tag with his friends. He brushed some hair out of his face. "What's gonna happen to him if I go to jail, because that's exactly what's going to happen! You want him to be just another face in the system, man? 'Cause that's what's gonna happen."

"You just gotta be smarter than the pigs..."

"They're already breathing down my neck for wearing this vest..." Ronnie growled. "The answer is no."

The wolf crossed his burly arms and chuckled. "You really have gotten soft huh?"

"My Dad and my Grandpa were Angels... and both of them never did anything fucking stupid. Grandpa and Dad had at most like me... a speeding ticket."

"Well gee, goodie-goodie-two-shoes!" laughed Ryan and some of his friends.

"Laugh all you want fuckers... I'll have my chair when the music stops!"

"I'm just fucking with you, Ron~ Jesus." Chuckled Ryan as he patted Ronnie on the shoulder.

"Sorry... it's just... a tense time..."

"You care about your son. I'll respect that."

"I won't say anything either... in case you're worried..."

"I get it man~ Just relax."

Rumbling through the quiet evening streets, Colt held onto his Dad as they made their way home. With a backpack full of gifts, Colt looked content as he watched the scenery pass. Ronnie concentrated on driving.

"Well lil' man, did you have a nice birthday?" Ronnie asked over the wind noise.

"Yes!" Colt grinned. "I loved it!"

"Good~" smiled Ronnie. "I'm glad you liked it, because that's your day, lil' Colty!"

"I really liked the GI Joe figure Killian got me!"

"It'll go great on the shelf!" Ronnie chuckled. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a Chicago motorcycle cop sitting at a red light. As he passed through the intersection, Ronnie saw the cop take off and soon form up on his rear. Soon the sirens were pulsed at him and the lights flashed. Ronnie let off the throttle and pulled over to stop.

"Dad... what's happening?"

"It's okay Colt, just stay calm." Ronnie assured him as he stopped and put his kickstand down.

Hopping off the bike was a smug looking husky in his late twenties. The sable furred husky walked up in a slow pace, his shiny black boots clicking against the pavement. He wore a blue Chicago PD uniform with black pants, complete with holstered gun and cuffs that jingled with each step.

"Good evening, Officer!" Ronnie greeted. "How can I help you?"

"Mister Hells Angel... what's in the backpack there?" grinned the husky insincerely.

"Do you have a warrant for a search?" Ronnie asked.

"Well, no."

"Then I don't think it matters what's in my son's backpack~" Ronnie responded in a calm voice. "Now what can I do for you?"

Colt looked at the officer with nervous eyes.

"You guys think you're so clever and smart, when you know everybody sees through that shit." The officer pointed. "Off the bike, motherfucker."

"I think you are being out of line here..." Ronnie glared.

Looking slighted, the officer suddenly grabbed Colt by his jacket's collar and yanked him off. Colt flung forward and landed hard on the road. Ronnie immediately jumped off the bike, but froze when the cop pulled his gun at him.

"PAWS UP MOTHERFUCKER!" screamed the husky as he grabbed Colt and ripped the backpack off him.

"DAD! DAD!?" Colt screamed.

"Colty it's okay!" Ronnie said. "Please man, leave him out of it!"

"I know there's drugs and shit in the backpack!" screamed the officer as he ripped it off Colt and opened it. He grinned as he dumped everything onto the pavement, only to realize when he looked down that it was just some action figures and birthday cards. The smug grin was instantly replaced by an embarrassed, ashen look. Colt laid on the ground crying from being so scared. Ronnie kept his paws up as the officer lowered his gun.

"Oh... oh... my..." the husky stuttered. "Uhh... let me just put all of this away here..."

Ronnie's face grew cross as he watched the officer shove everything back into the backpack and zipped it up. He helped Colt up and gave him back his backpack. "Uhh... I think I... owe you an apology for this."

"What the fuck is your malfunction!?" Ronnie yelled, which got people to look over and see what was going on "You just threw my fucking kid onto the ground and dumped his backpack!"

"Sir, I'm sorry... there was an incident with some bikers earlier today and-"

"So that makes this right?" Ronnie asked him. He grabbed Colt and helped him back onto his bike. "You know what, motherfucker? It's pigs like you that deserve to get fucking shot!"

"Sure~"

"You do that to the wrong motherfucker with nothing to lose, and you're dead!" Ronnie pointed. He fired his bike back up, spat on the ground and peeled out. Smoking the tire on the pavement, he roared away, leaving the motorcycle cop to stand there watching with a look of regret on his face while onlookers stared at him.

"Dad, what happened?" Colt asked, the kid still looking very nervous.

"Some people think they got a badge and that lets them do anything they want. C'mon, let's go home, son~"

"Yeah."

Ronnie didn't want the incident with the cop to go any further. He wished it would just go away, but Ronnie soon found himself writing a statement out at his computer desk, while the Chief of Chicago's fourth precinct sat on the couch with Colt, consoling him over the incident. Someone who had witnessed the incident called and reported it, a well intended act now putting Ronnie under further police scrutiny that he didn't want. The Dober sat at his desk, jotting his statement down on a sheet of copy paper with a blue ballpoint. Ronnie wrote in neat, loopy cursive, which contrasted to his rough 'n tough looks. As he wrote, he listened to the Chief talk to Colt, and apologize about what had happened, hearing that "Officer Ryben is still somewhat new", and "has some past aggression issues". Words that made Ronnie roll his eyes in annoyance. As the Chief finished up talking to Colt, Ronnie signed his name at the bottom of the page, his full name of Ronald David Samson. He couldn't stand his formal name; "Ron" or "Ronnie" was always preferred.

"Mister Samson, if I may speak to you for a moment~" The Chief asked as he stepped outside. Ronnie stepped out back with him, the storm door creaking shut.

"Here is the statement that you wanted, Chief." Ronnie said in a mellow tone.

"Thank you." The older wolf nodded as he stowed it into his leather jacket. "My apologizes that your son was roughly treated like that, and we're looking into disciplinary actions."

"I mean I get it for me, but leave my kid out of it, ya know?"

"You wear a giant target on your back, Mister Samson."

"I think that's a bit of an unfair assessment don't you think?"

"You are part of an outlaw motorcycle gang, infamous for various criminality." The wolf glared behind his glasses. "Now I looked at your record, and you have nothing more than a speeding ticket... but don't think that does not make you a legitimate target for police inquiries over incidents..."

"It is what it is, Chief."

"Thank you for your time, Mister Samson. You have a good night."

"You too."

Ronnie watched the Chief leave, get back into his cruiser and take off into the night. Ronnie ran a paw through his long hair and went back inside to see Colt watching TV on the couch.

"You okay there, lil' man?"

"Yeah." Smiled Colt. "I am now."

"Look I'm sorry that happened, son." Ronnie apologized.

"That cop had a bad day..." Colt shrugged. "But why would he want to search my backpack? It's just birthday presents?"

"Because of me." Admitted his Dad. "The cops like to go after me because of the patches on my vest."

"Why?"

"Because there's guys who look like me who wear the same vest, and do stupid stuff in the name of being an outlaw, literally."

"Just like the cartoons!"

"Yeah! Kind of." Laughed Ronnie as he sat down beside Colt. "I'll explain it to you better when you get older~"

"Ah, okay!"

"I don't want to see you get hurt, lil' man~ That's all."

"If it don't kill you, it makes you stronger!" Colt grinned.

"Sort of!" laughed Ronnie as he put his arm around Colt and gave him an affectionate squeeze. "But you're catching on real quick~"

Colt got up and walked to his room, where he returned holding his pink piggy bank. "Dad, I decided that I want to give you my birthday money, so you can buy a new fridge!"

"Oh no, Colty, I could never do that! That's your money!"

"Well...we need a fridge... and I want to help!" Colt smiled. "I like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, just not every day!"

Ronnie sat up a bit on the couch. "Oh son... you're so thoughtful. Are you sure?"

"Yes." Smiled Colt as he held up his piggy bank.

Ronnie exhaled slowly. "I'll have to look at some prices and see what we can muster~"

Ronnie got up and hugged his son, who sat his piggy bank down and tightly hugged his Dad. "Love you Dad!"

"Love you, lil' Colty~"

After spending most of Sunday with his son, Ronnie went to the clubhouse to jam with his friends over some music and beers. Colt went with some of his friends to go visit the aquarium in the afternoon. Despite a hectic schedule, Ronnie tried to at least get a few hours of jam time in with his friends. They sat around, practiced music, pitched ideas, and worked on music, all with the idea of a future "comeback". Sometimes Ronnie thought about being back in the spotlight, singing his soul out for screaming fans, only to laugh at the idea as futile; the record company owned everything, including their band's name, as "punishment". When they did perform at gigs, they had to legally announce they were "The band formerly known as Hard Times". Legalese frustrated all of them.

Killian and Todd thrashed away on their guitars, as Don drummed away, the malamute headbanging to the tune. Colt shook his head a bit while plucking chords on his bass. Adam, taking a break from his keytar, worked an audio mixer that was hooked up to his laptop that was recording audio. An expensive pair of headphones were clamped onto his head. Ronnie stood with his video camera, capturing video to edit. When not needed, Ronnie liked to do the videography with his Sony Handycam.

Hitting the final chord, Killian jumped up and stuck his pose as he came down on his knees. Ronnie got the shot perfectly as Killian laughed, remarking that he was getting "too fucking old" at his knees aching.

"Careful, old fuck~" grinned Todd jokingly.

"I'll press your life alert!" Killian grinned.

"Yeah, that one!" Todd teased, pointing at his crotch as they all laughed.

"WHOO!" Don exclaimed. "I loved it."

"Yeah~" smiled Colt. "Fuckin' A jam session~"

"Now if we could just get our name from Carson!" Ronnie laughed in a jaded tone. Everyone laughed sardonically about the whole situation.

Killian adjusted his ponytail and sat his guitar down. "Yeah that'll be the day..." He proceeded to mock the voice of the company president. "I'LL MAKE SURE YOU FUCKS WILL NEVER PLAY A TUNE AGAIN!"

"Fuck that guy!" Colt laughed. "Stupid muddafucka!"

"He took everything from us..." Ronnie grunted. "All over an accident."

"Maybe this is a life lesson to not accept a plane ride on a unsafe looking plane..." Adam grimaced.

"...or from a guy named Crazy Lenny~" Don shook his head. "Poor Eddy."

"At least he died with a bang~" Killian joked with a chuckle. "Eddy didn't want to die a boring death..."

"Woo-hoo... mission accomplished..." Ronnie shook his head with a snicker at the end. "Your parents still hate my guts all these years later."

"Yeah." Killian admitted. "But that's their loss. They need to get over our brother's death sooner or later. It was an accident, and it was nobody's fault."

"Yeah. It was an accident." Don added with a shrug. "Enough sadness! Hey Ronnie! What if we sign up for this band contest I heard about?"

"Yeah? What do you think about it?" Killian asked the Dober.

"What contest?"

"My girlfriend's best friend's gay lover said that this gay bar is having some sing off contest where you could win up to a thousand bucks!"

"Oh yeah?"

"That's right up your alley~" Todd chuckled with a playful grin. Ronnie chuckled and gave him a smirk in return.

"I apparently am too scary for the boys~" Ronnie admitted with a laugh.

"Those twinks don't know what's missing!" teased Killian.

"Please." Laughed Ronnie.

"Gurlllllllllfriendddddddddddd~" Don teased with an effeminate voice and limp wrist at Ronnie who just grinned and flipped his friend off.

"Motherfuckers... all of you!" laughed Ronnie. "I'm bi, that's it~ Nothing special or exotic about it."

"You can fuck literally everything!" Don exclaimed.

"I don't think so, Don!"

"Shut the fuck up, Don." Laughed Colt, who shook his head. "But seriously, that sounds like a neat idea, what do you think, Ronnie?"

"I say, let's sign up for it." Ronnie agreed. "I could use a bit of extra money..."

"How's your fridge situation, Ronnie?" asked Adam as he adjusted the setting to a microphone.

"Not good!" Ronnie admitted. "I... might need to ask you guys for help~"

"Well of course!" Killian and Colt both said.

"Lil' Colt wants me to use his birthday money to help buy one, but I'm still short."

"Then let's all chip in some dough and help out then~" Don suggested.

"I appreciate you guys."

"And the best part is that you don't have to suck dick for it!" laughed Colt.

"THERE IT IS!" Ronnie laughed.

"Well it's true!"

"I wouldn't have time in my schedule to do that to save my life anyways." Ronnie shook his head. "You guys, I really appreciate it."

"That's what friends are for~" Colt started to say, when his phone went off. He grabbed it from his pocket, to find that it was his older brother, Kevin Janssen calling him. "Oh boy... what did fuckin' retard screw up now..."

Ronnie sat down and adjusted his t-shirt as he watched Colt answer his phone. His face immediately hardened into a serious look as he talked. "Are you fucking kidding me... alright! We're coming! Stay alive!"

Colt quickly hung up. "My brother is being chased by some fucking hick in a pickup truck!"

"What!?" Killian exclaimed.

"What's going on?" Adam asked.

"My brother is being chased on his fucking cruiser by some hick, and my fucking son is on the back of that bike!" Colt exclaimed. "C'mon!"

"Weapons locker, boys..." Ronnie motioned.

Ronnie ran upstairs to a closet, which inside held a huge gun safe. Unlocking it, the Dober pulled out a couple of shotguns and revolvers. Ronnie threw to Colt a lever action 12 gauge, which had the stock sawed off. Killian and Don got two Ithaca 37 pump action 12 gauges, and Todd and Adam got 9mm's. Ronnie grabbed his personal favorite, a long barreled .44 Magnum, which he shoved into a slot in his vest. He grabbed extra ammunition and shoved it into his jeans pocket as they all quickly ran for their bikes.

"Take the lead, Colt!" Ronnie shouted as he fired up his Fatboy. Colt nodded and took off first in his chopper, "the boys" leaving in a loud group that echoed amongst the buildings.

"HOLD ONTO ME RUDY!" screamed Kevin Janssen, the older brother to Colt. Looking frantic, the thirty-nine year old Arctic wolf held the throttle open on his underpowered Honda cruiser. Holding on for dear life was seven year old Rudy Janssen, Colt's oldest son. Looking terrified, the young Arctic wolf glanced back to see the lifted giant Ram truck keeping pace with them, its trucker like exhaust stacks billowing black soot. Kevin had accidentally cut the vehicle off at a turn, and its irate driver was determined to run them off the road in a fit of road rage. Kevin was praying that his brother would find them.

"Uncle Kev, he's gonna kill us!" screamed Rudy over and over.

"Just hold on!" Kevin yelled over the wind noise. Thinking fast, he made an abrupt, sliding turn onto another rural road, momentarily throwing the truck off. Looking back over his shoulder, Kevin watched as the truck tore through a field, its big knobby tires tearing up the earth in its deadly pursuit for them. Despite holding the throttle open, the giant Ram began its ominous slow approach at full speed.

Rumbling out of Chicago, Colt and Ronnie led "the boys" in their pursuit for Colt's brother. Going by his last known position that he said, they raced along the road that took them out of the city. Colt's long black hair flowed from beneath his black helmet as he rode his Harley Chopper. Black with yellow and orange flames painted on it, the bike roared loudly alongside Ronnie and his souped-up Fatboy. Blue eyes peered out through dark goggles. Ronnie wore his leathers with a black helmet that bore the HA insignia on it. Dark aviators covered his blue eyes. As they all rode together on their burbling bikes, Colt and Ronnie flashed directions and positioning with their paws as they got everyone ready for battle.

Winding around a bend, Colt saw in the distance, tire marks at an intersection, tire marks from a motorcycle. Ronnie pointed at truck tracks in a muddy field that looked fresh. Nodding, Colt motioned everyone to turn left. Roaring around in the turn, the throttles were opened and they started climbing a small hill. Getting up and over the apex of the hill, Colt spotted his brother and son being chased by the giant truck.

"GO TIME!" Colt yelled.

Colt took off ahead of Ronnie and their friends, and began closing the gap. Ronnie opened the throttle and kept pace with his friend. Kevin looked back and saw his brother approaching, which instantly brought a huge sigh of relief to him. A warning light had come on about the engine temperature, and he was starting to lose power from being at full throttle for so long.

"DAD!" Rudy waved with one hand. "HELP US!"

Colt waved to his son, motioning for him to hold onto his uncle. Pulling up to the truck, Colt motioned at him. "HEY! MOTHERFUCKER! PULL THE FUCK OVER!"

The truck suddenly lunged at Colt, the Arctic wolf swerving and going into the dirt on the edge of the road momentarily. Kicking up dust, Ronnie dodged some rocks that got kicked up onto the pavement, as the truck swerved to block him. Getting a burst of speed, the Ram hit the back of the Honda cruiser, knocking Kevin and Rudy for a violent bump as the kid screamed in terror.

Getting back onto the road, Colt pulled his sawn off M1887 lever action and fired it at the Ram, blowing out the back window of the cab along with the back right window. He swung the shotgun around by its lever, artfully reloading it one handed, and fired again, this time tearing birdshot through the bed.

"This motherfucker won't take a hint!" Colt thought to himself.

"PULL OVER!" Ronnie screamed. He pulled his .44 Magnum and cocked it, aiming for a tire. With a mighty blast and a sharp kick of recoil, Ronnie fired a shot and watched it miss and strike the pavement. He cocked it again and missed the second shot.

"WATCH YOUR SHOT, RON!" Colt yelled at him, as he fired a third round from his shotgun. This time, the birdshot made its mark in the back left tire, which immediately ruptured. The truck fishtailed, and the tire began to shred on the rim. Colt fired again and punctured the fuel tank, which began to bleed out onto the road. Ronnie fired at the back right tire, which was punctured by his bullet, and it took went flat almost immediately on the rim. The truck tried to swerve again, but the damaged tires could no longer hold it onto the road. The Ram truck spun out and smashed into a ditch. It hit hard, its nose crumpling and the front left tire jamming back into the frame. It bounced onto the road, almost tipping on its side, before coming to grief in a grinding stop against a guard rail. The impact was hard enough to warp the frame, bending the bed and cab into a subtle "v" shape. Colt and everyone pulled out and surrounded the vehicle on the empty country road. Kevin and Rudy stopped a few hundred feet up the road.

"ALRIGHT! GET THE FUCK OUT!" Colt demanded. He held the shotgun at his hip.

"GET OUT!" Ronnie yelled, a leather gloved paw holding his Smith and Wesson.

The driver's door slowly opened, and a pair of trembling paws were soon seen being raised up. The road rager was revealed as a young gray wolf, looking no more than twenty-two years old. A broken pair of sunglasses hung on his face from being hit by the airbag, and his nose bled a bit. A white, fitted Supreme hat was turned backwards on his head, and he wore designer t-shirt and jeans, and red and blue Supreme shoes.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" pleaded the young wolf, as Colt marched up and grabbed him by the throat.

"Muddafucker? Trying to kill my brother and my son!?" Colt yelled, aiming the shotgun at his face. "Well!?"

"I didn't know! I didn't know!"

"Yeah? Well now you know you're fuckin' with a Hells Angel's family member!" Colt screamed in his face. "What the fuck's your problem!?"

"Yeah!" Ronnie yelled. "What is the matter with you?"

"He cut me off!" the wolf yelled. "I got pissed!"

"There's a fucking kid on the back of the bike, you fucking retard!" Adam yelled, his 9mm aimed at the wolf. "What would you have done if you killed that fucking kid!?"

The wolf's mouth trembled, unsure of what to say. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry!"

"Yeah, you're sorry now..." Don shook his head. "Sorry your ass got caught!"

"Whacha gonna do to him, Colt?" grinned Killian with a laugh. "You done it now, boy!"

"Don't kill me!" pleaded the wolf. "Please! I'll give you anything!"

"Don't you ever fucking do it again!" Colt pointed. "You fuck around like that again you're gonna wind up dead!"

"Okay! Okay! Okay!"

Colt made his point by pistol whipping the wolf across the face with his shotgun. He was flung into his door and landed hard onto the pavement. "And get a nicer truck there Ram fag! Your mommy and daddy help you buy this?"

Everyone had a laugh as they approached the wolf who laid dazed on the pavement.

Kevin came running up with Rudy beside him.

"Son!" Colt yelled as he grabbed and picked his son up. "Rudy are you okay?"

"I'm okay." The young white wolf smiled. "This guy's really mean~"

"Yeah, I know." Colt said with a smile at Rudy. "But he won't do it again... he promised us that..."

Kevin ran up and kicked the wolf in the gut. "That's for almost killing us, you son of a bitch!"

"KEVIN!" screamed Colt. "ENOUGH!"

"Teenie weenie! Get your fucking bike!" Killian pointed.

Kevin looked at the burly malamute and frowned at the insult, as he brushed some dust off his yellow vest.

"You better have learned your lesson, boy, 'cause someone's gonna fuck you up ugly one of these days..." Ronnie pointed as he stowed his revolver away.

Colt helped his son onto his chopper, and he jumped on and fired it up. Grabbing their bikes, the gaggle of Hells Angels turned around and peeled out loudly, with Kevin struggling to keep up on his damaged bike. The bloodied young wolf was left to sit on the side of the road with his destroyed, shot up truck, his green eyes as wide as saucer plates.

Getting far away from the scene, the group had to pull over when Kevin's bike finally died. The engine finally gave out after being strained for so long.

Colt hopped off his bike and marched past everyone to confront his brother.

"Brother, I don't know how to-"

Colt shoved Kevin to the ground. "You're a god damn fucking retard, Kevin!"

"HEY!" Kevin yelled. "What was that for!?"

"You almost got my fucking kid killed being a fucking retard on this piece of shit Honda!" Colt yelled. "What the fuck did you think you were doing cutting someone off being a hardass on this piece of shit!"

"I didn't mean to cut him off!"

"Well you almost got killed!" Colt yelled.

"Stop yelling at me!"

"NO!" Colt screamed.

"Okay! Okay!" Adam said, intervening. "C'mon. Stop this."

"Wait till I tell Mom and Dad!" Kevin protested.

"Oh my fucking god..." Colt rolled his eyes. "This is why nobody in the Hells Angels wanted your dumbass to be part of the club! Mister Sunday riders!"

"Don't make fun of my group!"

"Your yellow vest looks so cute, you belong in the Weenie Hut MC!" Killian laughed.

Kevin looked at his vest and frowned at Killian's insult.

Colt took his helmet off and ran a paw through his hair. "Man... that was fucking nuts."

"...you're telling me..." Kevin frowned.

"You okay, lil' man?" Ronnie asked Rudy, who seemed content sitting on his Dad's bike.

"Yeah! It was kinda fun!" laughed the young wolf.

"Heh, heh. Sure." Chuckled the Doberman.

"C'mon, lil' dude, let's go home before your Mom gets worried~" Colt said as he hopped back on. "Get on Adam's bike, Kevin."

"No way, that's not what guys-"

"Get your ass on the bike!" the black and rust Dober commanded. "Fucking moron~"

"FINE... FINE..." Kevin groaned as he hopped on the back of Adam's bike and held onto him as they all departed.

"We'll get my truck and pick your bike up." Killian said as they all took off to head back to the city.

"That's the last time I do something like that."

"Good! Use that fucking brain in there for once!"

Monday morning felt crisp and fresh from the cool morning air. Stepping out in jeans and his leather jacket, Ronnie twirled his car keys in his grip as he walked over to his Civic to warm it up. As he unlocked it to get inside, he heard footsteps, the sound of sneakers on the sidewalk, and his name being called. Looking up, he saw Susan Brown running up to him. The mother to Colt's friend Zack, she was a gray wolfess with long brown hair that was cut at the shoulders. She wore blue scrubs and white sneakers, being a home healthcare nurse.

"Ronnie, oh Ronnie!"

"Morning, Susan, what's up?" Ronnie asked curiously.

"Ronnie, is there any chance you could take Zack to school?" Susan asked. "I'm sorry to ask on such short notice, but the car won't start... and I gotta get Jeff to come and jump it for me."

"Oh, well, okay! Not a problem." Ronnie smiled.

"Oh my god, thank you so much, Ron."

"It's not a problem, Susan! Hey, is everything okay with you and Jeff?"

Susan momentarily hesitated, her lips sucked in. "Yeah~" she quickly replied. "We're okay... just... a few arguments from things."

"Just making sure because I heard you two arguing loudly a few days ago."

"Yeah. It was something silly." Susan laughed awkwardly. "Oh Zack!"

Ronnie watched a sullen looking Zack walk with his head looking down towards the pavement. He always looked like a sad, withdrawn kid. It made Ronnie frown a bit. In contrast, his son Colt came running out of the apartment with his backpack and lunch box bouncing in his grip.

"Morning Zack!" Colt said cheerfully.

"Morning~" Zack responded, a smile forming on his face. "I'm gonna be riding with you to school today~"

"Cool! Get in!"

"You have a good day, Zack. I love you~" Susan smiled as he turned to go tend to her car. Colt hopped into the front seat and buckled up, and Zack buckled up in the back as Ronnie backed out and took off.

"How ya doin' back there, little man?"

"I'm okay, Ronnie" Zack said. He spoke with a soft, quiet voice.

Driving across Brighton Park, Ronnie pulled up to the drop off zone to Colt's elementary school, to drop him off to kindergarten. He had just a month and a half left before summer break, and then he'd be a first grader. It was sometimes hard to imagine how fast Colt was growing. As always, he walked Colt to his classroom and give him a hug before sending him off. Getting back in the Civic, he let Zack sit in the front seat, as he took him to his school, several blocks to the north. Unlike Colt's school, Ronnie had to find a parking spot in the congested lot, and walk him to class.

Ronnie hopped out first, and walked over to see Zack get out of the car. He seemed to wince as he put some pressure on his right foot, and winced again as he put his backpack on. Zack walked towards the small steps at the front of the building, and winced as he went up them.

"You okay there, Zack?" Ronnie asked. "You look like you're limping!"

"I'm sore." Admitted the young wolf as he sat down on a bench to rub his ankle area.

"What happened? Are you okay?" Ronnie asked. "Here, lemme see."

Kneeling down, the dog gently lifted Zack's pant leg and pulled his sock down a bit, revealing a nasty looking bruise on his ankle. Zack mentioned about his arm, and Ronnie gently lifted his shirt sleeve up some, revealing a bruise on his upper arm. It looked as though something or someone had hit him. "Oh Zack, what happened?"

"I fell. It was an accident." Zack said, looking down at the ground.

Ronnie tilted his head a bit, concern etched on his face. "You fell?"

"I fell a few days ago." Zack reiterated. A few days ago, Ronnie had heard his parents having a huge fight. Susan was the overworked, burned out wife, and Zack's father, Jeff Brown, was the angry asshole alcoholic, who he never liked. Ronnie immediately suspected the worst. The bell rang, and Ronnie helped Zack to his classroom, where he turned him over to his teacher, who thanked him for his generosity. As he walked back to his car, Ronnie felt bothered by what he saw. Was his alcoholic asshole of a father abusing him? Was this his place to say something? Ronnie felt upset and conflicted. Who could ever harm children? He thought. The thought of hitting Colt was unfathomable. Even his father never spanked him or anything. Who would want to strike an innocent child?

The Dober got back into his Civic and closed the door, as he sat for a moment reflecting on things. After a minute or two of thought, Ronnie turned the key over and popped it into reverse to leave. He had a few hours to himself before he had to go to work to start another grueling week. As he drove back home, his phone rang, and Ronnie found that it was Trish from work.

"'Sup Trish!" Ronnie greeted.

"Hey Ronnie, you, uhh, doing anything before work?"

"Not really, what's up?"

"Maybe you could help me out with something?"

"Oh yeah?"

Letting his lust get the best of him, Ronnie pressed Trish against the wall of her bedroom and made out with her. The black and tan lady Dober ran her paws through Ronnie's long locks as they shared a deep kiss. Pent up, Ronnie took the bit of free time to get some action, and bang his ex-girlfriend.

Trish and Ronnie twirled towards the bed, and they shared a laugh as Trish almost tripped over her own clothes on the floor. She jumped onto her bed and Ronnie laid on top, as they continued with their kissing session. They were co-workers, and sometimes fuck buddies; they had an at-times complicated friendship and working relationship. After Misty had died, Ronnie had a brief relationship with Trish, until she cheated on him with another guy from another biker gang. He really liked her as his girlfriend, and it hurt for a while after they had broken up. After Ronnie beat up her abusive boyfriend, they decided to rekindle their friendship, with a bit extra. Sometimes Ronnie still had feelings for her, but after she cheated on him, he decided it was best to keep some distance in his emotions.

Trish wrapped her legs around Ronnie as he fucked her missionary style. His long hair flowed down the sides of his face like a darkened, curly waterfall. Trish played and fondled with his hair and ran her fingers through his goatee and chinstrap, which he used to nuzzle her face.

"You still got it, Ronno~"

"Heh, I try." He chuckled with a grin.

Ronnie grunted through clenched teeth as he thrust himself deep into his ex. With a quivering grunt, Ronnie soon came, and Trish gasped at the sensation as they shared one final kiss. Ronnie pulled out and fell over to her side as they breathed a sigh of relief together. Ronnie propped his head up with his arm and smiled. Trish smiled back and rubbed his tattooed chest.

"If you didn't do what you did in the bedroom... I don't know what I'd do!" Trish chuckled.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you fucked AJ~" chuckled Ronnie with a smug grin.

"Oh my god, Ron, don't bring that up."

"Hey, I'm just saying~"

"He talked me into it, and he made it sound like he was this badass in bed-"

"And then you saw that he couldn't put his thunder thimble to use!" Ronnie laughed. "Fuck that guy~ Gypsy piece of shit."

"Oh Ronnie~" Trish laughed as she breathed a sigh of relief.

"You entice me to some fun, so you could just totally fuck with my emotions, huh?" Ronnie teased with a smirk.

"It is what it is, and we both wanted this~" Trish said as she got up to get cleaned up. Ronnie laid out on his back and rested while Trish returned from the bathroom lighting a cigarette up. She found that Ronnie had fallen back asleep on her bed, and Trish chuckled at the sight while she folded his clothes up and sat them on the dresser.

A few hours later, Ronnie pulled into work and got himself clocked in. Replacing his leather jacket with his apron, he stepped into the hot oven of a kitchen and tied his hair back into a ponytail, his hair net being shoved on. He washed his paws and got to work. Today he saw his boss in the kitchen helping out as well, as someone had called off.

"How ya doin', today Ron?" Paul asked as he shredded lettuce for a salad.

"I'm fine, Paul. Thanks~" Ronnie responded as he grabbed the prepared meat from the fridge. A smile emerged as he carried the containers beside Paul. "You know! Same shit, different day!"

"Ha, yeah, I get that." Paul chuckled.

"Well, me and the boys are gonna do a gig at this gay bar holding a band contest in Boystown~" Ronnie added.

"Oh yeah? Boy that sounds right up your alley!" Paul teasingly grinned.

"Funny..." Ronnie chuckled. "Everyone's a fucking comedian with me!"

"I'm kidding, Ron~ What song or songs you playin'?"

"Not sure yet! Probably do two covers."

"Ah."

"Here's hoping people like it there." Chuckled the Doberman. "Not that gay dudes are fickle as fuck with music."

"You should sing some bubblegum pop!"

"Over my dead body!" laughed Ronnie as he threw hamburgers on the sizzling griddle.

"You're not like the stereotypical, limp wrister, tootie-fruties~" Paul chuckled as he put some plastic wrap over his shredded lettuce bowl and stuffed it back into the fridge.

"Well that's 'cause I'm bi~" laughed the dog. "And nobody can say shit, because I just banged Trish this morning."

Paul gave Ronnie a playful wolf-whistle and a grin. "Atta boy!"

"Girls are easier to understand, at least to me." Shrugged Ronnie. "Gay dudes... whoa-boy... that's why I've only had one boyfriend in my life. He was real sweet too, but he got scared when I wanted to be a biker."

"Eh, his loss." Paul shrugged.

"There's guys who don't like 'cause I'm bi, and that's something weird to them, and the other guys who just want to be bitchy and catty and hold themselves and others to unrealistic standards for beauty. Plus I think some people are legitimately scared of me for being an Angel? I don't know... their problem! Not mine!"

"Yeah, you can only worry about yourself." Paul shrugged. "Fuck 'em."

"Yeah, right?" Ronnie rolled his eyes with a smirk. He stood for a moment at the grill as he flipped some of the patties. "Hey, Paul?"

"Yeah?"

"Hey I need your thoughts on something..."

"What's that?"

"I had to take one of lil Colt's friends to school, and I noticed he had some bruises on him?"

"Oh boy..." Paul grimaced.

"He had a bruise around his right ankle that looked like it was bothering him, and then he had a bruise here on his upper arm- it looked like someone grabbed him really hard, or he got hit with something..." Ronnie explained. "I don't know if it's my place to say anything..."

"You think his parents are abusing him?"

"Well they fight constantly, and we can all hear it at the apartment complex..." Ronnie rolled his eyes. "Susan is a burned out nurse, and Jeff is this drunk fuck, asshole. I can't stand the guy."

"Yeah, something's up then... and if they're fighting all the time, and the kid's getting a bruise..."

"I just don't know if I should get involved..."

"Just remember that evil triumphs when good men doing nothing, Ron." Paul pointed out. "Maybe say something?"

"Maybe." Ronnie gestured. "When it rains, it pours, right?"

"Sadly, yeah."

Rumbling out of the parking lot of the biker bar, Ronnie took Paul's beat up Dodge Ram to go buy more supplies at the GFS. A busier than expected lunch crowd depleted their supplies, and Paul wanted to get replenished in preparation for the dinner crowd. Ronnie had to take his boss' truck; his little Civic was overheating coming in to work, and the dog suspected another problem with the coolant lines he'd have to repair yet again. The big Ram 2500 burbled down the road from its huge Magnum V10 under the hood. In the dented up bed sat a couple of coolers that bounced and rattled along for the ride.

Checking the time on the radio, Ronnie slowly sighed. It was the middle of the week, and it felt like it was dragging along. His mind wandered to the thought about playing that gig at the gay bar, and he was excited to get to use his musical talents again, and see about winning that prize money. Anything was better than toiling away in a hot, cramped kitchen.

Stopping real quick at AutoZone, Ronnie stocked up on a bottle of coolant, and some sealing compound to patch the leak to get him home. He drove a few more blocks to the GFS, where he pulled into an empty spot towards the back of the lot. It was a different experience parking a long wheelbase truck, verses his motorcycle, or Civic. It took a two point turn to get lined up exactly to pull the Ram in. As Ronnie pushed the shifter into park, he spotted his neighbor Susan leaving the GFS. Ronnie saw his opening.

Hopping out, he saw Susan jumping into her sedan. He ran over to see him.

"Hey, Susan! Hey!" Ronnie waved.

"Oh hey~" she smiled back. "What brings you here, Ron?"

"Oh, grocery shopping for work." The dog chuckled.

"Same here, gotta get stuff for dinner before getting Zack from school."

"Hey, can I talk to you real quick about Zack?"

Susan's smile immediately faded to a serious, regretful look. She looked away at Ronnie and seemingly hesitated for a moment.

"Susan?"

"Look. I know what this is about, Ron." The wolfess said in a quiet tone. "I assume... you saw the bruises."

"Yes."

Susan pursed her lips and looked at Ron's serious, concerned gaze on his face. "Jeff has started alcoholics anonymous, and counseling about his rage issues... and this won't happen again, I promise. Please... please don't bring the police or the school into this... that's the last thing we need..."

"He's hitting you too isn't he?"

Susan breathed through clenched teeth. "If... he wasn't going to counseling I would have considered..."

"Susan, you can't have Jeff beating you and Zack." Ronnie said sternly.

"Yeah, I get that, Ron. It's easier said than done."

"Look. I'll make it short and simple. If he does it again, me and the boys are gonna beat the shit out of him." Ronnie promised. "You can't let him hit Zack. That's not right."

"Ron, that's going to make things worse!"

"Then what? It's not going to stop Susan. That's not how abusers work. He'll just keep getting worse and worse, and you'll be walking on eggshells until it becomes a fatal accident... I'm telling you Susan. If Zack gets hit by Jeff again, he's gonna get his ass handed to him."

Ronnie tapped on the window sill and walked away from Susan's car to go grab his supplies. The wolfess sunk down a bit in her sedan, looking utterly embarrassed, before she quickly took off to leave.

Ten minutes later, Ronnie walked back to the truck with a shopping cart full of frozen meat and other bits and pieces. He stuffed them into the ice filled chests in the bed and put the cart away. Hopping back into Paul's truck, Ronnie took off to head back to work. Listening to the radio play some old rock music, Ronnie thought about his upcoming gig. How he dreamed of having his band back and making albums again, and singing to screaming fans. Or at least a career in music somewhere. Not only could he sing and play an acoustic guitar, Ronnie, like Adam, was good at sound engineering. Anything would be better than his current situation. Oh how he dreamed about making dough and not having to stress over every cent spent. But dreams required action, and at the moment, Ronnie felt powerless, backed into a corner. He felt as though he really "screwed the pooch" with his life.

Looking dead tired, Ronnie helped his son up onto the back of his Fatboy and climbed on to take him to school. Colt held onto his Dad as they took off from the parking lot on a sunny Friday morning. Tired, bloodshot eyes were hid behind his goggles as Ronnie drove with the morning commute. By the end of his work week, the Dober was always exhausted, from a lack of sleep, and mental fog. This week, his bad luck felt exasperated by more bad news, this time with the car. Having just repaired the radiator, the twenty-five year old Civic EX finally died from rusting out. Its front sub-frame shattered when Ronnie swerved from a car that abruptly went left of center, and he struck the curb hard enough to break the front right tire off. Calling Killian, his friend came with his truck and a trailer, and they managed to drag it on home, where it sat broken in its parking spot. Another setback in his life. The only consolation was that Ronnie had time to work up the funds to buy another beater with a heater, as the weather was getting warmer slowly.

Ronnie took Colt to school and walked him to class. As always, he gave his son an encouraging goodbye, and hugged him. Students and teachers watched the tough looking biker depart from the front entrance and hop back onto his bike to head back home.

Returning back home, Ronnie took a short nap and got back up to make the most of the few hours he had for himself. He sat at his computer desk and worked on editing some music for a friend of his. A mutual friend of his and Adam was working on an EP for their band, and Ronnie and Adam were both working on editing songs. Of the five songs, Adam had three and Ronnie was editing two. Each instrument was recorded separately, and Ronnie worked to combine and mix them together along with the vocals. He had an audio mixer plugged into his laptop, as he worked the sound levels by sliding the various levers up and down for each track. Tired or not, the little bit of extra money would help keep him and his son afloat.

The phone rang right as he saved the song file to his hard drive. Picking up his cellphone, he swiped up to answer his boss Paul and put it on speakerphone.

"Yo! Paul!"

"Ronno, I didn't wake you up did I?"

"Nah, I've been up editing this song, what's going on?"

"Hey, don't come into work today, Ron. I had to close the damn shop up today because of a water main deciding to explode in the kitchen."

"Yikes."

"So sorry you gotta miss a day, because I know you need the money, but I'll make it up to ya. You take care and rest up, Ron."

"Thanks Paul. I appreciate it. Bye."

Ronnie hung up the phone and leaned back in his office chair. He immediately leaned forward and grabbed his phone, while the thought was still fresh on his mind. He texted his friends, and told them he had the day off, and wondered if they wanted to practice and jam in the evening after they got off work. He soon got confirmation from everyone that that would be the plan, and to meet up at Lincoln Park.

Playing back the song one more time for a final review, Ronnie felt relieved that it sounded great on his stereo speakers. He got it right this time with the mix. Checking the time and feeling tired once again, he decided to get a shower in and maybe a longer nap. Going to the bathroom, Ronnie ripped his jeans and tanktop off and kicked over to the corner by the door. He turned on the hot water and glanced at himself in the mirror. His face bore the look of sheer exhaustion. He turned to step into the shower, his face immediately recoiling to the shock of ice cold water.

"Fuck!" Ronnie shouted. His wet feet slipped and he fell on his butt to the realization that he had no hot water. "Oh no..."

Wincing as he got up. He felt the icy cold water falling from the shower head and tried to adjust the hot water to no avail. The tank finally had burned out completely.

Drying himself off and sighing, Ronnie sent a message to his landlord, who responded that he'd have to figure out a time to get a replacement tank for him. Ronnie just chuckled at all the other backlogged repairs that his apartment needed. The ceiling had water damage, some of his light switches and outlets barely worked, and now the hot water tank. All he could was chuckle; was screaming and yelling going to help him? Lying down on his couch, Ronnie rolled onto his side and quickly fell back asleep.

Colt and his friends ran out from the classroom joking and giggling with each other down the classroom at the end of kindergarten. His morning class always ended around ten in the morning.

"Let's play tag when we get home!" Colt suggested to his friend Max as he pushed the front entrance doors open. Colt turned and suddenly saw his Dad standing there, much to his surprise. A big smile emerged on the young Dober's face as he ran towards him.

"Dad!" Colt greeted as he ran up and hugged his Dad, who hugged him in return.

"Lil Colty! How was school?"

"Whacha doin' here, Dad? I thought you worked?"

"Oh, I got the day off today~" chuckled the dog as he put an arm around Colt. "Work had to close because a pipe burst."

"Eww!"

"Yeah, I say the same thing too." Ronnie laughed.

Colt put his helmet on and Ronnie helped him onto the bike as they took off from school.

"Do you have any plans today, Dad?" Colt asked over the wind and traffic noise.

"Well me and the boys are gonna play some music at Lincoln Park this evening."

"Ooooh! Can I join?"

"Yeah!"

"Whee!"

"We're gonna practice for Saturday night's gig at this bar place called Hydrate." Ronnie added.

"Good luck!"

"Yeah! I appreciate that, lil man!"

Going back home, Ronnie took some time to play with his son and their friends out in the yard, running around laughing and playing tag with them and the other parents. He later went and finished mixing the last song for his friend and sent him the finished product for review.

In the early evening, Ronnie tried to get himself as cleaned up as best he could, and changed into his leathers. Emerging from his apartment with Colt, Ronnie walked out wearing his black riding boots, black leather pants, and jacket, with a white tanktop beneath. Snug black leather gloves covered both his paws, which clutched his acoustic guitar. Colt stepped out wearing his leather jacket and white motorcycle helmet strapped to his head. Ronnie put the guitar around Colt's back and helped him onto the bike, which he hopped on and donned his goggles and helmet. Firing the Fatboy up, they rumbled out of the parking lot of the apartment complex, and began their way across town to meet up with his friends at Lincoln Park, on the north-east side of the city.

Twenty minutes later, Ronnie and Colt rumbled into the entrance and parking lot, where he spotted some of their bikes, and Killian's pickup truck. Not far away from the entrance was a large gazebo, where he spotted everyone setting up their sound gear. Ronnie pulled up and parked.

While Colt and went to play with his friends, Colt and Killian's kids, Ronnie helped Adam get the sound gear working. Microphones and amps were set and adjusted, as they set their gear up. Sitting on the grass sunning themselves were the wives and girlfriends, who tended to the kids who ran around them playing tag. While getting instruments tuned up and ready, the band mates debated about what song or songs they should play at the contest. Nobody was quite sure, and they all decided to just play a bunch and see what sounded best live best. Just like years before, Ronnie had his microphone, Killian and Todd with their guitars, Adam on the keytar, and Colt with his bass. Don, filling the shoes of his late brother Eddy, was all ready on his drum set. They decided to play some covers, starting with the Eric Clapton song, "Pretending", which Ronnie sung with his best rocker voice.

"How many times must we tell the tale?

How many times must we fall?

Living in lost memory you just recalled

Working on the sound of the band

Trying to get the music right

Two go out work

Three stay home at night"

Ronnie, gyrating along to the tune, looked out to see almost nobody paying attention. The park's visitors largely ignored the tune as Ronnie hit the chorus.

"That's when she said she was pretending

Like she knew the plan

That's when I knew she was pretending

Pretending to understand"

Ronnie sang the song out and gave the microphone over to Killian, who sang out a Kiss hit, "Love 'em, Leave 'em". The big malamute had a bit of a deeper, raspier voice than Ronnie, as he sang into the mic while working his roaring guitar. Todd kept up with him. Ronnie backed up Killian, while doing air guitar to mimic his moves. A grin lit up Ronnie's face as Killian kept himself from laughing. At one point, the malamute flipped the Dober off jokingly.

Ronnie laughed and spun around to see a couple of people observing. They stood for a few moments to listen, and then went along their way. Ronnie could remember the days when they were in the charts, and doing something like this would bring hundreds of fans around. In a way, it seemed so embarrassing, to have an audience of just their kids and girlfriends.

After a short pause, Ronnie took a drink from a bottle of water and decided to do his favorite cover, "Hard Times", a Little Caesar song, the song that gave their name. It felt close to Ronnie, who felt he was in some hard times after everything fell apart.

"C'mon, boys!" Ronnie called into the mic. "Hard Times!"

Killian opened with the opening riff and Todd backed him up. Don hit the cymbals hard and Colt and Adam filled in with their instruments.

"Alright, alright, alright, alright

Monday, Monday mornin'

And I'm shakin' off the beer

Workin' has got me jerkin'

Pissed away another year

And they're takin' what I'm makin'

Tryin' to keep myself alive

I'm a loser, huh, I'm a bruiser

I can spend it at twenty-five

C'mon, boys!"

Everyone sang with Ronnie for the chorus.

"Hard times, tryin' to earn a livin'

Hard times, how long can they last

Hard times, blood is what I'm givin'

But all they want is cash~"

As Ronnie flipped his sweaty locks of hair back, he noticed three new people watching them, one of them aiming a very professional looking video camera at them. Ronnie, focusing on singing, kept an eye on them out of the corner of his eye. The cameraman was a big gray furred husky, dressed formally in dark slacks and a loosely collared dress shirt and blue tie. There was a burly Arctic wolf with long black hair tied into a ponytail. He was casually dressed in gray sweatpants, sneakers, and a sleeveless hoodie that bore a Norwegian sweater pattern. Standing beside him was a brown and tan wolf, who looked mixed with malamute or something. Ronnie saw that he was formally dressed like the husky, in black slacks, a white dress shirt, and a gray and blue striped necktie. He held a professional video camera by its carrying handle as he observed. Ronnie noticed that he had a somewhat stern gaze on a face that bore a nasty looking dark scar on it. Brown hair was slicked back atop his head.

"Hard times

Tryin' to, tryin' to, tryin' to, tryin' to

Hard times

How long, how long, how long, how long, how long

Hard times, blood is what I'm givin'

But all they want is cash, the almighty dollar

All they want is cash

All they want is cash, yeah

Hey, there, brother, can you spare a dime

Ooh-ow!"

Ronnie struck a pose with the microphone raised in the air and a grin on his sweaty face. Everyone sat their gear down to take a break and talk about what sounded good to play in the contest. Ronnie went to grab his bottle of water to take another swig, when he saw the big burly Arctic wolf approach.

"Wow! Nice work, guys!" grinned the big Arctic wolf. He spoke with a deep, Norwegian accent.

"Hey thanks!" grinned Ronnie. "Hey, wait a sec- you're Varg Eikemo aren't you?"

"Yeah!" the wolf acknowledged. Ronnie was excited to the idea of meeting a famous musician he had listened to. Jumping down from the gazebo, the Doberman happily accepted a paw shake from the wolf.

Holy crap man! I like some of your metal albums!"

"Thank you! I appreciate it!" Varg grinned. "Your music sounds familiar? I feel like I've heard it somewhere before."

Colt Janssen approached. "Well you might have. Heh, we used to almost be famous."

"Ever heard of the band Hard Times?" the Dober asked Varg.

"Hmm..." Varg thought. "That name doesn't ring a bell... but it sounds familiar."

"We used to be on the Carson label. Made two albums." The white wolf said to Varg. "Before they dropped us when our drummer got killed."

"Oh! Now I remember!" Varg pointed. "You guys got fucked by your label over the plane crash that happened in Iowa five or so years ago!"

"Yeah..." the Dober nodded. "Name's Ronnie Samson."

"Well it's so nice to meet you guys." Smiled Varg. "These are my friends here, we're just spending the evening in Chicago. This is Rob Barion, and Maverick Tokarev, of United Barev Industries."

"Sup!" grinned the Dober with a wave. "Ronnie~"

"Maverick!" the husky greeted as he shook his paw.

"Rob." The wolf-hybrid greeted. He shook Ronnie's paw with a firm grip.

"These two are my video engineering talents that make the magic happen!" Varg complimented.

"Oh neat!" Ronnie smiled. "I kind of like technology myself."

"So you guys are Hells Angels?" Maverick asked curiously. "...we don't want any trouble!"

"Heh, heh, you don't get trouble if you don't make trouble~" grinned the white wolf with a sarcastic wag of a finger. "Yeah, we're all Hells Angels. We like motorcycles, we're all part of the same chapter, and we all like music, so it was all meant to be!"

"Well I like the music." Rob complimented. "It's quite a nice sound to it. It's not obnoxious... it's quite... soulful."

"Thank you!" Ronnie exclaimed. "See, people listen to our music and then see us in your leathers and shit, and don't know what to make of it. This is just who we are?"

"Nothing wrong with that~" Rob nodded. "So who's everyone here?"

"I'm Colt Janssen." The white wolf waved. He introduced everyone else. The burly malamute was Killian Halen, the gray wolf was Todd Kennedy, and the black and rust Doberman was Adam Stein. Colt introduced their drummer, Killian's younger brother, Don Halen.

"Hey Dad!" came Colt, who ran up to put his arms around the red Dober and hug him with a happy grin.

"And this is my son, Colt Samson." Ronnie laughed. "Say hi to our guests lil' man!"

"Hi!" the young red Dobie waved. "I'm Colt!"

"Nice to meet you." Smiled Rob.

"This is our motley crew." Janssen pointed out with a chuckle. "We still play together in our free time, with our old ladies watching with the kids."

"I take it you guys are trying to get rediscovered again?" Varg asked.

"Yes and no. I mean, it would be nice? But... I think we burned our bridges with the accident..." Ronnie grimaced.

Janssen chimed in. "We all created this band back in 2013, and we put out our first album that hit the charts, and then we started gaining momentum. We made a second album and that went even higher, and things were looking up!"

Killian chuckled. "Then sadly my brother and our engineers got killed in the plane crash."

"Our van had broken down while we were in Illinois, and we had a gig to play in South Dakota that next day. We decided to split up when a guy told us he could fly all of our gear to South Dakota. So Eddy Halen, our original drummer, Lisa, and Samuel, the lighting and sound engineers, got onboard this cargo plane with all our gear, and somewhere over Iowa, the plane blew up." Ronnie explained to Varg and everyone.

"Wait a second, I think I know what you're talking about." Rob recalled. "There was an old DC-3 that had a heater malfunction and it burst into flames and exploded over Iowa back in January 2017. It caused an AD on my DC-3 fleet."

"Yeah!" Janssen nodded. "That was it. All on board were killed. And the record label blamed us for it, because all of us got fucking sued. We lost everything. Our royalties, our rights to our own songs! Everything. So now me and Killian here work at a warehouse...."

"...I work for a motorcycle dealership." Todd added.

"Yeah, and I work at a bank!" laughed Adam the Doberman.

Don waved from his drum set. "I got all of you beat at the dealership!"

"No one gives a fuck, Don~" teased Janssen with a chuckle. "Hey Ronnie, why don't you tell 'em where you work at!"

Ronnie sighed and rolled his eyes a bit with a bit of a smirk. "I work as a short order cook and dish washer at a biker bar."

"Hey, nothing wrong with that!" Varg exclaimed. "I used to help my Dad with fishing when I wasn't touring and making music~ I come from a big fishermen family in Stavanger."

"So you know what we're dealing with!"

"Kind of!" Varg chuckled. "I know what it's like to be fucked over by a band and record label..."

"While we still got some light... I'd love to shoot some video of you guys playing, if that's cool~" Rob asked.

"Yeah!" Ronnie exclaimed. Everyone seemed excited to the idea. "Say man, what kind of camera is that! That thing looks old!"

"Oh! This is an Ikegami HL-791 tube camera, with a Sony BVV-5 Beta SP recorder. Built in September 1985, and uses three, two-thirds inch, Low Capacity Diode-Gun Plumbicons."

"Neat!"

"Me and Mav restored these."

"Along with all the other cameras!" Maverick exclaimed.

"So that's like your hobby?"

"Yeah, when I'm not playing fucking adult daycare with my company~" Rob chuckled. "Quick! While we have light! Let's shoot this!"

"Sure!"

As the sun began to set, streetlights flickered alight as Ronnie and his son pulled back into the parking lot of his apartment complex. Not far behind them, the white Tahoe that bore the name "BAREV" pulled in behind him, carrying Rob, Maverick, and Varg.

"Guys, I apologize in advance that my apartment's gonna look like shit!" Ronnie laughed awkwardly as he led everyone to the door. "But this is where me and lil' Colt call home~"

"Heh, it's no big deal." Rob shrugged as he was welcomed inside.

"Well this is my humble abode." The dog pointed out. "I have a dead fridge, and my hot water tank took a shit on me too. Just my luck, huh?"

"When it rains, it pours!" Maverick joked.

"You're telling me..." Ronnie shook his head. "Anyways... lemme show you my music!"

Rob and Maverick took a seat on his couch, while Varg pulled a chair up next to Ronnie as he showed him his audio editing program and some of the music he mixed, including a couple songs the band created. Varg looked impressed as Ronnie played back some of the songs, and showed him a couple projects he was still cutting together.

"Wow~" Varg complimented, nodding along to the beat. "That's fuckin' great!"

"Heh, thanks." The dog chuckled. "I sometimes cut music together in what little free time I have to make some extra cash... I'm... trying to keep my head above the water..."

"Oh I know that feeling." Varg nodded. "I remember being in my early twenties, and just working my ass off with my band mates to make ends meet. Art truly is pain!"

"Yeahhhhhh~" Ronnie grimaced. "Pain alright! I thought that we were on our way to lasting success, and it just blew up in our face. Now look at this mess I've gotten myself into. I'm living out of that stupid little cooler thingy my neighbor is letting me borrow, and I have no idea how I'm going to fix my hot water tank... everything's fucking falling apart on me, even the god damn car."

Varg frowned and glanced back at Rob and Maverick. "I know the frustration. Fifteen years ago, I got let go from the band I founded, and it was a rough transition into a solo career that ultimately turned into a producing career. There were a lot of days I wasn't sure if what I was doing was the right thing, especially with a young son just like you."

"Yeah."

"I do want to offer you something if you're interested?"

"Oh?"

"I think you know your shit about music, and I am really impressed by your music skills, and your editing skills! What if you'd like to be my sound engineer back in Ohio?" Varg asked with an offer.

Ronnie leaned back in his chair. "A sound engineer, eh?"

"Yeah! I'd pay you a nice salary and you wouldn't have to work your ass to death to make ends meet!" the burly wolf said with a grin. "What do you say?"

"Oh man... that would be amazing! But... I'd have to move to Ohio."

"We'd help pay your moving expenses." Rob chimed in.

"I... just... I don't know." Ronnie hesitated. "I gotta think about Colt finishing kindergarten... and the logistics, and I'm just hesitant jumping on things, after what had happened... But I really want to, but I just don't know."

"Think on it, Ron!" Varg smiled. "I'm in no hurry. But please think on it and consider, because I'd love to have your talent aboard."

"Well gee, I appreciate your niceness." Ronnie smiled in return. "I just gotta see, ya know?"

"I understand completely~ Just think about it and give me a call~" Varg nodded as he handed Ronnie a business card. Ronnie accepted the card from Varg and found that it had his personal number written on it.

"Thanks!"

"Well, it's getting late, so I think we should get going." Rob suggested as he got up. "I'll edit the music video we shot and send you the file via e-mail link."

"Perfect."

Ronnie shook everyone's paws and wished them goodnight as they departed. Varg reiterated again before he left that he was "in no hurry", and Ronnie could take his time to decide. He closed the door and locked it as he thought about the offer.

Rumbling into Boystown, Ronnie felt out of place as he looked at all the rainbow flags that fluttered on every streetlight pole, building, and corner. There was a time in his life where he wanted to fit in and be part of the gay community as an out bi man, but he never felt that he meshed all that well with the gay community. Ronnie found a lot of people surprisingly cold, for a community that was supposed to be all colorful and accepting. He could remember being snubbed and ignored by guys, for seemingly arbitrary things, or people being unnecessarily rude and cold, or untrusting of his bisexuality. Ronnie felt more at home with the outlaw bikers. He felt more comfortable dating women.

All the sights of gay couples out and about made Ronnie think about how he came out to his Dad, and fearing that his dad would kill him when he caught him looking at gay porn on the computer. Fearing a hostile response, his father just laughed it off and breathed a sigh of relief that Ronnie wasn't "a kiddie fucker". His father was accepting of his first and only boyfriend he ever had, a high school classmate he dated for a few years before he went on to become a biker. It seemed like such a long time ago. His name was Max, and he was a slightly effeminate red Dober who wanted to do more with theatre. Ronnie really liked him, but they ended up breaking up when he went off to college. Last Ronnie had heard, Max was now doing theatre stuff for Disney down in Florida. But being a biker now, he had to keep his bisexuality subdued; his friends knew and didn't care, and most of the Angels in the chapter knew, but it was a weird "don't ask, don't tell" kind of situation. But it didn't matter anymore. Ronnie didn't care- he adopted an attitude of "I am who I am", after all the setbacks in his life that made him grow cynical. All the colorful flags and pride messages of "love is love" seemed hollow and phony from his own treatment trying to fit in.

Hydrate was some gay dance club and bar, located at the corner of Cornelia and Halsted. Ronnie put his turn signal on and pulled over to the curb, behind Killian's pickup truck. As he hopped off his bike, he saw Colt and Don step out from a side door, to grab more of their gear from the truck.

"Hey! I thought you worked till like five?" Don asked Ronnie.

"I got another day off today..." Ronnie grimaced. "The Corral got shut down again because the water damage from yesterday fucked the electrics up and the circuit breaker got fucked."

"Ouch." Don frowned.

"Yeah, my bank account is gonna say that too. 'Ouch'", the dog frowned. "But... take it for what it is, I can relax and get into the right mood to win this contest."

"Hell yeah!" Don grinned. "We're gonna blow this out of the park!"

"Hopefully this shit works out." Colt chuckled.

"Yeah, hopefully!" Ronnie laughed.

Ronnie grabbed one of Don's drums and carried it inside to help him put his drum set together. The club's dance floor had two stages, and one was reserved for them, as they were the only band who signed up for the contest. Of the dozen or so, everyone else were just going to sing to the DJ throwing on a song for them. After getting the drums set up, Ronnie and Adam worked together to get the microphones and amps set up and calibrated. Killian, Todd, and Colt fiddled around with their guitars as Adam and Ronnie calibrated the sound volume.

"So what's this?"

Ronnie looked up to see another red Doberman staring at him, a catty looking guy with a manbun hairdo between his cropped ears that looked like they had been burned once before. He wore skin tight jeans and a green v-neck shirt.

"Who are you?" Ronnie asked.

The Doberman seemed to take offense at Ronnie's words. "What do you mean 'who are you?' You don't know who I am?"

"No. Who the fuck are you?" Colt glared.

"I'm Mario Schleppi!" the Doberman exclaimed. "The guy from Three Guys and a Couch? 'You can take that to the bank?' The guy who hawked fucking ice cream all over Chicago TV?"

"Oh..." Colt responded. "You're that colossal douchebag."

Mario crossed his arms and glared a bit.

Killian chuckled. "Wasn't that sitcom cancelled after like one or two seasons?"

"It was cancelled by mistake because of a huge misunderstanding!" Mario defended.

"I think it got cancelled because it sucked!" Todd laughed. "I remember that stupid show."

"What the fuck do you want?" Ronnie asked, sounding more irritated as he untangled a cable.

"Well I'm just letting you boys know that I'm winning that thousand dollars!" Mario exclaimed. "So read 'em and weep!"

"Well you gotta sing first~" Adam laughed. "Don't do your victory lap just yet!"

"I have plenty of talent!" Mario grinned.

"Like what? Deepthroating a microphone?" Don teased with a grin.

"That your hair looks like something that was killed crossing the highway?" Adam asked.

Mario gasped. "Don't make fun of my wig!"

"A wig!?" laughed everyone.

"You know what it's like to burn your paw or something? Well imagine that to the top of your whole fucking head!" Mario snapped. "I had to work in Ohio on these fucking commercials and they set my fucking head on fire!"

"Was it a Pepsi commercial?" Adam asked.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Ronnie and everyone had a hard laugh at Mario's expense.

"Dude, just fuck off and leave us alone." Colt glared. "Try and keep up."

"I will have the last laugh!" Mario pointed. Killian snuck up behind Mario and ripped his wig off, revealing the top of his head being completely devoid of fur.

"HEY! GIVE THAT BACK!" Mario screamed as he chased after a grinning Killian.

"What a fucking douche." Colt grunted to Ronnie, who just shook his head in disdain.

"This better be worth it..." Todd grumbled.

"Seems like old times, huh?" Ronnie chuckled, as he made a final adjustment to his leather gloves. Shirtless in just his leather pants and boots, Ronnie took a deep breath and ran a paw through his hair to push it back away from his face. The announcer was introducing them after the last act finished. The audience was loud and rambunctious.

"These guys look like they're about ready to throw down! Throw down some badass tunes! HARD TIMES!"

The curtain was drawn, and Ronnie saw the dance floor packed with cheering spectators. Strobe lights flashed and flickered, and colorful spotlights glared. The Doberman ran out front and took command immediately with his son "Ride Away", their first song to make it big. It was a fast paced mix of hard rock and metal, and Ronnie sang it with his belting voice. The crowd cheered as they all played their instruments fast and hard. Ronnie watched everyone's reaction and it brought back all the memories of singing live at gigs. He loved every moment of it, and it showed in his moves and the confident grin on his face. He finished "Ride Away", and sang a cover of Little Caesar's "Same Old Story". Feeling it was all or nothing, Ronnie gave his max performance.

"Susie says I always want it, Susie says I need it every day

She ain't that kind of woman, so wontcha put that sleaze away

Then I busted her with Bobby, going down another time

It's the same old story, comin' at a different time,

It's the same old story, with the same old lines"

Ronnie tipped his head back as he struck a pose on one of the amps, the flash of cameras firing as he looked back at an excited looking Colt and Killian, who nodded in approval. Ronnie grinned and gave a thumbs up as he flipped his hair back.

"It's the same old story, comin' at a different time,

It's the same old story, with the same old, same old...

It's the same old story, comin' at a different time,

It's the same old story, with the same old lines

It's the same old story, comin' at a different time,

It's the same old story

Here we go baby,

Here we go baby, again, again, again and again and again..."

When Ronnie finished the song, his hearing was completely saturated by the cheers of the crowd. Ronnie struck one final pose with his friends, and the curtain was drawn.

"Holy fuck~" Colt laughed. "Like old times!"

"We still got it!" Killian exclaimed.

"Steely eyed missile man there, Ronno!" Don exclaimed.

"We cinched this!"

While other members of the contest sang, Ronnie and his friends got some drinks and talked with people who were impressed by their singing. Ronnie looked content as he downed a couple of beers with everyone.

"So you guys still make music?" a buff leather wolf asked Ronnie and Colt, as he drank a beer with them.

"Well, it's been five years since we got kicked off the label, and kind of blacklisted, so we do write stuff still, and work on things, but other than small gigs, this is pretty much what you see!" Colt explained.

"You guys need to get back into music, man. That was fucking awesome."

"Maybe someday!" Ronnie exclaimed. "Anything's possible, ya know?"

Ronnie saw in the corner of his eye the announcer go up and announce the next act, which was the pretentious Mario.

"Oh god, here it comes..." Don said to his brother with a chuckle.

"Everyone don your ear plugs~" Colt smirked.

Mario grabbed the microphone as the song "Poker Face" started to play, and Ronnie immediately had to hold back from laughing at Mario's hideous sounding voice. He tried to sing too high of pitch and he couldn't hit the notes, and it came out sounding uneven, with occasional feedback howls piercing through. The audience started to boo him.

"Eww! Get new material!" Killian yelled.

"BOO!" Colt grinned. Soon the whole audience was loudly booing the Doberman, who looked cross as he stowed the microphone.

"Fuck you guys!" Mario shouted. He grabbed a stool and threw it at the audience, who responded by pelting Mario with bottles. One hit Mario in the head and took his wig off, which made Ronnie and the boys burst out laughing.

"Oh god someone took the dead animal off his head!" Adam laughed hysterically.

"Serves you right, Mario, ya fuck!" Ronnie shouted with a laugh as he watched Mario grab his wig and run off stage, looking horribly embarrassed.

$1,000 sat in Ronnie's paws as he looked at the crisp, neatly written check. They had stolen the show and won first place. His band mates decided to give all the money to Ronnie, to help him since he was going to have a small paycheck. Under the glow of the streetlights, they took their equipment back to Killian's truck. Ronnie stood in the bed and helped pack up the drums.

"Holy shit, that brought back a lot of memories." Todd said to them. He winced a bit and rubbed a knee. "I shouldn't have done that jump~"

"Not a spring chicken anymore!" Killian exclaimed, as he rubbed his neck. "Fuck, I twisted my neck on that head bang too!"

"Ha!" Ronnie snickered. "Old fucks!"

"You're not far behind~" Todd laughed. "You'll blink and the next thing you know, you're forty-one!"

"I'm thankful my voice still has it." Ronnie admitted.

"Well you don't smoke or excessively drink, so that probably helps!" Adam pointed out.

"Or take copious drugs like my girlfriend ended up doing..." Ronnie grumbled. "Too soon?"

"Here, can you give me a hand with this amp, Ron?"

Ronnie jumped down to help Adam. He bent down to grab the amp, when suddenly he felt someone grab him by the hair. Ronnie was yanked back, and abruptly punched in the face by a very enraged husky.

"THANKS FOR GETTING ME FUCKING DISMISSED FROM MY JOB!" screamed the police officer, who had thrown Colt off the bike.

The punch knocked Ronnie into a mailbox, and momentarily stunned him. Killian spun around and blocked the husky from kicking Ronnie. He blocked a punch and the twice as big malamute decked the husky in the face. Adam shoved Ryben into the wall, and Todd kneed him in the gut. The husky shoved Adam back into Ronnie, who caught him. Ronnie went on the offensive, and the Doberman, bleeding from his nose, punched Ryben in the face repeatedly.

"THIS IS FOR THROWING MY FUCKING KID!" Ronnie screamed. He grabbed him by his hair and repeatedly punched him in the face. Colt, Todd, Killian, Don, and Adam all hit and kicked Ryben, blooding his face completely, and ripping his shirt up. Ronnie gave the knockout punch, a powerful upper cut that whipped the husky's head back. He landed on his back, motionless. Ronnie and the boys knocked his lights out.

"Holy fuck..." Don muttered. "Who's this muddafucker?"

"Ex-police officer Ryben, fourth precinct." Ronnie said in a grumpy tone. "He fucking threw my kid off the bike and went through his backpack."

"Oh well, fuck that pig." Todd laughed.

"Great..." Ronnie shook his head, as people watched all over.

The police were summoned and an ambulance ended up taking Ryben away in a stretcher. He most likely got a severe concussion in the fight. Ronnie got treated for his bloody nose, and all of them were detained by police, itching to bust some bikers for something. Police even took the opportunity to search their vehicle and all their belongings, finding nothing of course. It wasn't until security footage from Hydrate was reviewed that revealed that Ryben started the fight. It set all of them free, but with a stern warning about fighting. Getting the truck packed, up, they quickly took off and went back to Ronnie's place to relax and hang out for the night.

Putting some of his prize money to use, Ronnie rode in Killian's truck with his son, and Adam. The green Tundra rolled down the road, carrying strapped down in its bed, a new boxed hot water tank from Home Depot. They were on their way to pick up a refrigerator that was offered for sale on Craigslist.

"Well I hope this new fridge ain't shit..." Ronnie said from the backseat. "I'm a lil' concerned about the low ball price tag of three hundred bucks..."

"Well you never know until you see it~" Adam motioned with his paws.

"Well ready or not!"

The fridge was for sale in the uppity-up neighborhood of Andersonville. Killian pulled up to the house, an old narrow brick home, flanked by other narrow brick homes with tree lined yards. Ronnie hopped out and met the owner at the door, who told them to pull around back to the garage in the alleyway. Killian turned around and pulled into the alley where the owner met them in the small driveway.

"Well here she is, she's a couple years old, and super cold..." the owner, an older white wolf pointed out. "She just needs a deep cleaning."

Ronnie opened the door and immediately slammed it, his face wrinkled in horrific disgust. He felt a blast of cold air that smelled like soured milk and rotting eggs. "WHOA!" The Dober exclaimed.

"See?"

"What? What?" Killian asked as he opened the door to smell it. His eyes went huge and the malamute slammed the door shut. "EWW!" he shouted. "Did you hide a body in this?"

"We went on vacation for two weeks, and apparently the breaker tripped and nobody saw it... and everything inside went bad... and we decided it was best to just get a new fridge."

"Hence the low ball offer..." Ronnie stared.

"Well it can be deep cleaned!" the wolf exclaimed. "Here, I got some bleach and dish soap that should be able to clean it up..."

The wolf went inside to go fetch some cleaning supplies. Adam leaned towards Ronnie and mumbled "shouldn't this have been done in the first fucking place?" Ronnie just shook his head and chuckled at the black and rust Dober.

After a deep clean and lots of scrubbing, Ronnie rode back to his apartment with the fridge strapped down with his hot water tank. Getting a message on his phone, Ronnie found that he got an e-mail notification. He found that it was an e-mail from Rob Barion, complete with the file link for the music video he had promised he'd edit and sent to him.

"Oh hell yes!" Ronnie exclaimed. "I just got that music video that we made at Lincoln Park!"

"Oh really? They actually cut that together?" Killian asked as he slowed up to a red light.

"Yeah! I can't wait to see it."

"Yeah!" Adam exclaimed.

"Oh that reminds me... so guys... what do you think of this? So I showed those guys, Rob, and Varg, some of my music mixes and Varg was so impressed that he offered me a job as his sound engineer?"

"Oh?" Adam and Killian both asked as they glanced back at Ronnie.

"Really?" Adam added.

"The only catch is that I would have to move to Ohio." Ronnie added. "I just... I don't know if I want to uproot myself from Chicago for... Ohio?"

"Like move for a job, Dad?" Colt asked.

"Yeah~" Ronnie nodded. "I just... I don't know."

"I mean, I would, if I was you." Adam admitted. "Dude, that's serious bucks right there! You're barely keeping your head above the water, and this is your big chance!"

"It's a leap into the unknown, and Colt has to finish out school to summer, and it's-"

"Dude. I'd do it." Killian added.

"I'd have to join another chapter too, and you guys would be so far away."

Adam just laughed. "Ron, stop making excuses. It's Ohio, okay? We can just drive out and visit you on a weekend or something. It's not the end of our friendships, dingleberry!"

"Ha, dingleberry~" Killian snickered.

"Maybe I should think more about it~"

"Yes."

After dragging the old fridge and hot water tank out of the apartment, and getting everything installed, Ronnie and the boys gathered around the television to watch the new music video. Ronnie plugged his laptop into the TV and got the music video loaded on his laptop. He hit play and took a seat in front of the screen to watch. The video was pillarboxed on the widescreen TV, and a title card came up first, bearing the logo of "Barev Video Services". It had white Helvetica text over a blue background. It had the videotape look and feel.

"BAREV VIDEO SERVICES WHIN-TV

Title: "Hard Times: 'Goin' Down'"

Length: 3:32

Camera Ops: R. Barion, D.A Tokarev

Camera: Ikegami HL-791/Beta SP

Editor: R. Barion"

Ronnie watched intensely at the music video, which showed various shots of the band playing a cover of a Bruce Springsteen song. A smile emerged on the dog's face at the video that played before him. It was cut pretty fast together, and it looked seamless and sounded fantastic. Everyone joked about all the multiple takes they had to do to get the shots needed with just two cameras. But it looked seamless. Ronnie remarked that it looked like something "right outta MTV!" There were a few extra shots that depicted Ronnie and the boys mingling around other parts of Chicago, shot at dusk. The pictures were dim outside of the floodlight's beam, and the streetlights and headlights of passing cars left light streaks that faded quickly in the picture, something Rob had called "comet-tails". Other than some of the scenery, it looked and felt like an eighties video.

"I'm goin' down, down, down, down

I'm goin' down, down, down, down

I'm goin' down, down, down, down"

"Wow!" everyone exclaimed.

"Brings back memories~" Todd said, shaking his head. "Can't believe it was that long ago."

"Yeah." Ronnie nodded. "That's what I loved about last night. That energy, people cheering us on."

"The good ole days~" Colt Janssen chuckled. "Now it's me and the Kills here yelling and doing adult daycare at the warehouse!"

"Or telling someone who makes fifty grand a year they're not getting the half million dollar loan for the house!" Adam laughed.

"Or telling some young shit not to smash their brains all over the pavement." Todd smirked.

"Or in my case, fucking telling me you didn't want mayo on the burger!" Ronnie exclaimed with a hearty laugh with everyone.

"Poor Ronnie!" Don laughed.

"Hey! Ronno, tell everyone about your job offer?" Adam spoke up.

"Oh god, c'mon Adam..."

"Ronnie here got offered a sound engineer job in Ohio by that Varg fella!" Adam pointed. "And Ron isn't sure about it!"

"Dude! Do it!" Don and Todd exclaimed. "That's your big break!" Todd pointed.

"Yeah man, you should take that leap." Colt nodded. "Get out of this shithole and spread your wings."

"Oh god... I just... I feel unsure about putting my fate into someone else's hands... I mean... what if something goes horribly wrong?"

"What if something horribly goes wrong here?" Colt asked him. "Take a look around you, Ron. This place is an absolute shithole..."

"It's an oasis of paradise..." Don teased.

"We all got burned putting your fate into the hands of a bunch of empty suits... but you can't let that one setback doom you into a life of toiling for nothing!" the Arctic wolf added. "Think about your son..."

Ronnie had a look of thought on his face as the screen door opened to little Colt running in with some of his friends.

"Dad! We wanna see the music video!" little Colt exclaimed. His friends cheered and excitedly greeted everyone.

Ronnie got up to reset the video and saw Zack enter through the screen door.

"Hey bud!" smiled Ronnie as he greeted Zack. Going to give him a friendly pat on the back, Ronnie watched Zack instantly recoil to his friendly pat. "ooofph!" he groaned.

"What's the matter, buddy?" Ron asked. He saw something reveal from beneath the collar to Zack's shirt. Upon closer examination, Ronnie found a new bruise on the young wolf, near the back of his neck and his upper back. The welt made it look like it was relatively fresh too. Ronnie's face immediately grew cross.

"I had another accident, Ronnie~"

Looking out the window, he saw Susan and Jeff outside, walking towards the car. The Dober immediately marched for the door.

"Boys... I need you..."

Without words, his friends all got up and followed Ronnie out the back door to the apartment's yard.

"Susan! Come here!" Ronnie shouted.

The gray furred wolfess immediately stopped in her tracks and turned around to see Ronnie marching towards her. She froze and clearly looked hesitant.

"Uhh... look Zack had a bad fall at school and the doctor took a look at that! He said it looks worse than what it actually is!"

"Yeah, fucking sure, that's what they all fucking say! Don't you have a better lie, Susan!?"

"What are you trying to say!?" Susan scoffed, looking offended. "I don't have to prove shit to you, Ron! You just accusing me of lying!"

Emerging from the car was Jeff Brown, the overweight Dad of Zack. A black and gray wolf, with a messy mop of graying black hair, he wore sweatpants and a slightly snug t-shirt that did not hide his gut. "What's the fucking problem?"

Ronnie pushed Susan aside and marched up to Jeff, who slammed his car door shut. "What the fuck is your malfunction, Ron?"

Furious, Ronnie shoved Jeff into his car and pinned him to it. "Fucking hit the kid huh!?"

"You motherfucker!" Jeff yelled. He tried to punch Ronnie, but was quickly blocked. The Dober punched Jeff in the gut and kicked him. Susan tried to intervene, but was detained by Colt and Todd, who grabbed and held onto her arms.

"NO! RON! DON'T!" Susan screamed.

"I told you, Susan!" Ronnie yelled.

"Fucking beat your kid huh?" Killian scoffed as he kicked Jeff in the crotch. He fell to his knees and was immediately just pummeled by Ronnie, Killian, Don, and Adam. Jeff was repeatedly punched and kicked as Susan screamed.

"How's it feel motherfucker!?" Adam yelled.

"LET ME GO!" Susan screamed.

"He's gonna learn!" Todd yelled. "He's gonna fucking learn!"

Zack watched with a look of shock on his face with little Colt and their friends. Ronnie and everyone broke off the fight, leaving Jeff to lie on the pavement, his face bloodied, as he cried.

"Crying like a little girl, huh? You hear this little girl here?" Don laughed with a grin. "Yeah? Hurts don't it? What do you think your kid and wife feel when you beat the shit outta them!"

"You are all fucking psychopaths!" screamed Jeff. "I'm gonna call the police!"

"Good! I'd love to bring up the child abuse and domestic violence as well!" Ronnie laughed.

Colt and Todd let Susan go, and she ran over to grab her husband. Susan looked furious at Ronnie.

"You just don't understand!" Susan screamed.

"I do! It's called domestic violence, Susan." Ronnie shook his head. "I told you. He hits Zack again, I'll beat the shit outta him!"

Susan helped Jeff up, and he quickly retreated to his apartment. Susan grabbed Zack and quickly ran away from Ronnie, leaving little Colt and his friends to just frown as their friend was taken away. Ronnie looked over and saw his son watching. Regret instantly hit him.

"Oh no, c'mon, Colty, let's go inside... you shouldn't have seen that..."

"Well he definitely got the message..." Killian rolled his blue eyes.

At bedtime, Ronnie stepped into Colt's bedroom to see Colt getting his bed ready. The young Dober hopped into bed and pulled the blanket over him as he got himself situated.

"Colty, I'm sorry you saw that."

"Dad, why did you beat up Zack's Dad?"

Ronnie looked regretful as he knelt beside his son's bed. "Zack's Dad was hurting him... and it really made me upset... and... I did something really regretful when me and my friends beat him up. I wanted to teach him a lesson."

"Zack's Dad was hurting him?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Sometimes people let their frustrations and anger get the best of them, and they lash out at people. Sometimes parents take their anger out on their children, because they're not able to fight back."

Colt fumbled his brow and looked at his Dad with sad eyes. "But you don't hit me?"

"Of course not!" Ronnie exclaimed. "You're my perfect son that I've always wanted, so why would I ever do something like that?"

"Why would Zack's Dad hit him? Is that why Zack would get bruises all the time?"

Ronnie nodded.

"Why would he be mean to Zack? Zack is a really nice kid?"

"Why does anyone do the things that they do?" Ronnie asked with a shrug. "If we had the answer, we could prevent it. Zack's Dad has a problem with alcohol, and it clouds his judgment, and he lets his frustrations in his life get the best of him."

"So that's why you beat up Jeff?"

"I wanted Jeff to learn the hard way, and to know how it feels to be hit." Ronnie nodded. "But I shouldn't have. I let my own frustration get the best of me. You see why beating people up is a bad thing?"

"Just make it look like an accident!" Colt exclaimed. Ronnie couldn't help but laugh.

"Wouldn't the mob love to hear that~" laughed Ronnie. "Two wrongs don't make a right, Colty. But sometimes some people only learn the hard way~"

"I see!"

"Alrighty, lil' man, let's get ready for bed." Smiled Ronnie.

"Okay! Good night, Dad! Love you!"

Ronnie smiled, ruffled Colt's hair and kissed the top of his head. "Good night, lil man~ Dad loves you!"

"Night!"

Ronnie turned the light off to the bedroom and closed the door. Ronnie turned to look at his dilapidated apartment and thought a bit more about that job offer. His mind got overwhelmed by constantly weighting the pros and cons; he'd have a dream career, lots of money, and a chance at restarting his music career. But it would be in Ohio, far away from his friends. There were too many unknowns that made the dog get cold feet. Maybe he would just sleep on it.

One Week Later

Toiling for the week left Ronnie exhausted by Saturday. In the steamy hot kitchen, Ronnie listened to the griddle and fryers sizzle away, while he washed dishes. Looking half asleep, Ronnie went through the motions as he washed off plates, dunked them into the soapy water, and scrubbed with a sponge. He repeated the process over and over, almost autonomous, without thinking. His mind was thinking about other issues.

It seemed that when it rained, it poured; during the week, his back tire blew out on his bike, and he had to quickly get a replacement, which ended up costing more than what he wanted. He had an unexpected bill come up from one of Colt's vaccination appointments, and to add insult to injury, the electrics to his apartment were acting up. He never seemed to catch a break. Ronnie felt as though he was cursed and condemned to bad luck. He sure wished he could have another music contest to win money from!

After another long day at work, Ronnie departed at night to head back home. Alone on the roads back to his apartment, Ronnie always took the time to think, and enjoy the cool air blasting against him, in contrast to the stagnant, sweaty kitchen. If there was any consolation in the week, it was that his neighbors stopped fighting, after Ronnie staged an "intervention". Jeff and Susan's screaming matches were gone, and Zack no longer had new bruises. If Jeff saw Ronnie step out, he quickly retreated away. Ronnie made his point across.

Rumbling back into the "oasis", Ronnie parked his bike and took a moment to stare at his broken Civic. It looked like an embarrassing eyesore sitting at an angle. Walking to his apartment door and unlocking it, Ronnie flipped on the living room light to see it flicker, and the light switch make a popping sound as he manipulated the switch. He fumbled his brow in concern. The apartment really needed an electrician. Another "to do" list for his landlord.

Checking on his son, who was sound asleep in bed, Ronnie smiled at Colt looking calm as he slept under his space themed blanket. Gently shutting the door, Ronnie took his leather jacket and vest off, and stowed those on his chair. He stripped down to a pair of sweat pants and his tanktop as he turned the light off and laid out on his couch to get some much needed rest.

Ronnie dreamed about being a sound engineer. He envisioned himself at work in a fancy studio, surrounded by the latest and greatest. He dreamed about mingling with A-list musicians and bands, and raking in all the dough. His name would be credited on album covers. He dreamed that it would kick start his band again, and they'd all be jamming away, having a good time. He'd be financially secure, and could be the best dad to his son. But suddenly, things in his vision seemed hazy, like they were enveloped by a choking cloud of smoke.

Tossing and turning, a harsh beeping sound awoken Ronnie, who found the air to his apartment suddenly acrid and suffocating. Blue eyes opened to an orange glow, and Ronnie felt heat near his feet. He looked up to see giant flames erupting from the wall. His eyes went huge suddenly.

"OH MY GOD!" screamed Ronnie. "COLT! COLT!"

In a panic, the Doberman shoved his bare feet into his sneakers, and grabbed his leather vest and jacket. He saw that the flames were now consuming his laptop and all his audio gear. As he screamed for his son, Ronnie hacked and cough through the smoke and grabbed a couple pictures that sat on a dresser. A picture of his Dad, and a portrait of Ronnie, Misty, and a very young Colt. He shoved his wallet and keys into his jacket.

The bedroom door opened to Colt, who froze when he saw the flames. "DAD!" screamed the kid. "DAD! Get down to the ground!"

Coughing, his eyes burning, Ronnie made his way to Colt's bedroom, where he slammed the door shut.

"Get your clothes on!" Ronnie yelled. He shoved Colt into a pair of sweat pants and a sweatshirt, threw his shoes on, and prepared to escape. Smoke began pouring from the bottom of the door.

Ronnie tried to open the window, but found that the years of it being shut swelled the seals on it. It would not budge. In desperation, Ronnie grabbed Colt's desk chair and threw it against the glass, which shattered. He kicked away the big shards and helped Colt out. Ronnie quickly jumped out and grabbed him as they ran away.

The apartment building was on fire, and people were evacuating as flames licked from windows. Ronnie and Colt retreated back to the parking lot, as other tenants awoke to see the inferno.

"Dad are you okay!?" Colt asked.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm okay..." Ronnie said as he frantically rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

"Dad? What about your eyes?"

"They're burning real bad... I could use some water..."

Colt helped his Dad sit down and the kid ran to get help. A moment later, the young Dober came running back with a bottle of water in his grip. He helped Ronnie lay down on the cool damp grass and Colt gently washed his eyes with the cold water.

Soon the first fire truck arrived, and the apartment complex was well lit up by this point. Ronnie could only watch helplessly as his apartment began to be completely consumed by an inferno. Everything that he owned, was slowly being destroyed before his eyes.

"Dad... all my toys..." Colt frowned, watching the flames emerge through his bedroom window. "Our home!"

"I know, Colty, it's okay~" Ronnie assured.

Colt wiped some tears from his eyes, and he put his head into his Dad's belly as he sobbed. Ronnie held his son and comforted him as he cried. Feeling a raindrop hit his nose, Ronnie looked up at the low overcast sky, as it began to unleash rain on them. "Oh no..." he thought to himself.

As the rain picked up in intensity, Ronnie took his leather jacket off and put it on Colt. He gave him his vest to use as an umbrella, and Colt shielded himself from the rain with it. Ronnie's long hair grew wet and clung to his face as he watched the flames in his soaking wet sweatpants and tanktop. Even from a distance, he could feel the heat. Firefighters tried in vain to control the blaze, but Ronnie watched helplessly as his apartment soon collapsed into a flaming hole, and the rest of the building began to collapse.

"Dad? What are we going to do?"

"I just realized that I left my phone inside." Chuckled the dog. "Well, Colt, I don't know."

Colt looked up to his Dad with sad eyes. "Dad, we don't have a home now!"

"I know."

Thinking of what to do, Ronnie went and borrowed someone's phone. He tried in vain to call his friends, but it was the middle of the night, with a random phone number, and no one picked up. He dialed his boss' number, and after several rings, the groggy voice of Paul answered.

"Hello..."

"Paul? This is Ronnie."

His voice perked up. "Oh Ronnie, I uhh, didn't recognize the number?"

"I'm borrowing a phone. I really need your help... my apartment is on fire."

"WHAT. What, are you okay!? What about Colt?"

"We're okay. We got out okay. We're just stuck in this rain and have no place to stay!"

"Come to the Corral, Ron. I'll meet you there!"

"Okay, Paul. Thank god. I'll see you shortly. Bye."

Handing the phone back, Ronnie ran back to grab his son. "C'mon, lil man, we gotta head to my workplace."

"Why?"

"Paul's gonna meet us there." Ronnie motioned as he put an arm around Colt and walked him to his Fatboy. He picked Colt up and put on his bike, and Colt handed him his vest to wear. Ronnie threw it on over his soaking wet tanktop, and the two quickly departed after Ronnie informed a police officer that him and his son made it out of the fire alive. Firing his bike up, its head lamp glowed into the downpour as they took off.

Ronnie and Colt braved the torrent of rain that fell from the low hanging sky. Through the empty water logged streets they drove. Ronnie tried to think of a plan to get out of this, but his mind drew a blank. The odds were not in his favor this time. The fear of being homeless really sat heavy on his mind.

Rumbling into the parking lot of the biker bar, "Paul's Corral", Ronnie parked and helped Colt down, where Paul waited for them at the door. He quickly whisked Ronnie and his son inside.

"Let's get you dried off!" Paul said to Colt as he patted the young Dober dry with a towel. "Whoa boy, you smell like smoke!"

"Yeah!" Colt exclaimed. "It just happened so fast."

"I can imagine, Colty~" the burly wolf said as he tried the top of the boy's head.

Ronnie grabbed his long hair and wrung it out. It looked like a complete mess atop his head. Paul handed him a towel to dry off as well.

"Ron, I don't know what to say~" Paul frowned. "I'm sorry that you've been going through such hardship lately."

"I should be used to it by now... it's only been... five years." Ronnie grumbled. "Maybe had I not agreed to flying our gear and Eddy, Lisa, and Sam on that fucking unsafe plane... I'd be rich and successful now, not a washed up has-been!"

"Now Ron, let's not beat ourselves up here..."

"Oh my god, I don't know what to do..." Ronnie sighed. "I have no money in my bank account, and now I have no place to stay."

Paul frowned and offered him to stay at his home. As him and Ronnie talked over the situation, Colt walked up, holding a business card in his paw. "Hey Dad? I found this!"

Ronnie looked at the business card and immediately recognized the name Varg Eikemo. He remembered again about the job offer in Ohio. He accepted it from Colt and glanced at the card, with Varg's personal number written on it.

"Paul, please don't take it personal, but I was offered a job in Ohio as a sound engineer to a well known rocker, Varg Eikemo~"

"Why would I take that personal?" Paul chuckled. "You should take it, Ron."

"Ya know, people have been telling me I should, but I'm nervous about uprooting myself completely from Chicago."

"You don't have anything to lose now." Paul said. "You should take it! Fulfill your destiny, Ron!"

"But you need me, Paul."

Paul put a burly tattooed arm around Ronnie and got him to sit down on a stool at the bar. Paul leaned in to be close to his friend.

"Ron, I've known you since you were a little kid. The very first time I met you, you were four years old, peering around your Dad's leg at the clubhouse looking all shy at the big biker dudes~ You have talents that are amazing- stuff I could only dream of. The first time I heard you sing, it was like angels getting their wings. I was blown away. So was your Dad. Your Dad was so happy that you made an album with your friends, and that you were starting to get famous. He saw you finding your role in life. In the five years you've been working here, you've worked your fingers to the fucking bone. You have been here almost every day, never late, and you've given this place your best. You have worked yourself to exhaustion for your son. I am holding you back by having you work here, Ron. It pains me to see you toil, and I can't pay you any more money because of the bottom line. You've kept yourself out of trouble, the sirens of easy money in the criminal underworld that dooms many Angels... you've done all that for your son's sake."

Ronnie took Paul's words in and nodded slowly as he pushed his damp matted hair out of his face.

"I know it's scary and daunting to uproot yourself. Think about what your Dad felt when he moved from Queens to Chicago. You have nothing to lose with this offer that wasn't lost in that fire. Do this for your son. Do this for your own happiness and destiny. I'll be okay here! I've been through worse times!"

Paul grabbed his old Bell Telephone from under the bar and sat it beside Ronnie. "Please give them a call."

Ronnie glanced down, thought about it, and nodded in acceptance. He picked the handset off the receiver and dialed Varg's number on the number pad. It rang several times and went to his voicemail.

"Hi Varg, this is Ron Samson- we met in Chicago about a week or so ago when you saw me and my friends play at the park. You offered me a job as your sound engineer... and I hate to call at this hour, but I really wish you could call me back at this number here. I need some help, please. Thanks."

Ronnie hung the phone up and took a deep breath. He felt his anxiety spike. He sat alone at the bar, watching Paul check up and talk to Colt, when the phone rang a few minutes later.

"Hello?" Ronnie answered.

A very groggy Varg answered back. "Hello... this is Varg, I got a call on this number..."

"Varg! This is Ron Samson- we met at Lincoln Park recently and you offered me the sound engineer job!"

There was a short pause before Varg answered. "Oh, yeah, right."

"I hate to call you at this hour, but are you still looking for that position?"

"Yeah."

"Can I please be your sound engineer? I...I really need some help right now... my... apartment burned down during the night."

"Are you okay?" Varg asked him, his voice loosing the grogginess. "Are you safe? What about your son?"

"We're okay. We made it out with just the clothes on our backs and a few trinkets. Everything's gone."

"Where are you at right now?"

"We're at the Corral, my workplace, this is the telephone number here."

"Okay. I want you to stay near the phone- this is a good number to call, yes?"

"Yeah."

"I'm gonna wake my neighbor up and devise a plan to get you outta there. Hold tight for me! I promise I will call you back as soon as I can!"

"Thank you, Varg."

"You're hired, by the way." Chuckled the wolf. "Call you back shortly. Bye."

Ronnie put the phone back on the receiver and leaned back against the bar. Paul returned to check on Ronnie.

"Well?"

"Looks like I'm~" Ronnie said with a smile faintly emerging on his strained face. "He's gonna call me back about getting me to Ohio."

"You're making the right decision, and it'll pay off in the end. I know it~" Paul said with an assuring smile.

"Well, I sure hope so."

"What do you have to lose?" Paul asked him.

"My friends?"

"They'll be around~ True friends at least. I just ask... please stay in touch, and visit once in a while~"

Paul pulled Ronnie into a tight hug. Ronnie responded by putting his arms around Paul for a warm embrace with his family friend. Paul felt like the closest thing to a father after his Dad's passing.

"Make your Dad proud, Ron~"

"I will."

Braving the downpour, the rain almost blinding him, Ronnie and Colt drove to Chicago Midway Airport, to catch their flight to Newark, in central Ohio. Colt held onto his Dad as they battled the soaking rain. Both of them were soaking wet as Ronnie pressed on. Following Varg's advice, including a conversation with Rob Barion, he was to pull up to the gate that accessed the flight ramp, and wait for a security guard to let them in to access the maintenance hangar to Centoh Intermodal.

Pulling into Chicago Midway, Ronnie followed the signs and pulled up to a gate, which was topped with barbed wire and a RESTRICTED sign on it. He was soon greeted by a heavily armed security guard of Barev.

"State your business!" the guard commanded. "Senior Lieutenant Bruckner, of the second division, SB-Viking Battalion of Barev!"

"Ronnie Samson, and my son Colt. We were told to come here by Rob Barion." Ronnie told the guard, who radioed it in. He soon got the authorization and opened the gate for Ronnie. He pointed for the hangar. Ronnie took off and rolled onto the flight line of Centoh Intermodal. In front of him, a huge hangar towered over, with "FLY CENTOH CHICAGO" in glowing red letters, reminding him of something from the 1960's. Ronnie was guided to the brightly lit hangar, where a huge DC-7 sat inside, undergoing maintenance. Ronnie parked the bike and hopped off with Colt, dripping wet and feeling cold.

"Good morning!" came an older gray wolf. He was slightly chubby, wearing a red polo shirt with the Centoh logo embroidered on the pocket, and gray slacks. His hair was graying and tousled. "I'm Gary Morton, hub director for Centoh Chicago. Rob informed me of your arrival. I have some donuts and coffee over there, and some towels so you can dry yourselves off. Would you like me to fire up the heater?"

"Yes please."

While they waited for the plane, Ronnie and Colt munched on some donuts while they dried themselves off by an oil fired heater. The hot blast of oil smelling air felt good as they slowly dried themselves off. Ronnie sipped at some coffee, while Colt drank a bottle of apple juice. About half an hour later, they were informed that Rob had arrived at Midway.

Taxiing in through the rain was a bright silver propliner, the majestic "Coneflower", a restored Super Constellation. Ronnie and Colt watched in awe as the curvaceous old Lockheed taxied in towards the hangar. Four massive radial engines drove glistening propellers that were shined to a mirrored finish. The tips spin red, white, and blue circles. The radials belched a steady stream of cherry red flames from their exhaust stubs, with a deep, throaty growl at low power. As the propliner turned around, Ronnie read "UNITED BAREV INDUSTRIES LTD." on the upper fuselage. It's nose bore a golden arrow motif that read "WHIN", and depicted a globe and Ohio in its design. Ronnie watched in amazement at the sight and sound.

With the engines still running, the airstair was quickly pressed against the rear fuselage door, which swung open to reveal Varg stepping out first. He very quickly donned his umbrella, and walked down, followed by Rob, wearing what looked like a green chemical suit as a rain coat, complete with booties.

"How can I ever repay you!" Ronnie exclaimed to Varg as he walked up to greet him. Varg smiled and gave Ronnie a pat on the back.

"Let's get you home."

Putting an arm around Colt, Ronnie held the umbrella as Rob greeted him in the downpour. They quickly were whisked up the airstair and into the rumbling plane, where Ronnie found a fancy, executive cabin awaiting him that was warm and artfully lit. Looking back, Ronnie watched as his Fatboy was gingerly carried aboard, having just barely made the tight turn through the narrow hatch. It was stowed in the middle compartment, which looked like a traditional passenger plane, and tied to a seat with some rope. He took a seat towards the nose, at a card table that gave him and Colt an excellent view over the wing and of the big radial engines. As Ronnie sat, he could feel the raw power vibrating through the airframe from those huge churning propellers.

"Dad? Have you ever flown before?" Colt asked.

"Been a long time!" Ronnie exclaimed.

"I'm a little bit scared..."

"Come here, Colty, I got you!"

Colt ran over and sat beside his Dad, who put an arm around him and gave him an encouraging hug. "It's gonna be okay Colty!"

"What about school?"

"Don't you worry about it. I'll take care of it." Ronnie smiled.

"Okay, Dad!"

"Here we go!"

With Rob at the controls with his flight crew, "Coneflower" was turned around and taxied for the runway. Colt and Ronnie watched the scenery pass by as the plane taxied and rolled onto the runway. Commanding maximum power, the four radial engines roared to life, and Ronnie watched in shock as the engines soon shot flames out like an afterburner. Rolling down the runway, the Doberman watched in amazement as the turbines, just visible beneath the cowling petals, glowed red hot. The flames trailed at least a foot back, against the soot covered panels. The roar was amazing. He soon watched, and felt, as the plane was lifted into the air, and the scenery of Chicago started to appear more as they began overflying the city. Colt looked in amazement, the same as his Dad. Soon, the city lights and landscape of Chicago disappeared into the clouds, and the propliner shook and rattled from the turbulence.

"Hold on!" Ronnie exclaimed as Colt felt uneasy about being rocked about.

"Dad! I don't like this!"

"It's okay son! Hold onto me!"

"Okay!"

Ronnie held his son and thought about what the future would be for them. He felt nervous about embarking on a new path in life. He especially felt nervous about essentially handing his fate over to a businessman, just like before with the ruthless record company. But there was no turning back now. He had nothing left to turn back to. Ronnie found his inner strength, and told himself repeatedly that he would do this for his son.

One Month Later

Grabbing a tape off the table, Ronnie opened it up and unscrewed the shipping hub to pull out the big gold reel of Barev 525. He carried it over to the rack mounted audio recorder and loaded it up. Locking the hub, he took the one-inch black oxide tape and fed it through the rollers and capstans, over the head drum assembly, and back up to the take-up reel, which he spun a few times with his free paw to secure the tape. Making sure it was taut, he engaged the lock-up, and went back to his workstation to began the transfer. Getting a new file project started on the DAW, Ronnie hit "transfer" and watched from his seat as the audio recorder began to play back the analog tape for digitization. He sat back and listened to the playback of a rock band's latest work, a task that made the last hour of his day quite relaxing. Ronnie kicked his feet back and relaxed in his plush seat. He loved his new job as Varg Eikemo's junior sound engineer.

Work always ended at four o'clock in the afternoon. Ronnie clocked out and waved goodbye to some of his coworkers as he departed the editing suite for the elevator. He walked over to one of the huge tinted windows that overlooked the property while he donned his biker vest over his charcoal gray t-shirt. Four stories below, he watched his son Colt play with his new friends at the company daycare center. They were all playing soccer in the field. It brought a smile to Ronnie's face. He boarded the elevator and traveled down to the lobby to exit and get his son.

Stepping outside into the warm June sunshine, Ronnie donned his sunglasses and called for Colt with a wave. "Colt! Hey Colty!"

"Coming, Dad!" came Colt, who waved goodbye to his friends.

"Not to take away the fun~" laughed Ronnie as he put an arm around his son as they left. He always looked up at the unique picnic basket building he now worked in. Viking Recording Studios were housed in the former Longaberger Company headquarters, the world famous "Longaberger Basket" building, the most iconic building in all of Licking County.

"Dad, I can't believe you work in a basket!" Colt exclaimed as he was helped onto his Dad's bike. Ronnie couldn't help but laugh as he donned his helmet and climbed on to head home.

"I say the same thing too, Colt~"

Departing work, Ronnie and Colt rode on home. Summertime in Ohio was cheerful and sunny, and everything was lush, green, and in bloom. Hopping on the expressway, Ronnie punched the throttle and took off to merge onto Route 16. Leaving the eastside of Newark, they made their way home to the north end of town. Route 16 passed through the downtown, and Ronnie always liked to glance at it as he passed on through. Newark Ohio was a far cry from the concrete jungle metropolis that was Chicago. The big city boy now lived in a quiet rustbelt community. The downtown of Newark was tiny and insignificant, of old brick buildings flanking the old courthouse that stood smack dab in the center of the city. Even the traffic seemed minor.

Hopping off the expressway at the 11th Street exit, Ronnie and Colt turned right onto 11th, made a left at the light for Granville Street, and further down the road, made a right onto Meadows Avenue, where they entered their subdivision, the Krebs Addition. Crossing Shields Street, it was a straight shot to their cape cod, on the corner of Meadows and Moull.

On the corner sat a little brick cape cod, which had a big maple tree in the front yard, and a detached garage in the back. The house didn't have a driveway, but had a small gravel parking area that replaced the insignificant side yard. Pulling up to the garage, Ronnie hopped off and opened the garage door, revealing his "new" car, a blue 2005 Civic LX. He parked his bike into the garage and stowed it for the evening. Ronnie and Colt walked back inside through the back door, past the growing vegetable and flower gardens they dug in the backseat.

"Hi Colty!" waved Colt's new best friend, a young black wolf named Colby.

"Hi Colby! I'll be out in a minute!" Colt waved back before going inside with his Dad.

Ronnie took his shoes off and stowed them beside the back door. He walked through the kitchen and into the living room, where he stood and just marveled at everything. From the rundown apartment and worn out furniture he once possessed, everything in his cape cod looked brand new. Sometimes he still couldn't believe it. Looking around, he had matching furniture, a huge TV bolted onto the wall, and a fancy desktop workstation on a nice desk in the corner by the fireplace. Looking back around in the kitchen, he had matching stainless steel appliances. All of it was Rob Barion's generosity. He bought the home and everything inside to help Ronnie out as he began his new life in little Newark Ohio. He even gave Ronnie a huge chunk of money to put in his savings account. The only thing Ronnie had left of his old life in Chicago was his leather jacket and patched up vest, and three photos that sat on a shelf above the fireplace.

While Colt played with his friend in the backyard and climbed the big maple in the back, Ronnie got dinner started. He put a roast in the oven and went over to make a salad. It seemed so ingrained in his memory; he only cooked sixty-five hours a week for five years straight! Ronnie finally had energy after work. He didn't feel dead tired and burned out. His mind felt alive again, he felt good. As the roast slowly cooked in the oven, Ronnie stowed the salad in the fridge and he went to his desk after getting a text message from Killian. Waking his desktop up, he opened up Telegram to start a video chat with Killian.

Ronnie found Killian sitting around with their pals, and they all got caught up again on their lives. Despite the distance, their friendship carried on as usual. They were shocked to hear about the loss of his apartment to the fire, but were happy that Ronnie found his dream career. Ronnie leaned back in his chair and laughed with his friends over jokes and stories.

"Hey you remember Ryan Hawk?" Adam chimed in from the corner of the video.

"Yeah?" Ronnie responded.

"Ha, dum-dum got arrested yesterday, along with Darryl, and Dirty Danny."

"Was it the stupid prostitution ring they rang?"

"Yeah." Colt nodded. "So the coppers have been all over us here."

Ronnie chuckled and rolled his eyes. "That's what I told him was going to happen. I guess he wasn't smart enough to outsmart them!"

"Yeah, fuck it." Don chuckled. "I heard you're going to transfer to the Akron chapter?"

"That's the goal. I'm negotiating with them." Ronnie shrugged. "Not sure if I can keep up with my dues five hours away from Chicago!"

"Heh, heh, everyone misses ya, Ronnie." Killian remarked.

"Yeah." The Arctic wolf nodded. "We're gonna have to come on out sometime and hang out with you!"

"Yeah!" Ronnie agreed.

"What's Newark like?"

"Well... it's smaller... and boring... and quiet... and less violent!" Ronnie quipped with a snort. "Kind of... white trash mania?"

"Oh boy..." everyone laughed.

"Eh, fuck it! I'm making dough now!" grinned the dog happily. "I'll take it!"

"We're happy for ya, Ron."

"I appreciate it guys. I miss you guys."

Following dinner and spending the evening with his son, Ronnie called it a night. He stepped into his bedroom and closed the door while simultaneously flipping on the floor lamp in the corner. Ronnie's new bedroom was painted blue and a very light gray, the walls adorned with motorcycle posters, and a "Support 81" banner above his bed. Taking his t-shirt off, Ronnie balled it up and threw it into the hamper, and he stripped his pants off to wear just his blue boxers and black tanktop. The Dog yawned and got his bed ready, before turning the light off. The pale yellow light of a streetlight filtered into his room, casting shadows from the blinds against his bed as he crawled in. Ronnie laid on his back and thought for a moment.

For many years, he was too tired for introspection. But as he laid in his comfy, warm bed, Ronnie looked up at the ceiling, pondering about things. Nighttime felt lonely for him; loneliness never bothered him much, when he was at the knife-edge of ruin, toiling for long hours just to survive. But now that he had free time to himself, loneliness stung like a knife to the heart. He missed his girlfriend Misty, and he missed his Dad. And emerging after years of numbness, he missed his Mom. It had been nineteen years since he had last heard her voice, saying goodbye to him on what was supposed to be a "store run". Now with his Dad gone, he didn't have a family left, save for his son. He had an uncle, who lived a "normal" life in New York, but that side never said much to him or his father. They were scared of their biker lifestyle. Newark was a boring rustbelt town with nothing to do, or nothing really to see. He didn't really have friends to hang out with, save for Varg and some of his music buddies that Ronnie would tag along with and sometimes jam with. But he felt more like a "plus one", at least for now, than a true friend, like his biker pals back home. Ronnie also wondered if he'd ever find himself love again. Someone to replace the hurt in his heart from where Misty left before her time. He pondered if he could ever find a boyfriend, and "explore" that side of his bisexuality again.

His thoughts soon got too overwhelming, and Ronnie had to clear his mind. He blinked and shuttered a bit, and decide it was time for bed. Rolling onto his side, his long locks of hair falling over, Ronnie closed his tired blue eyes and soon drifted off to sleep.

The morning light cast an amber glow over a low lying fog. Dewdrops glistened in the yard on a quiet Saturday morning. Bursting out the front door, Colt ran out to grab the garden hose, with his Dad close behind them. Ronnie, dressed in a tanktop and gym shorts, grabbed a hose as well, the two connected to a Y-splitter at the spigot.

"I got this side, Dad!" Colt exclaimed as he ran off to water the new flowers to the west side of the house. Ronnie focused on watering the flowers around the tree. Seeing his son excited always brought a smile to Ronnie's face. As he slowly watered the flower garden with the nozzle attachment, his neighbor's garage door opened, to reveal Colby and his mother.

"Morning Colty!" Colby waved with a grin. He carried a garbage bag to the trash can by the curb. His mother walked midway down the driveway to pick up the morning newspaper.

"Morning!" Colt excitedly waved back.

"Oh, good morning!" came his mother, a slender gray wolfess. Ronnie had seen her a couple of times, but never really got a chance to talk to her. She was in her mid-thirties, and had light brown hair that was nearly trimmed and permed with a wave to it. She had bright green eyes that stood out from her dark and light gray pelt of fur.

"Oh, morning!" Ronnie smiled. He sat the hose down to meet her. "I'm Ronnie, Colt's Dad."

"Mindy~" she smiled in return. "I'm sorry I haven't had the chance to meet and say hi to you yet!"

"Oh no, it's fine! I was busy too getting all moved in, heh, heh~" Ronnie laughed a bit.

"Your son and my son seem to have hit it off really well." Mindy chuckled. "Colt is a real angel."

"Oh thank you~"

"Usually kids are like the ocean... you never wanna turn your back on them!" laughed Mindy. Her quip made Ronnie chuckle with her.

"Sounds like you know firsthand~"

"I better! I'm a school teacher, right across the street at Johnny Clem."

"Oh!"

"Colt says you're a biker?" Mindy asked.

"Yeah~" Ronnie nodded. "My main gig is a sound engineer now."

"Colt tells me you're one of the strongest, toughest bikers around!" Mindy smiled.

"I know how to take care of myself." The Doberman quipped with a smirk. "But there's more to me than that!"

"I can tell~" Mindy nodded.

"Mindy!" came her father, who poked his head out from the garage door.

"Oh well, coming Dad!" she exclaimed. "Ronnie, it was so nice to finally get to say hi to you~ And I hope we can talk again sometime."

"Yeah, I'd love to!" Ronnie agreed.

"You take care~"

"Same to ya~"

Mindy and Colby went back inside the garage. Her father and Ronnie momentarily made eye contact. The older gray wolf looked nervous at Ronnie's presence. He pressed the switch before turning around to go inside, the garage door sliding down with a clunk at the end. Ronnie picked up the hose and continued watering the plants, eventually meeting back up with Colt by the door to finish.

Stowing the hoses away, Ronnie and Colt took a walk down Meadows Drive. Ronnie had asked Rob if he could borrow his truck, so they could go to the garden center and buy some garden supplies. It was an opportunity to explore on foot, part of the Krebs Addition.

"What do you think we should plant in that corner beside the garage?" Ronnie asked Colt as they walked.

"Maybe a bush that flowers?"

"Like a lilac?"

"Or what about a butterfly bush, Dad!"

"Hey, I like that!" Ronnie smiled. "Some summer color for the backyard."

"Yeah!"

"We also need some mulch and top soil too."

"And more zinnias!"

"Okay, we can get a couple more~" Ronnie chuckled.

"Oh boy!"

Walking up Shields and then making a right onto Karen Parkway, Ronnie and Colt walked up to Rob's home, a single story ranch with a birch tree in the front yard. Next door to him, Varg and his family lived in a white ranch with black shutters on the windows. Parked under the overhang was Rob's cherry red Silverado, a flatbed 3500HD. As Ronnie walked up the driveway, he saw Rob getting the backseat ready.

"Morning, Rob!" Ronnie greeted.

Rob stopped what he was doing, stood up and turned to stand stiffly in front of his guests. Rob had a serious gaze permanently etched onto his scarred and aged face. Ronnie found Rob a hard to understand enigma; he was generous and warm hearted person who put a cold public personality up on display all the time. He was very intelligent, but also ruthlessly cold. Varg had told Ronnie all the stories of Rob's "kick ass incidents".

"Morning, Ronnie and Colt~" Rob greeted. "Well, here she is."

"She's a beaut!" Ronnie exclaimed.

"Take care of 'er. This one was pricey." Rob pointed out as he took a rag and rubbed a piece of dust off the door. "That aluminum bed with the tool box cost me ten grand~"

"Jesus..."

"The tool box has all the straps you need, plus I put in a seat protector so you can haul flowers in the backseat of the crew cab."

"Awesome! I appreciate it, Rob!"

"Not a problem, friendo~"

"I've been thinking about buying a used truck..." Ronnie said to Rob. "Got any leads or know where I could find one that's not all clapped out at a decent price?"

"Well I have a friend who is a landscaper, and I just helped him buy a new fleet of Silverado's... and he's been slowly phasing out the older ones... I'll text him and see what he has and I'll get back to ya~"

"Cool!"

Ronnie got the keys from Rob, and he climbed aboard the driver's side. Colt climbed up and sat in the front seat and buckled himself in. Firing up the Duramax, Ronnie popped it into reverse and gingerly backed the truck out for the road. It took him a second to get the feel of the vehicle's dimensions as he gingerly backed up and turned onto the road. From what Varg had told him, Rob was the last person Ronnie would ever want to upset.

Leaving Krebs Addition, Ronnie and Colt hit the highway and drove east to Albyn's, a garden center near the small village of Hanover. Ronnie passed through the downtown on the expressway, and watched the dilapidated east side of Newark pass in and out of view. He chuckled at the sight of his giant picnic basket shaped workplace as it passed by as well. Following GPS, he turned onto Licking Valley Road and made another right to turn left into the gravel parking lot of Albyn's.

$260 later, Ronnie exited out with a flat cart holding two large pots of butterfly bushes, one a deep purple, the other a more brighter pink color. He also had a flat of zinnias. Colt walked beside him, carrying a pot of red daylilies. Returning to Rob's truck, Ronnie heaved and placed the two heavy bushes up by the bulkhead and grabbed a strap to hold them in place. As he tightened the strap to hold them up against the bulkhead, a forklift rumbled up, carrying a pallet with his top soil and mulch all shrink wrapped together. The pallet was set right atop the axle, and Ronnie watched the dually truck squat a few inches from the weight. He threw two heavy duty straps over the pallet and strapped it down.

"Howdy-do!" came a big blonde furred wolf with long red hair tied into a Viking braid. Ronnie heard the voice and turned around to see the taller wolf approach him with a happy grin. "I heard you're lookin' for a truck?"

The Doberman looked a bit dumbfounded for a moment. "How'd you know?"

"I'm one of Rob's friends! I'm Cyrus Filton~" the wolf introduced himself. He had a slight southern drawl when saying his name.

"Ronnie Samson~" the Dober greeted in return. He was immediate awestruck at how handsome the big wolf was; he was taller than him, and had big meaty arms that were tattooed to the wrists with black and gray sleeves much like his own. He wore a yellow tanktop that bore his company's landscaping logo on it, which read "FILTON'S LANDSCAPING GROUP". Poking up beneath his tanktop was his chest tattoo, which was more black and gray artwork. Beneath a skull patterned bandanna was fire red hair, which poked out the back in a neatly braided ponytail. His goatee and chinstrap was the same fire red. He had snakebite piercings on his lower lip. As Cyrus talked, Ronnie stared in awe at his beauty.

"I got a text from Rob earlier that you were looking to buy a truck, and I have a couple surplus vehicles from my landscaping business I'm looking to sell off as I got a new fleet to expand! So if you'd like to sometime stop by and visit, I'm willing to sell you one at a discount!"

Ronnie had to practically shake his head to get out of his trance. "Oh... oh! That's really nice of you! I'm busy today with my son, but I'll have to see what my schedule is."

"No hurries!" Cyrus grinned. "I'm pretty flexible~" He reached into his shorts pocket and pulled out a business card for Ronnie, which had his number on it.

"Hey, thanks~" smiled Ronnie. "I think I may have some time tomorrow if you're not busy?"

"I'll be hanging out with my boyfriend! But sure! You can stop on over!"

"Boyfriend eh?"

"Yeppers!"

"Stud material~" chuckled Ronnie with a sly smirk.

"You're quite a handsome fella yourself!"

Ronnie immediately blushed, his face turning red beneath his brown fur. "Oh...my...well thank you!"

"So cute!" the wolf grinned big. "And your hair is pretty!"

Ronnie turned even more red. "Hey thanks!" was all he could think of saying. "Yeah, yeah, let me see what my schedule looks like, and I'll give you a shout~ I can text this number right?"

"Yeah!"

"Sounds like a plan!" Ronnie waved with a grin as he turned to finish strapping up.

"You take care, Ronnie!"

"You too!"

Putting the cart away, Ronnie quickly got back into the truck with his son and took off for home. Hopping back onto the highway, the heavily loaded truck felt a bit sluggish as Ronnie put his foot on the gas, and commanded power from the turbodiesel.

"Who was that, Dad?"

"One of Rob's friends apparently." Ronnie remarked. "Looks we're gonna get ourselves a truck!"

"Yay!" Colt exclaimed. "Now we can plant a whole forest!"

"Whoa, let's not get carried away there." Laughed Ronnie. "Baby steps!"

Slowing up upon seeing his house, Ronnie tapped the brake harder when he saw three vehicles sitting along the side of the road. Fumbling his brow, he saw a red sedan, a gray sedan, and a black Dodge Charger. Fumbling his brow in confusion, Ronnie stopped on the road, and told Colt to stay inside the vehicle as he went to see what was going on. As soon as he stepped out, the door to the Charger opened, revealing a middle-aged gray wolf in slacks and a tucked-in polo shirt, a holstered pistol strapped to his hip. He immediately flashed an FBI badge at the Doberman.

"Mister Samson, I'm Special Agent Gary Dove of the Cincinnati branch of the Federal Bureau of Investigations."

Ronnie looked confused at his presence.

Emerging from the sedans of the other two vehicles were two police detectives, one of which came from Chicago. They too flashed their bags.

"Detective Lovell, Chicago PD." Announced a German Shepherd.

"Detective Anderson, Birchwood, Ohio PD." A chocolate lab stated.

"Hello, gentlemen. What can I do for you?"

"We have a few questions we would like to ask you..." Detective Lovell announced.

"Do you have a warrant?" Ronnie asked with a sarcastic tone. His face dropped when he saw Agent Dove show him a warrant.

"Fuck it... fine..." Ronnie grunted. "Can I offer you gents some coffee?"

As Colt played with his friend in the backyard, Ronnie poured some coffee for his "guests" who sat at his small, round dining room table.

"Mister Samson, I have a few questions to ask you concerning the recent bust in Chicago of a prostitution ring that was fun by members of the Hells Angels." Lovell said to him as Ronnie handed him a mug of coffee.

"I heard about that, but I wouldn't know." Ronnie admitted, which got a sarcastic gaze from the cop.

"Did you know a Ryan Hawk? Daniel Skjellerup? And Darryl Dryfus?"

"I know them, yes, but I stay away from shit like that." Ronnie said as he sat down at the table with a cup for himself.

"The prostitution ring included members from Ohio and Michigan chapters of the Hells Angels. There were over three hundred women in this ring, including several trafficking victims."

"That's unfortunate to hear."

"So you know nothing about this?" Lovell pressed, looking suspicious at Ronnie.

"Not at all." Ronnie shook his head. "Again. I stay away from that shit."

"C'mon, Mister outlaw biker!" chuckled Dove. "You really think we're gonna buy this?"

"Hey! I'm an outlaw biker yeah. I wear the patches and shit like that. But I keep my nose outta that criminal bullshit. Ryan had once offered me a 'job' in that scheme to make more money when I was flat broke back home, and I told him to fuck off with that dirty money shit."

Lovell flipped through some paperwork as Dove and Anderson jotted notes down. "Mister Samson, I've gone through your criminal record, and I find none. Save for a speeding ticket that was obtained in the year 2016."

"That's correct."

"So you have no knowledge of this."

"No I don't. Outside of knowing that Ryan, Dan, and Darryl were involved in it. I did not know the extent because I keep my nose outta that, again."

"And you didn't once bother to say anything about it?" Anderson asked.

"Code of honor among Angels. Snitches dig ditches." Ronnie shrugged.

Lovell rolled his eyes at the quip. "Don't you think that attitude hurts innocent people like these women being held captive in deplorable conditions?"

"You don't know the situation they're in when you keep your dickbeaters outta it." Ronnie shrugged. "I know what you guys are trying to do, and I'm used to it, because you're always on my case about everything I do~ You guys think we're all into seedy, illegal shit because 'ohhhh that's what outlaw bikers do!'"

Lovell tapped his pen on the table, and Anderson sucked on his lower lip. Dove made a note on his notepad.

"You have to understand that the red and whites are not like some mafia organization. There's no don, kingpin, crime lord, like the mafia. There's no mandate from the elders on top to do illegal acts. It's literally free will on what the chapters, or individuals do, outside of mandated runs and membership dues. It's the dark side of freedom if you will. No fate but what we make, Detectives. There's good and bad members in the Hells Angels, just as there are good and bad members in law enforcement... you know... like the Officer who ripped my son off my bike and pulled a gun on me..."

Ronnie's little smirk at the end made Lovell grind his teeth.

"Yeah, I get that." Dove nodded. "Why be part of an outlaw biker gang then, Ron?"

"Why not?" the Doberman shrugged. "I like bikes, and I like the lifestyle. I keep out of trouble because of him~"

Ronnie pointed to his son running around in the backyard with Colby.

"He's the reason why I'm not dead yet." Ronnie pointed. "Plus my father made it very clear to me. 'You fuck up, I'mma beat your fucking ass!'. Both my Dad and Grandfather were Hells Angels."

"I see."

"Look, I'm being honest, swearing on my father's grave, that I don't have any information to help you in your investigation. Ryan had once remarked that you have to be smarter than the pigs, and well... I guess he screwed the pooch on that!"

"I guess so~" chuckled Dove as he closed up his planner. "Mister Samson. I must remark that I think you're a pretty well articulated person. Unlike some other bikers I've questioned before."

"Not sure if I should take that as a compliment, or an insult." Chuckled the dog.

"Take it for what it is." Lovell said as he shoved his pen into his shirt pocket. "Alright Mister Samson, you check out. Thank you for your time, and the coffee."

Ronnie nodded and shook their paws as they left. One by one, the vehicles departed, and everything was strangely quiet again. He shuddered a bit and shook his head in disbelief. Taking a moment to regain his bearings, Ronnie grabbed a bandanna, tied it around the top of his head, and went to begin unloading the truck and planting with Colt and Colby.

"Hey lil' man! You have a safe trip to the zoo!" Ronnie waved as Colt sat in the backseat of Mindy's car. Colt and Colby were about ready to depart to go visit the Columbus Zoo in Dublin.

"I will Dad!" Colt exclaimed. "See you later!"

Ronnie smiled and waved from the yard as he watched Mindy pull out of the driveway and depart down the road. Ronnie waved to Mindy's parents before turning to head back inside. He had the day to himself, as he went and got ready for his plans. He was going to go out and see about buying that used landscaping truck.

Stepping back out, Ronnie emerged from his house in black boots, black leather riding pants, and a gray t-shirt under his patched up vest. He strapped his black helmet on, which also bore the "death head" logo, and a pair of dark goggles over his eyes. He climbed onto his Fatboy and took off to Hanover, his intimidated neighbors watching him roar down the road.

Hopping onto Route 16, Ronnie headed east on the expressway, and watched as Newark faded out around him the further east he went. He came up to the final red light on the way towards the city of Coshocton, and made a left onto Marne Road, which merged into Licking Valley Road, which would take him into Hanover proper. As Ronnie rode, he kept his head on a swivel at the scenery passing by him. Outside of Newark, it was all rural farmland and little townships. Unlike the flat and featureless Illinois, this region of Ohio had some small hills off into the distance. But rural life never really interested Ronnie; he was a big city boy, the same as his father. Born in Queens, grew up in Chicago his whole life. Rural life seemed slow and backwards. It was a place where the troglodytes lurked at, the ignorant, slack-jawed hicks, and paranoid survivalists called home.

Making his way into Hanover, Ronnie didn't think much about the tiny little township. Hanover itself literally a five way intersection. There was a baseball diamond, a pizza joint, and a gas station. A small neighborhood branched off on the roads. Then it was countryside again. Hanover came and went as Ronnie followed his GPS. Hopping onto Route 2, the GPS took him to an old farm house, which served as the headquarters to Cyrus' landscaping business. He put his turn signal on and pulled into the gravel lot, where several cars and trucks sat at. There was a large maintenance garage, and a storage area filled with gravel, soil, and mulch. Ronnie hopped off his bike and looked around as he took his helmet off.

Stepping out onto the porch was Cyrus himself. "Hey! You made it!" He had a warm, friendly tone as he ran down to meet Ronnie.

"I don't like being fashionably late~" chuckled the Doberman.

"I love the leathers~ That's hot." Chuckled the wolf with a grin. Ronnie found Ronnie wearing snug Wrangler jeans and a tanktop, his feet shoved into brown leather cowboy boots with pointed tips.

"You're gonna make me blush~" chuckled Ronnie.

"I didn't think I'd ever meet a gay Hells Angel~" Cyrus chuckled.

"Well, bi~ Best of both worlds!" Ronnie laughed. "Sort of a don't ask, don't tell deal~"

"Ahh~"

"So where's the trucks at?"

"Come!"

Ronnie followed Cyrus to the back of the maintenance garage, where several Silverados sat in the grass. Most were 3500HD's, and a couple were 2500HD's, some crew cabs, two extended cabs, and a single cab. The red trucks were the older GMT880 platform, and the white trucks were the GMT901's. Ronnie's eyes immediately latched onto a red single-rear-wheel one ton. Walking up to it, he saw that it was a crew cab with a long bed. The interior was a dark ebony and gray color, with fabric seating that still looked good. The bed had a slightly grayed Rhino liner sprayed on the bed. The red still looked good, with its clear coat intact. Where the company stickers once resided at, the red took on a slightly dark tint. There were a few small dings here and there.

"This one is an oh-six." Cyrus pointed. "Duramax turbodiesel and a rebuilt Allison tranny. One-ninety-K on the odometer. No accidents. Just a small amount of dings and dents here and there. Almost new Firestone Transforce AT's~"

"Well it's a truck, I'd expect that." Chuckled the dog. "She looks great! Can we take it for a test drive?"

"Sure! Lemme get the keys!"

Kicking up dust behind him on the chalky gravel road, Ronnie took the Silverado on a test drive with Cyrus. The gravel road wound its way through the countryside, among corn and soy fields, and patches of woodland.

"Rob tells me you're from Chicago!" Cyrus exclaimed, as he was jolted by a bump in the road.

"Yeah!" Ronnie replied. He reached back to point at his vest's patches. "Windy city, baby!"

"Then you come to this dump!" the wolf grinned with a laugh.

"I didn't think I'd ever be coming to Ohio~" Ronnie chuckled as he slowed up to go around a tight bend. "But when you have nothing to lose, you take the leap of fate."

"Rob said he and Varg found ya in Chicago, and they were really impressed by your music~"

"It was a pure chance encounter! Me and my buds were playing some tunes at Lincoln Park, and they showed up and watched. And just us being us, we were chummy with anyone who wanted to stick around to listen, and that's how it came to be. It really paid off in the end. Though I must remark... Newark is not Chicago."

"Now you're in hickville!" Cyrus laughed.

"Newark is... it's not bad... but it's not great... It's a really sleepy town." Ronnie remarked. "It's full of..."

"Fucking retarded ass methheads?" Cyrus cut in.

"Well there's that... But I was going to say... just ignorant bingbats."

"Wingdings!"

"Ha~" Ronnie laughed. "But the irony is that I've met more gay guys here than I ever did back home."

"Ironic!" Cyrus laughed.

"I never really tried, to be honest... I guess... back home... a lot of gay guys in Boystown are... they're a bunch of assholes. What few times I've tried. I was told my hair didn't look good, I was too intimidating, not tall enough, my dick wasn't big enough... hell I got a fucking piercing for it for Christ sake!"

"Cool! You should see mine!" grinned the wolf, which made Ronnie blush up. "Ohh my..." was his response.

Cyrus laughed and patted Ronnie's back. "If it makes you feel any better, I don't really interact much with the gay community. People are pricks, and a lot of guys have unrealistic expectations on beauty, sex, blah, blah."

"You too, huh?"

"Well yeah! Years ago, when I lived in Dayton, I hooked up with this dude- best fuck ever... and when we were done, he grabbed my clothes, threw them at me, and told me to get the fuck out, and he never wanted to talk to me again!"

"Wow."

"That's why I love my boyfriend to death! Lil' Benny! He'll be coming over later today."

"Oh I see~"

"You should come fuck him!" laughed Cyrus. Ronnie blushed even more.

"I'm still getting comfy with the whole being with a guy thing. I had a boyfriend in high school, but after joining the Angels, and being in the band, it was girls, girls, girls, until I met what I thought would be my future wife. How fate worked out on that."

"Before I forget, you should meet my friend Marty! He's a retired Hells Angel!" Cyrus suggested.

"Oh really?" Ronnie remarked. "Heh, heh, there's no such thing as a retired red and white. You're a red and white till you die, or you fuck up and get kicked out~"

"Marty was from the Cleveland chapter for over a decade. He was married to a woman and had four kids with her, but she died several years ago in a car accident, and Marty then came out. Now he's got a really nice boyfriend who works with taxes. He's all happy as can be now~"

"Well maybe we can work that out sometime!"

"Yeah!"

After a stroll through the countryside, Ronnie and Cyrus returned back to his landscaping headquarters. Kicking up dust in his return, Ronnie turned and parked by the old farmhouse.

"What do you think?" Cyrus asked as they got out.

"I think I wanna buy this truck!"

"Well come on inside and we'll- hey look, there's my ex, Talon!"

Ronnie glanced over to see a black Ram 2500 roll into the gravel parking lot. It turned and parked beside Cy's personal pickup, and out came a red Doberman. A lean but built Doberman in his late thirties, Talon wore gym shorts and a snug red tanktop with a fitted baseball cap atop his head. He had sleeves and a chest piece, just like Cyrus and Ronnie himself. Dark shades concealed his eyes, and he had a neatly trimmed goatee of auburn colored hair.

Cyrus gave a big sarcastic wave and a grin. "Hey stranger!"

"'Sup!" Talon grinned. Ronnie watched as Cyrus walked over and gave his ex a hug and a kiss.

"What brings ya here?"

"I gotta look at buying one of your trucks as a quick replacement, because I just got one of mine totaled..."

"Oh boy... tell me it wasn't from my retarded brother and uncle!" Cyrus laughed.

"Not this time!" Talon laughed. "Twenty-eighty-five got smacked by a damn garbage truck and it fucked the frame completely up."

"What about your guy?"

"He's fine. I'd rather the truck than him! It's cheaper~"

"Morbid~" laughed Ronnie.

"Oh! Talon~ Meet my pal here! This is Ronnie Samson, one of Rob and Varg's workers!"

"Oh hey!" Talon smiled. He took his sunglasses off, revealing dark green eyes. "Talon Bradley. Of Bradley Landscaping and Supply company!"

"Ronnie~ Junior sound engineer." Chuckled the dog.

"Dig the vest and leather pants dude!" Talon complimented. "You don't get too many authentic dudes like you in these necks of the woods. You met our pal Marty yet?"

"No I haven't, but I heard about him, and I definitely want to!"

"Hey Talon, you should join us for lunch later!"

"Eh, sorry, Cy, me and the lovely Misses Emily Bradley have a pool date to go swimming!" Talon smiled. "It's Sunday Funday with the daughter!"

"You need to have some Sunday Funday with me and Ben again!"

"Fuck yeah dude~" chuckled the Dober. "Def gonna make time for that hot ass~"

"Which one?" Cyrus laughed.

Ronnie stood listening to Talon and Cyrus joke. Ronnie looked at Talon with a look of awe on his face. He was a very handsome Doberman. He had great ink on his body, and his gym shorts left almost nothing to the imagination, with the nice bulge in the front. Ronnie went with them around back to the parked trucks again, and Talon took a glance at one of the newer three-quarter tons for sale. It appeared that he was interested in buying it, once he got his insurance situation covered.

Before going back to his truck, Talon handed Ronnie his business card. "I think you're an awesome looking dude. Maybe sometime we could hang out and ride our bikes or something?"

"Sure~" Ronnie smiled. "I think you're quite studly too~"

Talon looked at Cyrus with a grin. "I still got it~ Well thank you Ronnie! Hope to hear from ya!"

"I'll hold that truck for ya, stud muffin!"

"Later Cy!" Talon waved as he got back into his truck. Ronnie looked awestruck as he watched Talon take off in his truck to head back onto the road.

"You know a lot of hot guys, Cyrus~"

He grinned and pointed to his hair. "It's the hair, Ronnie!"

"I think it's your ripped tattooed body too."

"And my big ole dick!"

Ronnie blushed again.

Following Cyrus and his truck, Ronnie took his "new" truck back to Cy's place, a few miles away. With a folder full of paperwork that needed notarizing, Ronnie kept pace with the similarly aged Sierra that Cyrus drove. He would afterall get to meet his friend, Marty Millis, the retired Hells Angel who lived in Hanover. He would get to meet to meet Marty and his boyfriend Jason Greene, who could notarize documents.

Following Route 2 into a patch of woodland, Ronnie saw Cyrus slow up and put his turn signal on. He turned into a long gravel driveway that went through a narrow stretch of woods into a clearing, where his home sat at. Ronnie saw a nicely restored farmhouse, sheathed in cedar siding and a slate roof. He turned and parked his truck beside a huge red dually Silverado, which belonged to Cy's boyfriend, Ben Reynolds.

"Well here's my humble abode!" Cyrus pointed out.

"Wow. This is really quiet out here." Ronnie remarked as he carried his folder of paperwork in.

Emerging from the house was a young husky, who had long brown hair tied into a ponytail. Ben Reynolds was a twenty year old husky, who had a menacing dark scar on his face. Ronnie immediately thought of Rob when he saw Ben. His face looked somewhat serious as he put his arms around Cyrus and gave him a kiss.

"Hey studly Benny! Meet Rob and Varg's pal, Ronnie!" Cyrus announced.

"Oh hey!" Ben said, a smile emerging on his face. It was slightly stiffened, revealing the facial paralysis on the husky's face.

"How are you doing?" Ronnie smiled.

"Not bad~ Just busy." The husky chuckled. "In the mood for a lil' fun if you know what I mean?"

"Oh boy~" chuckled Ronnie with a sly grin. His eyes went huge and he immediately blushed when he felt Cyrus fondle his nub. It practically made him jump as the big wolf grinned.

"Wanna join us?" Cyrus grinned.

Ronnie just smiled and took Ben's paw as he was led inside.

Ronnie was impressed by Cyrus' impressive home. The interior had an Americana theme, with walls sheathed by old grayed barn wood. He glanced around at the comfy looking living room, open kitchen and dining room, with giant picture windows that glanced out at his pond and woodland. Going upstairs, Ronnie stepped into Cy's room and admired its walls that were made of planks of pine boards that were stained a rich yellow. He heard Cyrus mention about one bedroom for his nephew, and an extra room for guests.

Ben crossed his arms and took his shirt off, and then his shorts. He was a average build husky who had a tattoo sleeve on his right arm, and a chest piece that was in the process of being completed. Grabbing his boxers and yanking down, his big floppy member came plopping out. Ronnie was impressed at his thick softie, and he was uncut too. Cyrus took his tanktop off, revealing an impressive chest tattoo with nipple rings. He took his jeans off and had a snug pair of red and white underwear that left nothing to the imagination with the bulge. Ronnie watched them yank his undies off, revealing a thick tan member that was uncut just like his boyfriend, but sporting a curved barbell Prince Albert piercing.

"Oh wow, nice~" Ronnie complimented them.

"Your turn!"

Ronnie took his vest off and neatly folded it on the dresser. He took his shirt off and sat it on top of the vest. As he worked to get his leather pants off, Cyrus and Ben both caressed his chest and stomach, which made him blush as he got his pants off. He took his boxers off, and revealed his softie and its piercing, which Cyrus chuckled and rubbed.

"I know it's not fucking huge like you guys~" Ronnie chuckled embarrassingly.

"Not the size, Ronnie! It's how you use it!" Cyrus exclaimed. He put his arms around Ronnie and caressed his stomach and chest. Ben dropped to his knees, and the husky put Ronnie's cock into his muzzle and started to suck on it. Ronnie closed his eyes and almost instantly went hard, especially as Cyrus rubbed his chest and nipples. It was the first time in years that he played with another man.

An hour later, Ronnie laid in bed, being caressed and snuggled by Cyrus and Ben. He got sucked off, and got to watch Cyrus fuck Ben. Ben in return shot his load all over Ronnie's tattooed chest. Now in the afterglow of a good fuck, they all rested in the warm comfy bed.

"Wow." Chuckled the Doberman. "In all the years I was famous, I never had a threesome. I should have fucking moved to Ohio years ago~"

"Ha~" Cyrus laughed. "Well now you popped your gay threesome cherry!"

"I guess so!" Ronnie laughed. "I'm not used to being with a guy."

"It takes time to get comfy." Ben remarked.

"Some guys were such fucking assholes when I tried to make a move." Ronnie remarked. "It would always be over something fucking stupid. My hair was too long, or too curly in places. Someone didn't like that I didn't have a huge fucking cock, or they didn't like how I sounded. People just being fucking pricks for the sake of being a prick."

Cyrus closed his eyes and just shook his head. "Some guys are just fags. That's what I always say. I laugh when I hear about all this talk about acceptance and tolerance in the gay community. HA! Yeah right. There's a lot of guys I have met that struck me that they don't really accept the fact that they're gay- so they take it out on other gays."

"Some people just live off other's misery." Ben added.

"You can't tear people down to build yourself up~" Cyrus remarked with a shrug. "I mean, I've been ignored and told to fuck off too! I remember someone telling me quite bluntly that they 'hated red heads', and another dude saying I ruined my body with my tattoos!"

"Fuck 'em~" Ronnie remarked.

"Yeah!"

"Literally!" Ben added with a laughed. "Whenever you feel more comfortable, you're more than welcome to pound my butt~"

"You're a great bottom~"

"Thanks!" Ben laughed. "You know, I get told that a lot~"

Cyrus just grinned and chuckled. "Oh lil' Benny, my cute cumdump!"

Ben rolled over to look at the clock on the nightstand. "We should get cleaned up and get lunch started before Marty and Jason show up~"

"Oh shit, yeah! Let's get in the shower!" Cyrus motioned as he got up. Ronnie got up, stretched and followed them to the bathroom to get a hot shower.

Ronnie helped Cyrus and Ben in the kitchen, preparing lunch. As Cyrus cooked some hotdogs on the grill on his back porch, and Ben set the table outside, Ronnie made a simple salad in the kitchen. He finely chopped up some cucumbers, tomatoes, and onions and tossed them together with a little olive oil and red wine vinegar.

"I feel like I'm still working at the Corral!" laughed Ronnie as he sat the bowl down on the table outside. He sealed it with a piece of plastic wrap.

"I got it!" Cyrus called as he heard the sound of tires crunching on the gravel. "Hey can you watch the grill, Ron?"

"Sure!"

Cyrus went inside to go meet his friends. Soon he returned with Marty and Jason. Ronnie turned around from the grill to see them for the first time. Jason Greene was a forty-two year old red Doberman, who sported a tropical flower themed tattoo sleeve on his right arm. He wore a light blue and white striped tanktop with tan shorts. He had light green eyes and shortly trimmed brown hair between his cropped ears. Beside him was burly Marty Millis. Ronnie took one look at Marty and just paused to look in awe.

Fifty-two year old Marty looked exactly what Ronnie thought he'd look like. He had a rugged, tough face, a stubby Mohawk of slightly graying auburn hair, dark green eyes, and tattoo sleeves of black and gray artwork. He sported the same kind of chinstrap and goatee like Ronnie, giving them a superficial appearance. He wore a pair of gym shorts and a dark blue t-shirt.

"Guys! I want you meet a new friend of ours! This is Ronnie Samson, Varg's sound engineer!"

"Well hello!" greeted Jason warmly. "So nice to meet you, and welcome to Ohio! I'm Jason~"

"Ronnie!"

"Hey!" smiled Marty. He held out a paw that Ronnie accepted with a firm handshake. "I didn't think I'd run into another Hells Angel in these woods!"

"Well surprise." Laughed Ronnie with a smile. "It's so nice to meet another Angel!"

"Angels forever, forever Angels!" Marty exclaimed as he and Ronnie shared a hug.

"Who wants to eat my meat!" Cyrus yelled as he held up a cooked hotdog with his skewer.

Everyone sat around the table, eating hotdogs and salad and having a good time over some drinks. Ronnie had a good time getting to know Marty, and hearing some of his stories during his biker days. He was surprised to find out that Marty knew his father David, and Marty had talked about his Dad being a "fierce fighter", referring to an infamous Cleveland brawl between the Hells Angels and a rival biker gang at a rally in 2003. Ronnie's father had only talked about it as "real wild".

"That was one hell of a brawl. Like three thousand guys all fighting and beating the shit out of each other!" Marty laughed. "I got several ribs broken when some motherfucker hit me with a baseball bat... but oh man did I get him in the end...

"You farted on him!" Cyrus grinned big.

"NO! I did not!" Marty exclaimed. "I took that fucking bat and smashed it over his fucking head!"

"And then you farted on him!"

"Oh my god, NO!" Marty exclaimed. He looked right at Ronnie. "This motherfucker will turn anything and everything into a fucking fart joke!"

Cyrus grinned big and nodded excitedly. "It's true! I can't help it! Farts are funny!"

"No they're not! They're nasty! Disgusting! Gross!"

"Eww! Icky!" Cyrus laughed, mocking Marty's voice in an innocent child's tone.

Ronnie couldn't help but laugh. "You guys are hysterical~"

"You are such a fuddy duddy!" Cyrus teased.

"No I'm not! Farts are disgusting!"

"They're amazing!"

"Oh my god! This motherfucker is still talking about the fucking fart!"

"Better believe it!"

"CYRUS! STOP TALKING ABOUT FARTS!"

"Can I think about them?"

"NO!"

"What if I talk about the fart? But in French!"

Marty leaned back into his seat and stared at Cyrus in disbelief. He looked at his boyfriend and then at Ben. "Un-fucking believable!"

Ronnie covered his face as he laughed hard. "Okay, farts are kind of funny..."

"See!" Cyrus grinned. "Ronnie gets it!"

"When we were touring and our dumbass promoter would do something stupid, or expect us to pull off some kind of miracle, my friend Killian would either fart on him, or fart into the phone when something stupid was asked.

"YEAH! WHOO!" Cyrus cheered.

Marty just rolled his eyes and took a sip of his Coke. He just looked at Cyrus and smiled as he shook his head. "You're lucky you're cute, Cy~"

"Yes!" the wolf exclaimed.

"Wow. You guys are fucking great." Ronnie laughed.

"We're like a big, loud, dysfunctional family~" Jason smiled.

Cyrus tipped his head back and let out a gurgled, wet burp. "Yeah!" Marty just shook his head jokingly at Cyrus.

"Sooooo Marty, what do you do for a living?" Ronnie asked curiously. He stifled a laugh from Cy's burp.

"Well I'm a supervisor to a big used car dealership in Hanover." Marty said. "Been working there for thirty-six years~"

"Oh neat~ What about you, Jason?"

Jason chuckled. "I'm the nerdy bureaucrat. I work for the tax department for the city of Newark. Formerly was a tax worker at Coshocton, but I was fired there for 'poor job performance', despite having an exemplary record for fifteen years... how crazy that I was fired after I came out... hmm..."

"Yeah... hmm..." Ronnie chuckled.

"I got my own work problems currently..." Marty grumbled. "So my longtime boss, Ed, retired recently, and we got some young shit from the Zanesville store running things now... Well he found out about Jason... and he's been a real fuckhead with me about everything and its frankly starting to piss me off..."

"Oh boy..." Ben grimaced.

"Someone knocked my fucking bike over, took my power tools, and knocked shit over in my office, and I know it's Tucker."

"Just the name Tucker makes him sound like a twerp!" Ronnie laughed.

"He is a twerp!" Marty exclaimed. "Motherfucker's only thirty-two... hell, I've been alive working long than he's been alive!"

"Marty's stroller had stone wheels!" Cyrus grinned.

"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Marty exclaimed. "But this shit is getting old, and I'm about ready to punch him in his fucking cocksucker. But I don't want to, because I don't want to lose my job..."

"You should fart on him!" Cyrus suggested with a grin.

"NOOOOOOOOOO!" Marty retorted. "I don't think so Cy!"

"Hear me out! When I worked at ODOT, and I had a complete asshole of a supervisor? One day he made me mad enough, I just put my ass on him and BURRRRTTTTTT! Ripped a big ole' fart on him! Never was an asshole to me again!"

"I guess that really brings the being an asshole to an asshole..." Jason smirked. He shook his head with a laugh.

"See!" Cyrus pointed. "Your boyfriend's right!"

"Oh my god... sill talking about the fucking fart..."

"I can talk about it in French!"

"NO!"

Ronnie couldn't help but laugh at the group dynamics of his new friends. For the rest of the afternoon, he hung out with his new friends, sharing many more laughs and stories. It took the loneliness away that he sometimes felt on his time off. After lunch, Jason took the documents and notarized them with Ronnie and Cyrus signing off. After a phone call to his insurance office, Ronnie officially owned the red Silverado.

It was nearing four o'clock, and Ronnie needed to head back home. He stepped down off the porch and thanked his new friends for the good times. Cyrus said that he needed to come back more often. Ronnie agreed. Before leaving, he got warm hugs from all his new pals, including getting his nub teasingly fondled by Marty, who smiled at him, making Ronnie blush up again. With a smile and wave, he said goodbye, climbed into his truck that carried his motorcycle strapped into the bed, and departed back home to Newark.

The middle of the week, on a quiet Wednesday. Working from home, Ronnie had the living room to himself while Colt and his neighborhood friends played basketball next door. Sitting at his fancy desktop, he finished up mixing a song for a client, adjusting the virtual sliders of the editing program, which was displayed on the second monitor. Leaning back in his office chair, Ronnie smacked the space bar with his index finger and listened at the playback. He placed his paws behind his head and enjoyed the sound of a good metal song. He felt content about the mixing.

A message on his laptop got his attention with the Telegram "bing!" Leaning forward, Ronnie looked at his Thinkpad to answer a message from the sound director. His fingers clicked away at the keys as he sent his answer back. As the song finished, Ronnie exported the project and grabbed the file to send back to work via the cloud to review. He got a thanks from his supervisor.

Checking the time, Ronnie sent a message that he was going to lunch, which was acknowledged. Locking his desktop and closing the lid to his Thinkpad, Ronnie got up and stretched. He really appreciated Varg as his boss; he was allowed to bring work home and edit it three days a week, so his son could stay home and play with his friends and not be at work with him.

Going into the kitchen, Ronnie took a moment to make some lunch for himself, Colt, and his friends. He made a bunch of sandwiches and sat them on a tray with some baby carrots.

"Colty!" Ronnie yelled from the back door. "I got lunch for everyone!"

Ronnie laughed and watched as Colt and his friends came running in to grab their sandwiches, carrots, and a bottle of juice. All of them soon returned to the shade under the tree to eat lunch and chat. Ronnie took his plate and a pop to his patio table outside, which sat under a tarp overhang. He started to each lunch and keep an eye on the kids.

"Ronnie! Hey!" came his neighbor Mindy.

"Oh hey!" Ronnie waved and smiled. "Same idea, huh?"

Mindy stepped outside carrying her lunch and drink too.

"Hey why don't you come over and eat with me?" Ronnie suggested. Mindy walked over and opened the gate while juggling her lunch in her grip. She took a seat at Ronnie's table in the shade. They took a moment to watch Colt and Colby eat lunch all quietly together in the cool shade of the big tree.

"Inseparable best friends~" chuckled Mindy. "Makes me happy to see Colby being all open and friendly again. For a while he kind of worried me."

"Oh yeah?" Ronnie asked as he nibbled on a carrot.

"Yeah, I got divorced two years ago, and it was a real mess." Mindy grimaced. "Colby got traumatized a bit from it, and trust me, it was a real hot mess."

"I was lucky I was spared from that..." Ronnie pursed his lips.

"My ex... lord... he was once a really awesome guy. When I first met him, I just knew, he was the one! We hit it off, got married, and had Colby. A few years later, we had a little girl named Kayla, but she sadly died of childhood leukemia. That's when Bruce began really changing. It was a bad year. Kayla passed away in January of 2020, and then Bruce got laid off when the pandemic was starting. Struggled to get another job, and we were in financial dire straits. Started drinking way too much, and then just snapped or something. Got real violent. I called it quits. We got divorced in 2021. He didn't want to accept it. Bruce... something just went haywire in him. I think he had a mental breakdown and never recovered."

"Wow."

"I have a restraining order on him now, after he threatened me with a gun over Colby- claiming I took him away. No! Your crazy ass did that~" laughed Mindy. Ronnie had a chuckle too.

"People are scary." Ronnie sarcastically quipped as he took a sip of his Pepsi.

"Yeah, I agree." Mindy sighed. "And my teaching job gets harder and harder because parents think they know everything. There's this new thing... this crazy shit calling us teachers 'groomers' and other stupid shit, like we're turning kids into genderless Marxists or something..."

Ronnie just rolled his eyes. "Dumbasses. Everywhere."

"I remember as a kid being told to not believe everything you saw on the internet!" laughed Mindy. "My how times have changed."

"I remember that too!" Ronnie pointed with a laugh. "I remember my first computer was this big beige box that was slow as shit, with a screechy, slow ass dial-up connection."

"My god, I remember those days~" the wolfess laughed with him. "I'm getting too old!"

"Same here." Ronnie chuckled. "I'm thirty-one now~ Yesterday it felt like I just turned nineteen or something~"

"Ha, I got you beat at thirty-six." Mindy laughed. "I didn't think I'd be the divorced, broke-ass thirty-six year old living with my parents again, but hey! Sign of the times!"

"Shit, I'd move back in with my Dad if he was still alive." Ronnie snickered. "I miss him."

"Time waits for no man sadly." Mindy shook her head. "I think I'm gonna take a break from dating for a while and just focus on raising Colby and getting my shit back together."

"That's all you can do. After Misty died, I literally had to just work and work, to keep me and Colt alive." Ronnie recalled. "Those were some dark times. I can finally breathe a sigh of relief now."

"I can imagine so."

"Now that I'm here, I feel like I can reset everything and start over." Ronnie explained. "I'm not dead tired all the time. I have free time again, and I can be creative and think!"

"You ever thinking about dating again?"

"Well I may be going on a date this weekend~ Fella named Talon. Heh, heh, yeah, I'm bi."

"Oh neat~"

"Gonna head to the record store and have lunch. That's the plan! But you know how plans always go."

"To hell and back!" Mindy exclaimed with a shared laugh with Ronnie.

"Yeah! True!"

"Mindy!" called her mother. "Telephone for you!"

"Oh, I better go get that!" Mindy exclaimed as she got up. "Ronnie, so nice to have lunch with you! We should do it again!" she exclaimed as he quickly left.

"Yeah! Let's pick a time again~" Ronnie waved as he watched her run back inside. Ronnie checked the time on his phone and he carried his plate back inside to resume work again.

Feeling a bit nervous, Ronnie looked at himself in the mirror as he blow dried his long hair. He brushed it as he dried, watching the locks assume their natural curls here and there. Giving it a final fluff and a paw whisked through to push some out of his face, he grabbed his trimmer and gave his chinstrap and goatee a touchup. It was date day with Talon Bradley, Cy's ex-boyfriend. They had been messaging each other back and forth through the week, getting to know each other, and Ronnie liked chatting with Talon. He especially liked Talon's interests in bikes and vehicles.

Tossing on a charcoal gray and black striped tanktop with black gym shorts, Ronnie stepped out of the bathroom to see Colt getting ready to go swimming with his best friend at the city pool. Little Colt wore his red swim trunks and a red tanktop to go with it.

"All ready to go, Dad!"

"I can see that lil' man? You got your sunscreen, right?"

"Yeah!"

"Remember to put that on your nose! I remember I sunburned the heck outta my nose once at a festival. That was not fun!"

"No!" laughed Colt. He reached into his bag and pulled it out to show his Dad.

"There ya go!"

"Well you have fun with your friend!" Colt said excitedly.

"Oh we will! Thank you!" Ronnie exclaimed.

Sending Colt off with his friend, Ronnie waved from the front yard as Colt and Colby went with Mindy to the pool. About fifteen minutes later, Talon arrived, in his pickup truck. Ronnie saw the big black Ram come rumbling on in and parking in the gravel on the side of his house. Ronnie stepped outside to greet the studly Doberman as he emerged from his truck.

Talon was dressed casually like Ronnie; he wore blue gym shorts, and a gray and white tanktop with a backwards turned black hat and sunglasses on his face. A grin emerged on his face as he stuffed his keys into his pocket and saw Ronnie open the gate for him.

"Greetings!" Ronnie waved.

"Heya!" Talon waved back. "Sorry I'm a bit late. Had to drop Emily off at Dad's and he needed my help real quick."

"Not a problem, not a problem~ Thought you were going to bring your bike?"

"Go figure my fucking luck, I got a flat tire from riding with my brother yesterday." The Doberman laughed. "Fuck me, right?"

"Just how luck goes~"

"I wanna see your Fatboy!" Talon exclaimed.

"Sure!"

Ronnie took him to his garage, where the Fatboy sat beside his blue Civic. "This is my absolute precious. Next to Colt, this is like a second child of mine, my Dad's Fatboy."

Pulling it out into the sunshine, Ronnie showed off his late father's Fatboy, mentioning that it was a 1990 model year. It was painted black with some dark gold trim, and lots of chrome parts. Talon got to sit on it and looked very impressed at how well cared for it was.

"Wow." Talon muttered. "This is a beautiful bike!"

"Thank you! This bike was my Dad's absolute favorite, and it's what I got left to remember him with." Ronnie recalled as he traced its dark gold lines. "I used to have a chopper, heh, heh, but she got fucking hit by a careless idiot at the store... and when they saw it was a Hells Angels' bike? Took off like a damn coward."

"People are shit these days~" Talon chuckled as he shook his head.

"Yeah, I realized that..." Ronnie sarcastically said as he gently pushed the bike back into the garage. "Let's get out of the heat!"

Ronnie welcomed Talon inside his house and gave him a tour of his cozy abode. Talon showed Ronnie a bottle of red wine he bought for lunch, and it was quickly stowed into the fridge to stay cold. They took a moment to relax in the living room.

"So Cyrus tells me you're a sound engineer?"

"Yeah! I finally landed my dream job." Ronnie said as he showed off his workstation at the desk. "Just by pure chance, I lucked out, and just in time when things went horribly wrong back home."

"Sometimes fate works out like that. Whacha think of Newark? Compared to Chicago?"

"Well it's like comparing a turd to a giant turd!" Ronnie laughed.

"Yeah, you can't polish a turd!" Talon grinned.

"Shit smears." Laughed Ronnie with him.

"Newark is... it's seen better days." Talon explained. "Like fifteen years ago, it was okay. But the past decade, it's just gone downhill. Decay and meth, lot's of meth."

"So I've noticed..." Ronnie chuckled with a grimace. "I notice when I drive out around route thirteen, you see all these zombie like motherfuckers just drifting about all glassy eyed!"

"Yeah!" Talon grinned. "Newark's got plenty of Michael Meths, Cocaine Carries, and Heroin Harolds!"

"Ha~" Ronnie snickered. "But one thing I find the most about Newark is... there really isn't anything for me to do around here?"

"Nope." Talon shook his head.

"Like if I want to do anything, I have to really drive out for it. It's not like Chicago, where everything's in the metropolis. If I want a nice clothing store, it's Columbus, if I want to go to a nice mall, Columbus, so on and so on."

"Yeah, that's just how it is around here. You should try Hanover! If I wanna go to Walmart, it's a twenty minute trek."

"Wow."

"Yeah, rural country bumpkin life!"

"You're a big ole country boy~"

"I like the peace and quiet out there." Talon admitted. "I'm not a big city guy~ Which is ironic to some because I'm bisexual."

"Labels are for cans~" chuckled Ronnie.

"Everyone has to compartmentalize everything into a group and subgroup!" Talon joked. "Mister rough n' tough biker!"

"Hey, hey, I only start trouble if someone wants trouble. That's my motto~" Ronnie chuckled.

"So you're a Hells Angel eh?"

"Yeppers! I follow my Dad, and my Grandpa in being an Angel. My Grandpa, Lester Samson, was one of the founders of the New York chapter of the Hells Angels, and then my Dad, David Samson, was a member in New York City, before going to the Chicago chapter, where he was there for twenty-five years when he died of Covid."

"That's impressive~"

"Grandpa felt lost after the Korean War he told me. He saw some really messed up shit when he was a helicopter pilot flying wounded soldiers out. When he got back from the war, he felt like he just didn't fit in anywhere, and kind of got swept into the biker culture. My Dad was the same way- he said he didn't feel like he really fit in anywhere until he became an Angel. Then he 'found his people'. Then you have me, just following their league, wanting to make them all proud." Explained Ronnie with a laugh at the end.

"What about the rest of your family?" Talon asked.

"Well, I don't speak to any of them. Sadly." Ronnie shook his head.

"Really?"

"Grandpa had a brother and sister, and they, and their parents were kind of scared of him being this biker and whatnot. Grandpa had two sons, Larry, and my Dad, David. Uncle Larry was the 'normal' one and had a big family... never hear anything from them. They must have thought that me and Dad would lead their kids to some dark biker path or something!"

"Wow. That's sad, Ronnie."

"What's sadder is that my Mom left when I was twelve." Ronnie admitted. "I think she got tired of being the old lady or whatever, and just one day left. That was nineteen years ago. Last I heard she was living in New Jersey or something, since that's where she came from. New JOISEY!"

"Wow." Talon shook his head. "I got a close knit family. Having anything like that seems so crazy, to just not acknowledge family, or leaving. Insane to us! Hell, my drug addled, insane, older sister gets all this love and support... which she just fucks up... Dad's at the end of his ropes with Allison."

"Drugs killed my girlfriend..." Ronnie frowned.

"Somehow Allison is still alive... I'm not sure how!" Talon laughed morbidly. "Heroin, meth, random pills... I've lost count at how many overdoses, and all many times Dad has cleaned her up before she fucks everything back up again... but that's what family is for."

"Wish my family could be like that." Ronnie sighed a bit. "After Dad passed away, it was just me and Colt."

"Single Dad too eh?"

"Yeah."

"I have a daughter. She's eight now. Emily is her name. She's my precious lil' thing! Too bad her Mom is fucking loco..."

"Oh boy..."

"Yeah..."

"That girl... I thought she was the one... but man... she was a fucking psycho! Our relationship fell apart, and she tried to kill herself and Emily in a high speed chase... all this crazy stuff. So I got sole custody, and as far as I know, she's still in jail getting mental help."

Ronnie just shook his head as he picked up his acoustic guitar.

"Cyrus also tells me you used to be in a band!"

"Yeah!" Ronnie exclaimed. "Many moons ago, me and my other Angels made a band called Hard Times. Ha, before the hard times... We were at the cusp of fame. Almost there, until the plane crash. I was the lead singer, and when needed, I could play an acoustic guitar.

"Neat!"

"Want me to play a song?"

"Sure!"

Ronnie momentarily had a look of thought on his face. "Colt likes it when I sing this song..."

Grabbing a pick off the desk, Ronnie adjusted his grip on his guitar and began strumming out the tune to "Sunshine", a Jonathan Edwards song.

"Sunshine go away today

I don't feel much like dancing

Some man's gone, he's tried to run my life

Don't know what he's asking

He tells me I'd better get in line

Can't hear what he's saying

When I grow up, I'm going to make it mine

But these aren't dues I been paying

How much does it cost, I'll buy it

The time is all we've lost, I'll try it

But he can't even run his own life

I'll be damned if he'll run mine, Sunshine"

Talon looked impressed at Ronnie's playing and singing ability, as he leaned back in his chair and played for Talon.

"Wowwwwww!" Talon clapped as Ronnie finished up. He grinned for Talon as he put his guitar down.

"Yeah, a sample of what I can do~" laughed the Dober.

"Holy fuck man. That's great." Talon complimented.

"Thanks~" smiled Ronnie. "I was told since around middle school that I had talents to be a singer, and hey, look, that's what I got to be for a time!"

"You still think about ever trying it again?"

"Maybe. Just depends." Ronnie shrugged.

"I think you should~ You have an amazing voice."

Ronnie blushed a bit. "I appreciate it!"

"What do you want to do, Ron?"

For the rest of the morning and into the early afternoon, Ronnie had a blast hanging out with Talon on their date. Talon took him around the area, showing him the "sights" of Newark, the lack of things to do in town, and then off to Columbus, where they ventured around. Ronnie was excited to get out and see more of his new state. They stopped to get some ice cream and then walk around a park by the Scioto river, and then a music store, where Ronnie got himself a new record player some vinyl for his collection.

Talon was a blast to hang out with; Ronnie found the studly Dober to be a very mellow, friendly thirty-seven year old. He talked about running his own business, which branched off from his family's farm supply store in Hanover. Talon ran as big of a landscaping company as his ex Cyrus, something he joked that "ruined their relationship". While out and about, they talked about their lives, over cars, and bikes. Talon was curious about Ronnie's biker lifestyle, joking that it wasn't "what he saw on TV", much to Ronnie's amusement.

"We ain't sons of anarchy!" Ronnie laughed as he watched them drive through a construction zone on I-70. "Boy, there's a lotta construction around Ohio. What gives? Everywhere I go I see orange barrels and cones!"

"Don't you know that's our state flower?" Talon teased with a big grin and a laugh. "Every spring, the orange barrels blossom."

"I can see that!"

"So what did you think of Columbus, there, Ronnie?"

"It ain't Chicago, that's for sure~" Ronnie chuckled.

"It's a cowtown." Laughed the Doberman. "I remember as a kid, Columbus really was a cowtown! Columbus didn't start modernizing until the late nineties, after Mayor Reinhart."

"I see."

"You'd go to Cleveland, Toledo, Akron-Canton, Cincinnati, hell, Youngstown, and they're bigger than Columbus back in the eighties."

"So basically Springfield back home."

"Yeah!"

"I like the park by the river. Columbus is pretty cool. I'll have to explore some more with my son, especially that record store!"

"Certainly better than Newark, right?"

"Newark is kind of a sleepy, boring town."

"It's Methville. That's what Newark has become." Talon shook his head. "I remember back when I was a kid, Newark doing pretty good. But all the industrial jobs dried up, and then the fucking idiots Newark kept electing just made it worse. Now it's just some backwater Appalachian town."

"Yeah, that's what I noticed. I mean, after dealing with all the shit and insanity in Chicago, I'll take boring quiet... for my son's sake."

"Yeah, city life is just... it's not for me. It's nice to visit once in a while, but I belong out in the country. Heh, I can step outside and see the sunrise and take a piss off my back porch."

"Now that's what I'm talking about!"

"Hell yeah! Whip my big ole dick out!" Talon laughed.

"You can whip your big ole dick out in front of me!" Ronnie teased.

"Don't you tempt me!" Talon grinned.

"So what's it like running your own business, Talon?"

"Ever heard the term, adult daycare, Ron?"

"Yeah?"

"That's what running your own business is like." Laughed the Doberman as he pulled his hat off and pointed at his hair. "My hair's getting a bit frosted, NOT just because I'm almost forty... but because I gotta corral my fucking retards around and make sure they don't fuck shit up!"

"Ohh boy..."

"Speaking of which!" Talon exclaimed as he reached over to answer his cellphone, which sat on a mount suction cupped to the dash. Ronnie saw that the incoming call was marked "Retard One".

"Damage control, Darryl!"

"Hey uhh, we got the truck stuck..."

"How?"

"Well... Uncle Ronnie backed it up and didn't see the fucking giant ditch where they're working on the driveway... and the truck needs pulled out."

Ronnie watched Talon close his eyes and shutter a bit. "Why did you let Retard Two drive?"

"I was busy trimming the bushes up! Misses Jonas was harassing me about the rose bushes and we needed to move the truck, so Uncle Ronnie did it!"

"Alright... fine... I'll be on my way... gimme half an hour."

Talon hung up and sighed a bit. "Sorry Ronnie, but we need to make a detour!"

"That's fine!" smiled the Dober. "I'm in no hurry!"

"I wanted to spare you the adult daycare, but here goes!" Talon exclaimed with a sarcastic roll of his eyes.

Getting out of the 55MPH zone leaving greater Columbus, Talon put his foot on the gas to his Ram truck, and they picked up speed to race back to Newark. Ronnie leaned back and just admired the scenery, as he watched an old grain silo pass by off Hamilton Road.

"So you're a single Dad too?"

"Yeah~" nodded Ronnie.

"Isn't being bi cool?" Talon chuckled. "You can fuck literally everything!"

"I guess that's true if you have no standards~" Ronnie chuckled.

"True!" Talon snickered. "I wasn't expecting to have a daughter, but someone higher up decided that I was gonna knock up my ex!"

"It's always the crazies too."

"Yeah, I don't get it." Talon snorted. "But I got the most perfect little daughter ever. I love her to death! She keeps me going~"

"You too, huh?" Ronnie remarked. "If it wasn't for my son, I'd probably be dead now, or in prison."

"Really~"

"For sure." Ronnie nodded. "I probably would have gone down some dark path after everything that had happened... and that would have led me to prison or a coffin next to my Dad."

"Wow."

"I've had a rough five years man." Ronnie explained. "We went from touring and meeting screaming fans and signing autographs, to being sued and driven to financial ruin."

"So what happened? You said there was a plane crash?"

"We were on our way to South Dakota, when our van broke down. We broke down right by an airport, and one of the ground crew saw us trying to work on the van. They introduced us to this pilot named Crazy Lenny, and he offered to fly us on his old airplane to South Dakota."

"I don't think I'd ever step foot on anything owned by someone with 'crazy' in their nickname!"

"Hindsight is twenty-twenty, Talon!" laughed Ronnie. "Poor Eddy... him, our lighting engineer Lisa, and our sound guy Sam, they were the hapless fools to get on that plane with all of our gear. We saw the plane were like 'uhh', but my dumbass thought... well if the government cleared it for flight, then it has to be safe!"

"Ha! That's your first mistake right there." Laughed Talon. "Not that half these government agencies could fuck up a cup of coffee!"

"Yeah apparently so! The plane was over Iowa, and something happened, and it basically blew up. Killed everyone on board. It was a tragic loss."

"I can imagine."

"Record label blamed me, and then the Halen family sued me, blaming me for Eddy's death... it was a complete clusterfuck. All the money I had saved up? Gone. I was literally broke and had to declare bankruptcy. A judge had to cancel it all out! There was no way. Everything bad just happened back to back to back. Band fell apart, my best friend died, then Misty died, and my Dad, and the fire... this is the first time in years where I could breathe a sigh of relief."

Talon shook his head with a sympathetic gaze. "Poor Ronnie."

"It was rough... But I survived for my son's sake. I have some very loving friends that kept me going. Angels forever, forever Angels!"

"Your situation seems so weird to me- forgive me, Ron, it's just... I have such a close knit family. When I had all the girlfriend problems and the legal shit from that? My parents were there for me. My older brother, and my not insane younger sister. Hell, my psychotic sister Allison gets help from us."

"Yeah, my family is just strange. Fuck 'em is what I say."

"My family is part German and Slovakian. That's probably why~ Everyone stays together."

"I'm... I think part... British Canadian? Danish or something? I don't really know. I know my great-great-Grandpa came from Halifax Canada in the 1880's or something."

"The name Bradley was given to my father's family when they came to Ellis Island. We don't even know anymore what the original Slovakian name was. They christened us 'Bradley', and here we are! My great-grandpa was originally from Bratislava, and he came over here to work construction since he was a steel worker, eventually we settled in Hanover, and that's where my grandpa opened the farm store back in 1947."

"Wow that's impressive."

"We're a self-made success story in the area. And I carry on with my landscaping business."

"Which does adult daycare services!" Ronnie grinned.

"Yeah! Kinda! I can't wait till you meet Retard One and Retard Two... Cy's idiot brother and uncle..."

"How bad can that be?"

Going slightly past Newark, Ronnie and Talon arrived at the customer's home, out in the sticks near Flint Ridge. Turning off Brownsville Road, Talon grumbled at the sight of his landscaping truck sitting nose up into a ditch that was dug into the driveway. Pulling in, Ronnie saw the owner of the home arguing with Darryl Filton, Cy's eldest brother. Uncle Ronnie Filton stood by the truck, looking lost.

Hopping out with Talon, Ronnie stood close by Talon's truck, as Talon went to defuse the situation. Ronnie couldn't help but be amused; Darryl looked like Cyrus in his fur patterns, but he was a rather unattractive brute. While Cyrus was muscular and lean, Darryl was a muscle gut guy, with a thick square head and meaty arms. Greasy locks of ginger colored hair poked out from his sweat soaked bandanna wrapped atop his head. Uncle Ronnie was a lanky wolf in his sixties, with a graying mess of hair atop his head. He had a couple missing teeth and wore baggy clothing.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! Okay!" Talon interrupted. "Misses Johnson, let's take a deep breath!

"Those were my mother's roses that she planted! And this big fucking retard butchered it all up!" the customer screamed.

"Call me a fucking retard again bitch!" Darryl hissed.

"HEY!" Talon snapped. "Misses Johnson that is uncalled for. I do not appreciate you talking to my employee like that!"

"Look what he did!?" she pointed.

"I get that! I get that!" Talon said, trying to calm her down. "It was a misunderstanding."

"She told me to trim the rose bushes up and should have been more specific!" Darryl exclaimed.

"I assumed that you knew what bush was- GAHHHHHH" the customer groaned.

"It was a misunderstanding, Misses Johnson. I apologize."

Talon quickly whisked Darryl back towards the truck.

"Why are you apologizing for me, Talon?"

"Because I have to constantly play damage control for you and your idiot ass uncle!" Talon hissed under his breath. "I can't even enjoy a day off without you guys screwing the pooch!"

Talon pointed to the truck. "And why the hell would you let Uncle Ronnie back the truck up into a giant ass ditch in the driveway!"

"I didn't see it?" Ronnie mentioned, which made Talon sigh and roll his eyes.

"God give me the strength..." the Doberman muttered.

"You're just pissed because you had to be interrupted on your date with your boyyyyyfriendddddddddd~" Darryl teased. The quip made Ronnie blush when he heard it.

"He's a friend!" Talon exclaimed. "Hey Ron! I want you to meet these two bumbling idiots- Retard One and Retard Two!"

"Hey wait a minute, how come I'm Retard Two? I'm older than him!" protested Uncle Ronnie as he pointed at Darryl.

"FINE Retard One!" Talon laughed.

"See? That's better..."

"This is all your fault!" Darryl snapped at his uncle. "If you didn't fuck up my landscaping business-"

"Fuck up- you're the one who couldn't lead anything to save your life!" Uncle Ronnie shouted back.

"You're always drunk as fuck bumbling around like a god damn idiot. Pissing on the side of the administrative building in YOUR TIDY WHITIES!"

"You're the one who scalped yards all the time with that beat up mower of yours!"

"YEAH!? MAYBE I SHOULD JUST SCALP YOU UNCLE RONNIE!"

"Whoa! Whoa!" Talon stepped in. "Whoa! Let's not burn out the limited brain cells between you two!"

Darryl grumbled something and went to fetch Talon's straps from his truck's tool box in the bed. Working with Ronnie and Talon, they hitched the straps to the truck's eye hooks in the front, to pull the truck out of the ditch. Once the other Ram was freed and pulled out, Talon took a moment to trim up the rose bush and make it look nicer, and gave the woman a discount. It helped defuse the situation.

Ronnie climbed back into Talon's truck first, followed by Talon a minute later after he stowed his tool box away. He climbed back in and they quickly backed out and left.

"How does Cyrus, who's such a stud, have such a fucking dumb brother and uncle?"

"I ask that question too!" chuckled Talon.

"C'mon, let's go back to my place, and I'll make lunch~" Ronnie offered.

Returning back to Ronnie's house, Talon parked in the gravel to the side of his house. Hopping out, Ronnie led the way back into his house through the back door. Talon stepped inside first, followed by Ronnie who closed the door and locked it. Turning around to make sure it was locked, he felt Talon put his beefy arms around Ronnie and pull him close. The dog immediately blushed.

"Why don't we have a little fun before lunch?" Came Talon's smooth voice, followed by a playful kiss on his cheek. Ronnie turned even more red from blushing, especially when he felt a paw playfully grope him. Turning around, he watched Talon drop his shorts, revealing that he only wore a bright orange and white jockstrap beneath his blue gym shorts. There was nothing left to the imagination by Talon's impressive bulge straining the fabric.

"Whoa~" was all Ronnie could say. Talon playfully grabbed one of Ronnie's paws and guided it into his pouch, where Ronnie felt how thick Talon was. He pulled out a nice floppy cock, uncut and tan, which he fondled in his grip. "Wow."

"That's what everyone says~" laughed Talon playfully.

Ronnie stroked it and smiled, as Talon pulled him into a kiss. Ronnie went with it, and closed his eyes as his lips made contact and he felt the Dober's warm tongue gently brush against his. Ronnie felt like he was going to melt. Ronnie gently pulled back from the kiss and felt Talon run a paw through his long hair and smile at him.

"I'd like to get cleaned up, if you don't mind."

"I'll join ya!" Talon grinned.

Going to the bathroom, Ronnie turned the shower on and let it heat up, while he stripped out of his clothes. He took his tanktop off and momentarily paused at Talon caressing him and tracing the designs to his chest tattoo. He smiled and stripped his shorts and boxers off, kicking them aside. Talon gave Ronnie a wolf whistle and fondled his balls and pierced cock.

"Now THAT is hot!" Talon complimented. "I love Prince Alberts~"

"Well, well~" chuckled Ronnie as he saw Talon kneel down and put his cock into his muzzle to suck on his softie. Ronnie closed his eyes and instantly got hard to Talon sucking on his cock and teasing the curved barbell with his tongue.

"Whoa, fuck, that's great~"

"Thanks!" Talon grinned as he got up. He put an arm around Ronnie and helped him into the shower and pulled the curtain shut behind them.

Enveloped by the steam, Talon grabbed some shampoo and lathered up Ronnie's long hair. Talon marveled at it as he massaged his scalp and ran his fingers through his shiny, soapy locks. As Ronnie washed it out in the stream of water, Talon rubbed soap on Ronnie's belly and chest and soaped him up. He rotated around and enjoyed Talon massaging him all over. After rinsing himself off, Ronnie did the same for Talon. The dog admired all of Talon as he soaped him up and rubbed his muscular body all over. He marveled at his nice chest and its tattoos, his sleeves, and the fancy back tattoo that looked more like a mural. When he finished up, he put his arms around Talon and smiled, and blushed when he felt Talon gently grab and hold a paw all affectionately.

"So are you a top, Ronnie?"

"Yeah, for the most part~"

"Good~ 'Cause I want you to smash this ass."

"Oh boy..." chuckled the dog. "I take it you're a bottom?"

"Yeppers!"

"Well you do have a nice ass for that."

"You fuck raw or anything?"

Ronnie laughed a bit awkwardly. "I probably shouldn't~ but I just got an STD check recently and it came back fine."

"Good! I just got mine done and clean as a whistle. I want you to plow me and breed my ass~"

"Sure!"

Talon washed his face off and felt Ronnie put his arms around him again.

"It's been a long time since I fucked a guy, so forgive me if I'm nervous~"

"Naw. That's fine. It's cool!" Talon laughed. "I think that's cute~"

Talon shut the water off and pushed the curtain aside to watch the steam come gushing out. He stepped out and grabbed one of the blue towels and dry himself off. Ronnie grabbed the other and dried his body off. He dabbed as much as he could with the towel for his hair, and fetched the blow dryer to speed the process up. He brushed his hair while blowing it.

"Man, that's some nice hair you got there~ I love the lil' curls you get here and there!"

"Heh, thanks~ That's how my hair goes." Ronnie chuckled. "Most people love how my hair looks, except for one guy once at a gay bar. Told me it looked gross and brushed me off."

"Tisk, tisk." Talon shook his head. "Welcome to gayville!"

"Yeah! Apparently so!"

Talon put his arm around Ronnie and pulled him into another kiss. "Why don't we get a bit more comfy in your room~"

Stepping into the bedroom, Talon threw himself onto Ronnie's bed ass up. He got into position on all fours and looked back to smile at Ronnie playfully, a grin emerging as he shook his firm rump at him.

"C'mon stud~ Show me what you got!"

Ronnie stroked his boner as he stepped onto the bed and grabbed his bottle of lube. He squired some of the cool, clear gel onto his fingers and slicked his cock up. He put some more lube on and rubbed it on Talon's hole. He playfully slid a finger in and felt how snug it was. Getting into position, Ronnie adjusted himself and gripped the base of his cock and pressed the pierced head against his warm entry. Giving a slight shove, he pushed himself into a grunting Talon, who adjusted his pose a bit and relaxed for Ronnie to hilt himself in. Placing his paws on Talon's hips, Ronnie slowly rocked his and slowly began to fuck at a steady, slow pace. He closed his eyes and felt his heart race from the sensation and the excitement to fuck a guy after so many years. He breathed through his mouth, slow and steady. Talon rested his head on a pillow and reached back to jerk himself off.

"Nice n' steady~ Just how I like it~" Talon complimented.

"Fuck you're snug..."

"Just how it should be!" chuckled the Dober as he tightened his hole up teasingly for Ronnie, who groaned at the sensation.

"That's nice..."

"Yeah take your time..."

Ronnie closed his eyes and pleasured himself. He caressed Talon's back and hips, and played with his nub. As his thrusts picked up pace, Talon kept firm with his eyes closed enjoying the sensation. He didn't moan, just a grunt or two here and there. Ronnie laid on his back and reached a paw down to feel Talon's huge uncut cock, which was rock hard in his grip.

"God I'm gonna nut soon~"

"Yeah, blow your load~"

Ronnie thrust faster and huffed and puffed as he felt himself get closer and closer with each thrust. He stroked Talon with a tight grip, and laid against his back and fucked harder. Hips smacked against Talon's rump as the bed shook and creaked. Ronnie pumped Talon's cock, slickened by pre. Talon and Ronnie grunted and moaned together as the dog finally came in his friend. He let out a loud grunt and slammed himself all the way in as his cock throbbed and filled Talon with his hot pent up seed. Talon moaned and shot his load all into Ronnie's paw. His cock throbbed and oozed cum.

"Oh wow~"

"Yeah."

"Oh fuck."

"Fuck yeah, Ronnie~"

"Hot dude~"

"Fuck yeah!"

Ronnie slowly pulled himself out and fell against the bed. He wiped his cum covered fingers on his belly and breathed a huge sigh of relief. Talon rolled over and pulled Ronnie into a deep, long kiss. Ronnie closed his eyes and felt his heart melt. He really liked this Talon fella.

Breaking the kiss, they both laid in bed and breathed, slowly, to regain their bearings.

"Holy shit... I haven't fucked a guy in ages." Ronnie huffed.

"Well you didn't lose a beat!" Talon laughed. "Hope it was tighter than pussy!"

"Ha, yeah, shit's snug~" laughed Ronnie.

"Come here, stud!" Talon motioned as Ronnie rolled over to feel Talon wrap his tattooed arms around Ronnie. Ronnie closed his eyes and rested his head against Talon's tattooed chest and savored the warmth of his friend, who gently rubbed his back and stroked his long hair. Talon smiled and kissed Ronnie's forehead. It had been so long since he got this kind of affection. Not since his late girlfriend. Ronnie was quiet for a time, just savoring all of it as Talon held him in his arms.

"You doing okay, Ronnie?"

"Yeah~ Sorry, was just... really enjoying this~"

"Oh it's fine!"

"It's been a long time since I've been held like that." The dog admitted. "Just brought back memories."

"You know you're a lot of fun Ron." Talon admitted with a smile. "Fun in and out of bed! I like you, a lot."

"Oh yeah?"

"Maybe we should make this a more regular thing, ya know?"

"I think you're onto something." Ronnie chuckled.

"How about we make this more regular then?"

"Sure, stud~"

Ronnie laughed and got up. "How about we get cleaned up... and I'll get that lunch started!"

"You'll like that wine I got!"

"I hope so!"

Talon laughed and got up from the bed and put an arm around Ronnie as he held onto their clothes. They stepped out to go get back into the shower.

Hopping onto Granville Street with his son, Ronnie and Colt drove to work in the blue Civic. Taking a slightly different route, to fulfill a slightly different agenda for the day, Ronnie drove to downtown Newark, to help set up the audio gear for a music video shoot. Barev's video department had two call offs, and Rob needed help with the audio, so Varg offered to lend Ronnie over for the day to assist. It was a chance to interoperate between Viking Records and Barev Video Services.

Parking in the lot in the back, Ronnie found himself at a former school, which was turned into the new headquarters for United Barev Industries. Apparently the former Newark High School from many years ago, the school itself was turned into offices for the headquarters, and some extra office space for Varg. The former gymnasium was now turned into a giant studio. Off to the side was an old brick farm house, neatly landscaped with a small pond. That was Rob's personal office.

Colt walked close beside his Dad as they entered through the open fire doors that led to the parking lot. Stepping into the studio from a small corridor, Ronnie saw the huge expansive studio, which was once a basketball court. A large black backdrop was set up, and colored spotlights were being set up. What stood out the most to Ronnie were the big studio cameras. They were black, blue, and creamy white, and the blue really stood out to Ronnie; he had never once seen a camera colored blue like that. "RCA" was stamped on them. One of them was being worked on by Rob himself, with his friend Maverick.

Going to get himself checked in, Ronnie and Colt returned to the studio, where he got to work setting up the audio gear. The band had already placed their amps in place, and Ronnie began to mic everything up. Running cables, plugging in and testing microphones, Ronnie got the stage set up. Colt stood and watched his Dad hard at work, before wandering over to see what Rob and the others were up to. When Ronnie finished up, he saw his son with Maverick, young Colt getting to handle one of the portable cameras, which rested on his shoulder. Ronnie recognized it as an HL-791, the one Rob described when he met him in Chicago.

"I want a picture of that!" Ronnie chuckled as he whipped his phone out. "Hey Colty! Spin that camera around!"

"Okay!" Colt grinned big. Maverick laughed as Ronnie took a picture of him, proudly holding the HL-791 on his shoulder.

"Gotta show the kiddo the technology that's older than him!" Maverick laughed. "Hey can I have that back now, lil' bro?"

"Sure!" Colt exclaimed. He gingerly handed the camera back to Maverick, who carried it back to set it on a tripod off into the corner.

"That was cool, Dad!" Colt exclaimed as Ronnie walked over to see what Rob was up to. Ronnie saw Rob talking over a headset that was plugged into the studio camera, which was aimed down at a calibration chart. Rob requested over the microphone to have the setup commence. In his grip, Rob held a large black glass cylinder.

"What's going on here, Rob?"

"Changing out and calibrating a new tube." Rob said. His voice sounded like normal, dry, but serious. "Blue tube was having an issue on camera two, so we decided to just swap it with a low hour spare."

"Ah."

"Sometimes Plumbicons have blemish issues that pop up in the life of the tube. Tis' the nature of lead-oxide targets."

"That sounds toxic!" laughed the Doberman as he pushed some hair out of his face. He pointed to the camera, then the tube that Rob held in his grip. "So just curious, what kind of camera is this? And how does that work?"

"Well this is an RCA TK-47A. It's the last studio camera RCA ever made, and this one's a low serial number model, built in 1979 for NBC. It served on Saturday Night Live until 1995, and then completely retired from NBC in 1996. It went to a smaller production house, and actually stayed in use until 2010, when we got it!"

"Wow."

"Not bad for a tube camera that was only supposed to be around for a few years!" Rob remarked. He opened a side panel up to show Ronnie the internals of the camera. Ronnie walked over with his son to get a closer look. Inside, he saw the optical assembly of the camera, its huge deflection yokes, and rows of logic boards teeming with electronics.

Rob pointed out the features and explained how the camera worked. "So incoming scene radiation is focused by the lens, and it goes through the dichotic splitter, which splits the light into its primary colors of red, blue and green, which are sent to each individual tube here. The tubes are installed into the deflection yokes, which magnetically deflect the cathode ray to scan the imaging target, and magnetically focus the target."

Rob held up his Plumbicon tube for Ronnie and Colt to see. "The incoming light falls upon this target, which is made of lead-oxide, with a little doping of sulfur-dioxide. The light builds up an electrical charge pattern, which is read out by the cathode ray, which is swept across the target many times a second to discharge for the next line draw. This then goes into the video circuitry for processing to output. This TK-47 uses three thirty millimeter, Plumbicon tubes, with a standard triode-gun. This is a Plumbicon tube my company manufactures."

Ronnie got to hold the delicate glass tube. Holding it up, it was several inches long, and sported a black sheathing inside, which Rob explained protected the light piping for the tube's bias light assembly. The target was a light tan color from the lead-oxide, and had a black metal ring around it, the "anti-halation disk". At the base was a small switch for the variable bias-light at the base of the gun, and several gold prongs stuck out the bottom. A white label that bore Barev's name and logo read "P5000/B PLUMBICON ABO" towards the bottom of the tube.

"Wow, that's complicated~" Ronnie remarked. He handed the tube back to Rob, who stowed it back into a small Styrofoam lined box.

"Tubes separate the men from the boys~" Rob chuckled.

"I can see that!" laughed the Dober.

After getting a chance to fiddle around with one of the TK-47's with his son, Rob led them to the control room, which was at the west end of the studio, behind dark tinted windows. Stepping inside, Ronnie glanced around at all the gear that was on display. At the far end of the room were a set of rack mounted, open-reel videotape machines. Five Sony BVH-2000's sat in their racks with a television and vectorscope above them. Two of them were loaded up with a gold reel of one inch videotape, the "Barev 525". Sharing space in one rack was two analog audio recorders, which also used the same one inch videotape. Against one wall were two massive Ampex AVR-1 Quads, the two-inch videotape machines sitting empty and shut down. Opposite of them on the north wall were the setup terminals for the fleet of TK-47's, and their HL-791 portables. Looking over to where the large tinted windows were, Ronnie saw an audio mixing console, a lighting control panel, and a huge analog vision switcher, complete with old Trinitron televisions mounted with it. The dog looked mighty impressed.

Getting his spot at the audio mixing console, Ronnie got acquainted with the equipment. After making sure the mix sounded good, and a dry run by the band, taping went underway. Ronnie got to watch via a monitor giving him a live feed, as he mixed the music in real time. Working the sliders and glancing at notes which marked specific times, Ronnie listened to the upbeat rock song through a pair of headphones to hear accurately. Colt watched from his side. Watching the small television in front of him, Ronnie was amazed. It looked exactly like an eighties production. To his left, he glanced over at Rob leading the pack. He and Maverick worked with their engineers as they cut it together on the vision mixer. They gave commands through their headsets, and quickly worked the sea of knobs, dials, and faders to cut it in real time. Ronnie monitored the audio feed and worked his sliders to the notes propped up by the TV. On the monitor, he watched the lead guitarist move and the camera follow. The bright spotlights comet-tailed a brilliant crimson and purple. "Wow" was all Ronnie could think as he listened.

They did two three takes, and after consulting, the second take was chosen for the finished product. The edited master copy was digitized over and given to the band via a thumb drive. Varg took the reel of audio tape and Rob kept the one inch master copy. With taping over, the studio slowly returned back to normal. Ronnie helped stow the audio gear away for the band, the set was torn down, and lights put away. The studio cameras were wheeled back over to the corner and stowed.

Raveling up a stretch of audio cable, Ronnie secured it with a Velcro strap and sat it in the case with some other cables. He stood up and stretched, ran a paw through his hair, and took a breather. Ronnie really was impressed by what he saw and helped with. It made him want to make a music video of his own for his YouTube channel. It made him want to get back into music. Glancing to his left, he saw Colt standing and talking to Varg and Rob.

"Dad! This was cool!" Colt grinned as he looked up at his dad.

"Yeah, I have to say, this was a real blast. Never done anything like this before~" Ronnie remarked as he put an arm around his son. "Makes me kind of want to make a music video for one of my songs?"

"Oh yeah?" Rob said as he stowed one of his HL-791's away.

"What song is that?" Varg asked.

"You should do my favorite!" Colt laughed. "Sunshine, go away!"

"That one." Ronnie laughed.

"Isn't that a Jonathan Edwards song?"

"Yeah. It's Colt's favorite~" chuckled the Dober. "That's the one I'd like to make a simple video for. For my lil' man here!"

"Well me and Mav want to test a camera, so if you'd like. We could shoot one this evening."

"Oh really?"

"Yeah."

"Neat! I'll do that!"

"Well that sounds like a plan." Chuckled Varg. "Why don't we record something when we get back to the shop?"

"Sure!"

Doing a little bit of work at his living room desk, Ronnie sent a message to his friend Colt on Telegram, while watching his new music video slowly upload to his YouTube page. Looking excited, he felt impatient to the seemingly slow trickle of data as his video uploaded and processed. A buzz from his phone turned his attention to a message from the president of the Akron chapter of the Hells Angels, sending him the time and date for his first meeting with them. Ronnie opened his calendar program and added it in for the second of July, which was roughly a week and a half away.

Checking his calendar, Ronnie saw another date planned with Talon, and a trip planned to Chicago with Varg, for business. Viking Records was looking to merge with Carson Records, with Viking being the surviving company. As part of the engineers, Varg wanted him to be part of the negotiating group. Ronnie felt it was an ironic role reversal, from the scolded, disgraced artist, to now part of the negotiating group to determine the fate of Carson's assets. From what he remembered, Carson wasn't a massive record company. Even when Hard Times was in their studios, their equipment seemed dated. They never updated their recording equipment, and apparently after several big name acts dropped them, the company went into financial freefall. But that was "Ronnie's fault"; Carson blamed all their ills on the plane crash taking all their money away in the lawsuits and payouts. It was an easy copout. Ronnie hoped to get his song catalogue back, so Hard Times could be theirs again, instead of being at the mercy of a vengeful record company.

His thoughts were interrupted by a new message from Colt.

"What do you think about all of us coming out to hang with you for a few days in mid July?" Colt wrote. Ronnie quickly typed a reply back.

"Hey I like that idea!" Ronnie responded. "I'm also coming up to Chicago for a big meeting with my workplace this coming Monday."

"Oh yeah?"

"Viking Records is going to buy out Carson and merge, and Viking will be the surviving company."

"Good. Fuck that company lol." Colt responded. "What about the catalogue?"

"I'll have to see."

"I'd fucking love to have those songs back, and then free the damn name too."

"Yeah. I agree."

"Well send ole Carson our regards!" Colt wrote with a sarcastic hint to it.

"Heh. I will. LOL." Ronnie typed back.

Checking the time and the upload progress, Ronnie decided to watch his music video play back. Clicking on the file, Ronnie watched it pop up in the media player. Singing a cover to the song "Sunshine", Ronnie's music video was shot at an abandoned concrete factory in Zanesville. Dressed rather casually in shorts and a t-shirt, he walked around the abandoned, crumbling landscape, which was shot by Rob and Maverick on their analog cameras. Ronnie was impressed by how good his guitar sounded. Varg did the drums and bass for the simple, folksy song. The video quality had a nice retro feel to it; the picture looked a bit soft, with an electronic "smooth" feel to its flow. Everything had a pleasing "pastel color" look to it. He thought he had heard that the camera used a different type of imaging tube, a Saticon, or something like that. The last shot was of Ronnie singing the last line while taking a seat in the abandoned, dusty office, in the beam of the evening light through a hole in the roof. As the shot zoomed out rapidly, the bright light through the hole comet-tailed a silvery white trail through the shot. As the song came to an end on the last note, the shot faded to black. He watched it again with the same look of awe on his face. When it finished again, he checked YouTube to find that the video was finished uploading, and was now processing.

Hopping off his desktop, Ronnie checked the time again and decided to go work on his motorcycle. Stepping out into the backyard, Ronnie smiled at watching Colt and his friends all run around in the yard. His Fatboy sat in the shade under the big tree, and Ronnie went to fetch his toolbox from the garage. Sitting down in the shade on the cool grass, Ronnie worked on replacing the throttle to his Dad's bike. He had driven it last weekend to Akron to see the president of the HAMC's Akron chapter, when on the way back, he started having problems with the throttle. He eventually lost power while passing through Coshocton, and got picked up by Cyrus, and "towed" home.

Getting his paws covered in grease, Ronnie replaced the throttle, which took him roughly half an hour to put everything back together. He wiped his paws off on a rag and brought the bike back up and sat on it. He fired it up and gave the throttle a squeeze, which a mighty roar of its throaty exhaust. A happy grin returned on Ronnie's face as he shut the bike back off and threw the kickstand back down.

Turning to walk back towards the house to wash his paws off, Ronnie called for Colt to open the door for him, while he tried to rub off as much grease as he could with his now oil soaked rag. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Colby's grandpa emerge from his house, to check on his grandson who was having a blast with Colt and his friends.

"Hey neighbor!" he called. It was the first time that he ever addressed Ronnie. It actually took the dog by surprise. He stopped and turned to say hello to his neighbor, who was named Greg Matheson.

"Oh, hey!" Ronnie smiled. He walked over to the fence to greet him, and watched as Greg looked a bit nervous at Ronnie's presence. "I don't think we've ever talked before~ I'm Ronnie Samson."

"Greg Matheson." The older gray wolf said in a rather reserved way. "Uhh, please don't take this the wrong way Ronnie, but... you are a Hells Angel are you?"

"Yeah, I am." Ronnie nodded. "Is that a problem?"

"No! No! We just... we... we... don't want any trouble..." Greg hesitated.

Ronnie was taken aback by his nervousness. The dog just gave him a lighthearted chuckle and a smile. "Well you won't get any trouble from me. Or my pals- we only make trouble if someone wants trouble~"

"Oh."

"I hope I didn't scare you or your wife!" Ronnie remarked in a genuinely concerned tone to his voice.

"No, no, we're just curious!" Greg said with a smile that began to emerge. "I must say Ronnie, that your son is a real little angel. Colt comes over here and is a little gentleman."

Ronnie glanced over to Colt and his friends climbing and swinging from the tree limbs. It brought a smile to his face. "Colt's my pride n' joy. He's kept me alive all these years when things were going wrong."

"I can tell you're a good father to him."

"I try." Ronnie nodded. "I'm all he's got, after his mom died, and then my Dad passed away."

Greg looked sad at hearing that. The screen door behind him opened up to reveal his wife, Katherine, who poked her head out, announcing to the kids that she just made lemonade for them. Greg invited Ronnie over to his yard, where he could get out of the sun and have a cold drink with them and the kids. Soon he found himself in the shade, sitting with Greg and Katherine, telling them stories and allowing them to get to know their new neighbor. After Ronnie explained his background, the idea of an outlaw biker as a neighbor seemed less scary to the Mathesons.

"Like I tell anyone who asks- the club ain't like the mob, where the top down gives orders to sow mayhem. It's a sort of twisted free will to decide what you want to do within the club. Me and my circle of friends in the club back home in Chicago, we just do our own thing, ride our bikes, and play music. I can't speak for all red and whites though."

"Oh I see." Greg remarked. "Well you know how bikers are portrayed... lawless and crazy."

"Just like Mindy's ex-husband." Katherine spoke up.

"Mindy said something about that to me~"

"Bruce Carlson..." Greg shook his head. "I knew there was something off about him when I first met him, but I didn't say anything. He seemed like an okay guy, but after our granddaughter got sick and passed away, he really changed during the worst part of the pandemic. Got real violent and paranoid. Like he snapped or something."

Katherine leaned forward. "We're scared to death that's he's going to come back here and harm us..."

"We had Mindy return home to live here after he kicked in her door and threatened her with a gun..." Greg grimaced.

"You just never know about people. It's crazy out there... how many crazy people lurk."

"Well, you'll see a lot of them in this town!" Greg laughed. "It's sad. This town used to be so nice, and now it's just a shadow of itself."

"So I've heard."

"So you're originally from Chicago?"

"Well New York, when I was born." Ronnie laughed. "I was born in Queens, and moved to Chicago when I was four because Dad got a job transfer. But Chicago's my home basically. I don't remember anything about New York. My extended family still lives there... but we never talk."

"That's sad." Katherine frowned.

"They were afraid of me and my Dad being Hells Angels... so they kind of cast us adrift. So for a long time, especially after Mom left, and then Grandpa passing away, it was just me and Dad. Now he's gone too. So I've just learned to accept that lonely feeling sometimes."

"Aww, that's too sad." Katherine said in a sympathetic tone.

"I lost him in the pandemic, and that was a really hard blow to take." Ronnie frowned. He glanced over to where Colt was, to see him sipping on some lemonade with his pals. "My lil' man kept me living. I have to live for him. I can't die. Not yet at least!"

"You're a good father. I wish Colby's Dad was like that..." Greg shook his head. "Instead we all dread the day he shows up here..."

"Well if you have any problems Mister and Misses Matheson, you let me know!" Ronnie exclaimed, which made them look nervous.

Finishing up from talking to his neighbors, Ronnie ventured back inside. Taking a seat at his computer, Ronnie woke the desktop back up to find a new message from his friend Killian, asking him about his trip back to Chicago in the coming days. He also noticed a text from Talon, asking if him and his son wanted to come over to his place later for some BBQ. As he wrote messages back, he played his music video on his YouTube page, to see how it looked. To his surprise, he saw already some comments, expressing excitement at a new song from him. Ronnie looked surprised at the positive reception, including a new message from Colt, saying he had just seen the music video and was really impressed.

Maybe making a comeback was a real possibility.

Ronnie was starting to like this newfound jet-set lifestyle working in Ohio. The morning sun shone brightly in the eastern sky at the Newark-Heath airport, as preparations were made for the flight to Chicago. Varg's immaculate DC-6B sat on the tarmac, glistening like a polished mirror. The old Cloudmaster was natural metal, with a dark blue cheatline outlined in red that looked like a Viking longboat. The nose bore the "golden WHIN logo", as Varg and Rob Barion shared a business partnership. The upper fuselage read "VIKING RECORDING SYSTEMS LTD" in a italicized blue font. The old "Six" was christened "Stavanger" after his hometown in Norway. Ground crew finished up fueling the plane, while some mechanics did a last minute tweak to the number two engine. Other ground crew hand-turned the big propellers.

Ronnie stood with his son, admiring Rob's polished DC-3, named "The International". The usually leather clad Dober stood in polished dress shoes, black slacks, and a pressed white dress shirt, complete with a blue and gray necktie he picked up at the local Goodwill. The restored old Douglas certainly looked in better condition than the old and tired DC-3 that killed his friend and career. Glancing around at the airport, Ronnie was impressed by the beehive of activity that was going on. Workers worked on aircraft, and planes came and went, with the deep rumble of pistons and propellers.

"This is cool!" Colt exclaimed to his Dad with a big happy grin. "We should visit the museum again!"

"We should!" Ronnie smiled as they walked back towards the DC-6. "I think this is a pretty neat place~"

"I'm getting used to flying, Dad~ It's fun!" Colt remarked as they walked.

"Yeah, I'm kinda liking this myself!" Ronnie laughed. "Free air fare!"

With "Stavanger" ready, Ronnie and Colt boarded with Varg and his company's management team. Climbing in through the rear hatch, Ronnie was presented with a fancy executive cabin, much like Rob's Super Constellation. The cabin was white with faux wood paneling that had a nice shine to it. The carpet was blue, and so were the cabin seating. The tail of the plane had Varg's private quarters, bathrooms and the galley. The forward half of the cabin was open, with a small bar, and conference area. Ronnie and Colt took a seat by a window near the wing, and watched as the big radial engines were turned over with their copious clouds of oily blue smoke. The big propliner felt like it was coming to life, as Ronnie felt the vibrations through his seat. Soon they began taxiing for the runway, and "Stavanger" calmly lifted off into the quiet morning skies of central Ohio. Westbound, it would take two and a half hours to make it to Chicago with the headwind.

While Varg chatted with his CFO and COO, Ronnie sat with his son and played a couple games of tic-tac-toe on a notepad to pass the time. Ronnie also drew some pictures with Colt, the young Dober ultimately drawing a picture of him and his Dad on a motorcycle together.

Following an early lunch, Varg asked Ronnie to meet with him in his private quarters, in the tail of the plane. Ronnie stepped into the room through the bulkhead and closed the door. Compared to the front of the plane, the roar of the big piston engines was very subdued. Varg took a seat at his desk and Ronnie sat down in the plush chair beside it.

"I take it you'd like to have your catalogue back?" Varg asked him.

"Well if that's possible, yeah, I'd like to get the band's music catalogue back and get control again of our music."

"It is very well possible since they're not really in a position to dictate too much in the merger terms."

"I see."

"I know firsthand about not having ownership of your music, because I had to go through that shit fifteen years ago when I got fucking fired from my own band~" Varg quipped with a shake of his head in disappointment. "All of my early work I no longer own."

"Seems crazy that a company can do that with someone's artistic output."

"But they can!" laughed the Arctic wolf. "Now my question is- if I can get the catalogue, what are your plans with it?"

"Well I'd honestly like to have all of us- myself, Colt, Killian, Adam, and Todd, have a say in it, since we all had creative input in our first two albums."

"Well we can have it through VRS, with a stipulation that if you ever depart, or whatever, it reverts back to you."

"I like that idea~" Ronnie nodded.

"I don't like making contracts absolute you know? I also don't like the fine print shit... shit's hard to read!" Varg exclaimed with another hearty, deep laugh. Even Ronnie had a chuckle with him.

"Why do I feel like this is going to be a shitshow~"

"Any business meeting's a fucking shitshow." Varg chuckled. "Why do you think I have Rob as a business partner?"

After talking with Varg, Ronnie returned back to the nose of the plane to find Colt sitting with his face against the window, watching the clouds drift by the polished wing. Ronnie peered out the window with him, remarking at how blue the sky looked. Taking a seat, Ronnie grabbed his notebook and pen and started jotting ideas down for an album, a small EP he had thought of over the past couple of days. He felt motivated to create something to showcase his artistic talent for a "comeback".

At eleven o'clock, "Stavanger" overflew the metropolis of Chicago. Watching from his window with Colt, Ronnie saw the familiar landscape of "home" return as the DC-6 orbited over the city in Midway's landing pattern. Feeling the plane bank around, Ronnie got to see parts of the Central Manufacturing District pass in and out of view. A huge factory was in the process of being demolished, and a faint cloud of dust stretched from its location. The former Chicago Glass and Optics Factory, owned by Rob Barion, which was blown up in a bombing in late 2021 that shocked the city, was finally being demolished, after Barev won its multi-billion dollar lawsuits against the city. Ronnie was reminded of his hometown's corruption as he watched part of the building come down in their descent for the runway.

The Cloudmaster came descending in slowly, holding a slight nose down droop for the runway. As the threshold got crossed, the nose was pulled up slightly, and the four radial engines powered down to idle. The gear touched and bounced once, smoke sputtering from the main gear as "Stavanger" touched down. The nose gear was held off for a few seconds until it was gently touched down onto the center line. Giving full reverse thrust, the Cloudmaster revved back up and bled off speed to the roar of its polished propellers.

Under the watchful eye of Barev's security and Centoh's hub director, Colt, Adam, and Killian stood on the tarmac, awaiting the return of their best friend. The three leather clad bikers watched with interest as the big DC-6B was guided in by ground crew. It turned slowly on its inboard engines, and parked. Both engines were momentarily run lean, before being shut down. Ground crew approached to chock the wheels and press the airstair up against the rear fuselage. Colt, Adam, and Killian walked over to where the airstair was.

The hatch opened up, revealing the flight crew, who soon stepped aside for Varg to descend with his management team. Ronnie poked his head out with Colt, and grinned upon seeing his friends, the first time since very early May.

"Ronnie!" Killian shouted. "Welcome back!"

Making his way down the steps, the Doberman was instantly greeted with warm hugs from his friends, who all beamed with excitement at seeing him again.

"You gonna hand out bibles or something?" teased Adam with a laugh as he jokingly tugged at Ronnie's necktie.

"Hey! Easy on the tie, motherfucker!" laughed Ronnie. "I only paid two bucks for this at Goodwill!"

"Oooooooooh!" laughed Adam.

"Rollin' in the dough." Laughed Colt.

"Hey!" Ronnie's son greeted. "Hi Big Colt!"

"Lil' Colt!" the Arctic wolf exclaimed as he got a hug from the young Dober. "I missed ya, lil' man!"

"I did too!"

"How's Ohio?"

"Different!" laughed the kid. He got a hug from Killian and Adam as well.

"Hope you're making new friends over there!" Killian added as he gave the kid a playful nudge with his elbow.

"Yeah!" Colt grinned. "New best friends in Newark!"

Varg and his management team went and borrowed Barev's Tahoe, which was always stationed at the Centoh airport. The white Tahoe took off with them through the security perimeter. Ronnie would get a ride with his friends.

"Oh god, Adam brought his Mom's van..." Ronnie teased.

"Hey! She's a beauty!" Adam responded with a laugh.

"Rides better than that piece of shit van you once had..." chuckled Killian.

"Bringing back nightmares, Kills~" Ronnie shook his head. He helped his son into the back and hopped in as Adam slid the door shut and ran around to get into the driver's seat. They turned around and departed the airport through the security perimeter.

Carson Records was housed in an old brick building off Chicago Avenue. Dark tinted windows hid the long discussion in the conference room between the Carson executives and Viking management. At the long conference table, Ronnie sat with Varg and his executives. On the other side sat the stuffy suits of Carson's management. Between them on the table sat a floral arrangement, decorated with small platinum records, a sad reminder of Carson's former glory. Opposite of Ronnie sat his former manager, Pat Bragg.

Ronnie looked tired. It was entering the fourth hour of the negotiating, and everyone was jotting notes down as Varg and Carson's CEO directly spoke. Earlier Ronnie had toured the place with the other sound engineers; to his shock, Carson had never once upgraded any of their gear, and some of it had broken down and was out of service. It was no wonder why the label was in such financial dire straits, and was bleeding out talent. It looked like nothing had changed since the last time he was in their building half a decade ago. Glancing down at his notes, Ronnie looked at the negotiations so far. If they could come to an agreement, Carson would be the subsidiary to Viking, with Viking Records being the dominant entity. Carson would be Varg's Chicago studio, and the future name for his vinyl record plant that he was trying to open, also in Chicago. The equipment would be replaced and upgraded, and Carson would focus on other genres than the Viking label, which dealt more with rock n' roll, metal, and in-between.

The dog tapped his pen on his notepad and jotted another note down. He was relieved that the meeting was calm again, after an argument had broken out between him and Pat. Simmering tensions over the past boiled over in a brief screaming match between them. Carson was still sore over the plane crash five years ago, and old wounds got torn open when the CEO of Carson directly tried to accuse Ronnie of "ruining his company". Varg had to personally intervene to defuse the verbal screaming match.

Checking his watch, Carson's CEO announced that it was best to take a break. "I think we've made some great progress for this potential merger, and I would like to take what we've gathered and have a one on one with Varg and his CFO and COO, with mine. Why don't everyone take a long break."

"Ronnie, if you want to see your buds and your son, you're good to go from here!" Varg offered.

"You sure, Varg?"

"Yeah!" the burly Arctic wolf said with a smile.

"Alrighty, well thank you!"

Ronnie got up, stretched and carried his notes with him as he left the conference room.

Going downstairs and texting his friends to come and get him, Ronnie stepped outside to get some fresh air. As he read the reply back from Adam, he heard the door open up behind him. The Dober turned around to see Pat stepping outside. Ronnie froze in place at the presence of the yellow Labrador.

"Look, Ron, I don't want you to take it personal." Pat tried to say, which made Ronnie immediately roll his eyes in response.

"Look!" the Labrador exclaimed, sounding desperate. "You have to understand our side of the situation!"

"What is there to understand?" Ronnie remarked sarcastically. "That all of you just fucking blamed everything on me and my band mates for the plane crash and all the legal shit that came from it? Do you not think that all of us were sad and heartbroken that everyone onboard died?"

"Ronnie! That plane crash cost us thirty million dollars!"

"How the fuck was any of us supposed to know the plane was in bad shape? If I was a fucking airplane inspector, I wouldn't be the lead singer to a band! I'd be working for the fucking Federal Aviation Administration!"

"Ronnie, that's not what I'm saying!"

"Then what are you saying, Pat?" Ronnie glared.

Pat glared back in their standoff. "There are winners and losers in this industry, and you cost us, the company, all that money! There had to be consequences! What the hell are you doing accepting random plane flights anyways?"

"Meeting these unrealistic schedules that YOU would fucking have us do!" Ronnie shouted. "Have us fucking drive from Sioux City to El Paso, and then be like 'TUSCON IT IS!' And we'd be pushing that stupid van to the max hauling all of us and our gear, have no time for breaks, and then bitch if the van broke down! We wanted to get a new van! But Carson wouldn't sponsor it! But YOU wanted us to cover hundreds and hundreds, hell, thousands of fucking miles to sing our hearts out for YOUR bottom line!"

"Oh so this is my fault now?" Pat snapped. "I was trying to help all of you! Hard Times would have been NOTHING had it not been for me!"

"Oh yeah, sureeeeee." Ronnie laughed sardonically. "Help us alright, by overloading the fuck outta all of us and pushing us and that piece of shit van to the limit!"

"Welcome to touring, Ron!" Pat snorted. "Art is pain, motherfucker!"

"You're lucky I'm a nice guy, or I'd have my Angels stomp your fucking smirk into the pavement!"

"Ooooh, I'm so afra-"

Pat stopped talking when he saw a van pull up, and its doors swing open, revealing Colt, Adam, and Killian. All of them looked at the Labrador with a piercing, unhappy glare. The van's door slid open to reveal little Colt jumping out and running up to be with his Dad.

"You were saying, Pat?"

"Don't make it personal." Pat pointed at him. He glanced at the others and quickly retreated back inside.

"Sorry ass dickhead..." Ronnie grumbled under his breath as he turned to greet his son. Little Colt took his dad back into the cozy van, and they all got back in to take off to go hang out again.

"You guys have a huge argument or something?" Adam asked as he drove.

"Pat wanted to be a fucking dick." Ronnie shook his head. 'iTs NoThInG pErSoNaL.' Yeah, sure."

"Oh boy..." Killian rolled his eyes. "Pat always saying that when we'd bitch about the stupid gig schedule he'd set up for us."

"Make us go from El Paso to Tucson... and then friggin' LA..." Colt grumbled. "And then when the van would break down, he'd be the first one to bitch!"

"What a bumbling idiot." Adam laughed.

"I don't think Varg is gonna keep him, honestly." Ronnie chuckled. "He didn't seem very impressed at Pat's acumen."

"What acumen?" laughed the malamute.

"Pat can work at Weenie Hut Records!" laughed Colt.

"With your brother Kevin!" Adam laughed.

"Hah, yeah."

"How was your day, lil man!" Ronnie smiled at his son.

"Great!" little Colt exclaimed. "I got to hang out with Rudy and all my friends again! I even saw Zack again!"

"Oh did ya?"

"No more bruises!"

"Oh!" Ronnie exclaimed. He glanced up and saw the snickers and smirks on Adam, Colt, and Killian's faces.

"Zack told me his Dad doesn't hit or yell at him anymore!"

"Amazing~" Ronnie chuckled. "It's almost like a bully got taught a valuable lesson!"

"Yeah!"

Killian glanced back at the young Dober. "Kiddo, sometimes some fellas just need a taste of their own medicine!"

"Ah!"

"Oh god." Laughed Ronnie.

"I'm just sayin'!" Killian grinned at Ronnie.

Meeting up with his other friends, Ronnie and little Colt went to hang out with everyone at the clubhouse. While the kids all played outside together, Ronnie sat with his friends, catching up on their lives, over some beers and food.

"So how was the meeting?" Todd asked as he leaned back in a chair.

"Boring as shit." Laughed Ronnie. "Those Carson guys are dry as fuck."

"Nothing's changed." Big Colt chuckled.

"That's why they're going belly up!" Killian exclaimed.

"No, that's my fault, remember?" Ronnie remarked, which made everyone laugh.

"What about the music catalogue?" Don asked.

"Yeah!" Colt chimed in.

"Well, we did touch on the catalogue... and Varg and the president of Carson is having a one on one about that as we speak."

"Ah."

"It'd be nice if we could get our shit back." Adam grumbled.

"We shall see~" Ronnie shrugged. "Varg seems like a pretty good negotiator."

"Let's hope so." Todd quipped before taking a swig of his beer. "I'd like to get this band back together again and make some music without the corporate overlords breathing down our necks!"

"Yeah!" Don shouted.

"I'm thinking about making my own EP." Ronnie spoke up as he took a bite of some fries.

"Oh yeah?" the others asked curiously.

"I had this idea of covering a handful of songs I like and making it into a story or something about my life these past five years. Various songs you know? Nothing heavy or all metal shit, just stuff I like? Me and Colt like to listen to records we get at the store, and it's a bunch of stuff. Pop, rock n' roll, new wave."

"Cool~" Big Colt nodded. "I say go for it, man~"

"I'd like to propose if we dusted off our 'Hellraiser' project for the aborted third album..." Killian added.

"Oh yeah! We were maybe... fifty percent there when everything came crashing down?"

"Yeah, something like that."

"I'd have to dust the binder off at home..." Adam nodded. "But I got all the song stuff stowed away."

"I think we should start smaller." Todd shrugged. "Plus... the touring days are over with our careers..."

"Yeah." Adam nodded. "But the music world is so much different now with the internet, streaming, shit like that. We don't really have to tour at this point."

"It'd be nice." Don quipped.

"Nice?" laughed Todd. "Crammed in an overheating piece of shit van, having to piss on the side of the highway, and making unrealistic tour dates because of the fucking empty suits? Nice?"

"Hey! I'm just saying!"

"Yeah! Sayin' you're dumb!" laughed Todd with a grin.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" laughed Killian jokingly. "Easy killer!"

"Plus I couldn't do that shit now at forty one with a bigger family now..." Todd grimaced.

"Old fuck!" Colt laughed.

"You just wait, Colty! You're gonna blink and be my age soon!"

"Thirty-four and counting..." the Arctic wolf grimaced. "Get my life alert ready!"

"Thirty-one ~" Ronnie chuckled.

"Thirty-two!" laughed Killian.

"Twenty-four!" Don exclaimed.

"You're a big baby!" Todd teased.

"Yeah!"

"Thirty." Adam laughed.

"To think...Eddy would have been thirty-one." Killian frowned. "I miss my bro."

"Yeah." Everyone frowned.

"Next album's gonna be for him~"

"Here's hoping." Ronnie nodded.

Walking up to the group was the vice-president of the chapter, a burly Rottweiler, like them, dressed in his leathers. "Ronnie, you have a guest here. Do you know a Varg Eikemo?"

"Yeah! He's my boss."

"I'll let him in~"

A moment later, Ronnie glanced over to see burly Varg step inside with his CFO and COO. He walked up to greet Ronnie and all his friends.

"How'd the meeting go?" Ronnie asked curiously.

"I bring the news that the band Hard Times and its music catalogue is now in the safe possession of Viking Recording Systems~" Varg announced with a grin at the end. There was an eruption of excitement as they all cheered, realizing that their band could finally come back from the dead without legal repercussions.

After celebrating with his friends, Ronnie went to go see his longtime friend, and former boss, Paul Buford. Arriving at the Corral, Ronnie hopped out with his son, and told Adam that he'd be only a bit. As his friends waited in the van, Ronnie stepped inside with little Colt, where he immediately met Trish.

"Trish!" Ronnie yelled with a smile. "Trish! Hey!"

"Ronnie!" Trish exclaimed. A big grin formed on her face as she ran over to hug him. "Long time no see! How have you been?"

"Much better!" Ronnie laughed.

"Lil' Colty!" Trish exclaimed as she hugged his son

"Hi!" Colt exclaimed.

"Where's Paul at?" Ronnie asked.

"In the kitchen~"

Ronnie and Colt stepped inside the kitchen, where Ronnie saw Paul working quickly with his new cook. The Doberman glanced around at the cramped, stuffy kitchen, filled with the sounds of sizzling food on the griddle. Paul glanced up from the griddle and saw Ronnie. A smile immediately formed on his face.

"Ronnie!" Paul exclaimed. The graying gray wolf momentarily came over to hug his friend warmly. "How have you been in Ohio?"

"Doing really good now, thanks~" Ronnie smiled. "I see things are the same here!"

"Same shit, different day!" laughed Paul as he flipped some burgers. "But I'm holding in a-okay. I got a new guy and he's really good, so I'm doing fine and dandy. Lil' Colty!"

"Hi big Paul!" Colt grinned. He got a hug from Paul too. "How are you?"

"Great! How are you liking Ohio?" Paul asked him.

"Awesome! I have new friends there and its great!"

"Good!"

"What brings you back in Chicago?" Paul asked Ronnie.

"Business!"

"I thought you were gonna hand out bibles." Laughed Paul with a grin. Ronnie glanced down at his tie and just laughed.

"I wanted to make a good impression at the recording studio. My company is merging and buying out Carson Records."

"Oh that's neat."

"I'm not a Mormon, Paul!" Ronnie grinned.

"Heh!" Paul grinned.

"Well I best get going, Paul. The van is waiting for me out there. I gotta catch my flight back to Newark."

"Before you go! Lemme cook you something to go! Lemme cook you something to go!" Paul exclaimed.

"I'll pay for it." Chuckled Ronnie.

"No! No! It's on me!" Paul smiled.

"I insist." Ronnie smiled in return.

"Alright, fine, fine." Chuckled the wolf. "What do ya want?"

Saying goodbye to his friend Paul, Ronnie and Colt were driven back to the airport. Feeling a bit sad at leaving his hometown and his friends, Ronnie got plans made that they'd all met together again in July in Ohio, to record some music and hang out for a weekend. Driving onto the tarmac, Ronnie saw Varg's DC-6B waiting for him. Saying a final goodbye, Ronnie and Colt climbed aboard the "Six". Killian, Don, Colt, Todd, and Adam stood with Barev's security on the tarmac as they watched the Cloudmaster taxi away and soon take off. With a deep roar of its four radial engines, the old Douglas roared back into the air, and slipped away into the eastern haze. His friends all looked somber at his departure as they went back to the van.

The flight back to Ohio was calm. Sitting by the window with Colt, the two Dobers watched the puffy clouds pass by over Indiana, and the big propellers keeping them aloft. Ronnie found the dull drone of radial engines and propellers strangely mesmerizing. Nibbling on his dinner, Ronnie thought about the day as he jotted down ideas for his EP concept. Tapping a pen on his notepad, Ronnie glanced out the window and reflected on things.

As the sun began slipping away to the hills of Newark off to the west, "Stavanger" returned to Newark-Heath's small airport. Descending in with everything down, the burbling propliner touched down with its tires smoking on impact with the pavement. It was a smooth rollout, and the big Douglas returned to the tarmac and parked, where everyone disembarked for their cars. Ronnie stepped out with Colt, and the Dober saw Rob awaiting at the base of the airstair. Ronnie momentarily paused; Rob always carried a menacing vibe to his posture.

"Rob! What brings you here?" Ronnie asked.

"I own the airport?" Rob sarcastically quipped. "How was the flight?"

"Fine and dandy~" Ronnie shrugged. "We didn't die!"

"Good." Rob nodded. "Hey I want you to stop by my house real quick, I want to give you something."

"Oh?"

Before going home, Ronnie made a detour over to Rob's house. He pulled his Honda into the driveway, and hopped out to glance at Rob's single story, ranch home. The dog always thought it was ironic that for a guy who had a lot of money, his home looked very frugal. He stepped inside to meet Rob's husband Joey, a very attractive black and tan Doberman from Brazil. Ronnie always liked talking to him.

"Here, I want to give this to you." Rob announced as he came upstairs, rolling a large camera suitcase behind him. Ronnie, his interest perked, walked over to see Rob open the suitcase up, revealing one of his restored tube cameras. Sitting packed in the gray foam was a restored Ikegami HL-791. It had a Beta SP recorder attached to the back. A fancy Fujinon lens, complete with a SRD-52 zoom control grip attached, completed the camera. In the suitcase, there were some cables, batteries, and the battery trickle charger.

"Wow." Ronnie remarked.

"1985 Ikegami HL-791. Has a BVV-5 Betacam SP recorder on the back. Fujinon lens with fourteen time optical zoom and extender, and SRD-52 pistol grip. Three brand new and calibrated Low Capacity, Diode-Gun Plumbicons. I think you'll like this camera, since you remarked that you were impressed with the restored cameras in the studio."

"Wow!" the dog exclaimed with a smile. "I really appreciate this!"

"Let me grab you the VTR and some tapes."

Ronnie left for home with his backseat of his Civic filled with the camera suitcase, a Sony BVW-65 Beta SP VTR, and a box filled with sixty "Barev 635" Betacam SP tapes. He returned back home, feeling tired, but content from the day's journey.

Grabbing his new camera and tripod, Ronnie made his way out the door to spend the day hanging out with Talon. With Colt going with his friends for a trip to the zoo and water park, Ronnie had Saturday to himself. Placing his new electronics gear in the backseat of his Civic, he took off to go grab Talon from his house near Hanover. Hopping on the highway, it was a twenty minute trek out east to rural Licking County.

Talon lived just outside of the little tiny village of Hanover. He lived in what was an old farm house, painted white, with an old slate roof. It had a barn around back, where he saw Talon and his young daughter Emily, working on her bicycle in the shade. Ronnie hopped out and walked towards them.

"Daddy, do unicorns fart rainbows?" Ronnie could hear Emily ask her dad, who just chuckled.

"I don't think they do that!" Talon smiled at her.

"What if they puke rainbows!"

"I don't think they do that either, honey!"

"What if unicorns fart AND puke rainbows!"

"Ha, then that sounds like a case of rainbow dysentery!"

"What's that, Daddy?"

"Oh I'll tell ya when you're older~" chuckled the big Doberman as he got up to check Emily's bike over.

"Yay! You fixed it!" his daughter cheered. Emily was a seven year old little Dober, who had long brown hair, and cheerful green eyes. "Hi Ronnie!"

"Hello!" Ronnie smiled and waved.

"Well hello as well!" Talon grinned as he wiped his paws off with a rag. "You made it!"

"I did!"

"Emily, why don't you grab your bag, and we'll drive to Grandma and Grandpa's!" Talon suggested as Emily ran inside to grab her backpack. "Heh, heh, kids say the craziest things~"

"I had a chuckle." Ronnie smiled.

Taking his car, Ronnie drove Talon and Emily over to where Talon's dad worked at, a small grocery store and farm supply store in Hanover that the Bradleys owned, the appropriately named "Bradley Supply". As they drove, Talon told Ronnie about his dad, the mercurial Dale Bradley. He chuckled as he talked about a couple past boyfriends, and a girlfriend being scared of his Dad, who was largely fearless and fiercely protective of his family after Talon's eldest brother, Josh, was kidnapped as a baby at the gas station. His father jumped onto the car and held on until it wrecked, and Dale beat the abductor almost to death in a fit of blind rage.

"My Dad's signature weapon isn't a knife, or a gun. Oh no, it's a Craftsman shovel~"

"Are you kidding me?" Ronnie chuckled.

"Oh no." laughed Talon with a grin. "Dad's knocked people's lights out with that shovel~ He's got a reputation in Hanover."

"I see."

Pulling up to Bradley Supply, Ronnie saw that it was a decent sized, single story building, with large glass windows and doors which had advertisements hung up on them. Stepping out, Talon went in first with his daughter, as Ronnie stepped in after them. Glancing around, Ronnie saw that the interior had linoleum floors and white walls. One side of the store was a bunch of farm and hardware supplies, while the other side was a small grocery store and a deli. A bunch of commotion went on at the counter, and Ronnie saw Dale himself for the first time.

Sixty-nine years old, Dale still had a kind of young looking face, kind of looking like Talon. He had silvery gray hair that was neatly combed back around his cropped ears, and green eyes that seemed animated. He loudly vented about another incident with his daughter to his elderly mother, Phyllis, his younger brother Tim, and brother-in-law, Randy.

"Third time this year, Mom! Can you believe it! I had to get Allison revived again after another damn drug overdose! How many more times can my heart take it when I get a phone call and it's a damn nurse calling me from Columbus telling me that Allison overdosed on god alone knows what, and got revived in the ER when she was brought in practically dead! How many times can I shell out money to get her cleaned up, and then she just goes right back to those fucking shit dicks that keep pumping her up full of pills and other shit! And I know it's that boyfriend of hers... Oh, oh, oh, I know it's him keeping this shit going! That fuckin' outlaw biker piece of shit Oiler!"

"Dale, stop it you're going to have a heart attack!" His mother exclaimed.

"I never liked that piece of shit in the first place! The way those two make me feel, Ma? I'd hit the two of 'em in the head with the fuckin' shovel! Mom! I can't take this anymore!"

"Stop it Dale! Stop it right now before you have a stroke!"

"I can't take this anymore! Back and forth! Back and forth! How much more can a parent take!?"

Talon pursed his lips as he glanced at Ronnie. Talon gave a loud cough to clear his throat. "Hey Dad~"

Dale glanced up to see Talon, and his frustration immediately stopped. "Talon! My son! How are you?"

"Good!" Talon smiled. "A lil' Miss Emily wants to see her Paw-Paw~"

"Oh come here! Let Grandpa give you a big hug!" Dale exclaimed as he knelt down to hug the young lady Dober.

"Heh, Dad, I want you to meet my friend, Ron Samson."

Dale slowly got up from his hugging his granddaughter to glance at Ronnie's rugged looks. "It's nice to meet you." He said as he held a paw out. "Dale Bradley."

"Ron~" Ronnie smiled as he shook Dale's paw.

"Talon says you've been a very awesome date~" Dale said with a teasingly chuckle. Ronnie immediately blushed. "WELL, the same can be said about Talon~"

"I try~" laughed Talon.

After talking to Dale for a bit, Ronnie and Talon took off in the Civic to spend the day together, while Dale took his granddaughter to the zoo with Josh and his kids. Following Talon's directions, Ronnie drove north-east, into Coshocton county, to visit the Woodbury Wildlife Area.

Kicking up dust on the crunchy gravel road, Ronnie pulled into the parking lot of Woodbury, a large state park in neighboring Coshocton county. Turning and parking, Ronnie hopped out with Talon and grabbed his camera and tripod. Talon threw on a backpack that carried their lunch and some water, and they hit the trail on the other side of the parking lot.

"Huh, someone else is here~" Ronnie said, pointing to a black Dodge Charger that was parked by the restrooms, housed in an old stone building.

Talon just rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Oh god, that's Craig Bartelson."

"Who?"

"Oh, this creepy troll who lurks in the bathroom wanting to suck daddy dick~" Talon smirked. He proceeded to mock Craig's voice in a nasally, feminine drawl. "I'm Craig Bartelson and I have daddy issues, so I need to suck daddy dick!"

"Ha~" Ronnie chuckled.

"I went to school with him. Fucking douchebag." Talon teased as they continued on the trail.

Woodbury Reserve was a mixture of woodland and prairie fields, cut through with little streams. Ronnie walked with Talon along the trail, and despite the heat, had a good time chatting with him, and stopping to shoot video with his HL-791. He was shooting video to edit together with music his friend Adam made, to make an instrumental music video. He got video of the woods, the prairie, a large pond, and some shots of the stream, before they decided to take a break.

Finding a nice shaded spot by a rocky area of the stream, Ronnie and Talon sat and ate lunch together. The cool stream flowed by the big gray and brown rocks, providing a cool breeze as the water lapped against the stones with a calming sound. Ronnie ate a sandwich that Talon had made and sipped on a can of Pepsi.

"I wish people would look beyond my patches and just see me for who I am." Ronnie said as he enjoyed the cool breeze coming off the stream. "When I go around town in my Honda and dressed like this, nobody seems nervous or anything. Tattoo sleeves ain't taboo anymore."

"Nah." Talon chuckled as he tore another bite off his sandwich.

"But the moment I put my leathers on and ride my Fatboy? Then people get all nervous and hesitating. Like I'm gonna murder them or something if they look at me!" Ronnie laughed. "Being a biker is tough. You gotta look the part, act the part, and people believe the part! I'm just a guy into bikes and part of a club? Or 'gang' as the coppers call us~"

"A long reputation." Talon teased with a smirk. "I like ya just the way you are~"

"Well thank you!" Ronnie grinned. He sarcastically held up his Pepsi as if he was wanting a toast. "I think you're quite a studly fella myself."

Talon flexed a tattooed arm for him. "Heh, thanks~" Talon scooted closer and put a free arm around Ronnie and pulled him close. The two Dobers just smiled at each other and shared a tender kiss.

"I like that." Ronnie smiled.

"See? Beneath all that leather and tough guy looks, you're a nice sweet fella." Teased Talon.

"Yeah, sure." Ronnie chuckled, blushing a bit. "C'mon, you're gonna make me blush, muddafucker!"

"That's what I'm here for!" Talon laughed playfully as he gave Talon a playful nudge. "That and stud material."

"I like stud material." Ronnie smirked.

"I'd like to take this up a bit more..."

"Oh yeah?"

"There's something really special about you, Ron. You're pretty honest in how you carry yourself. And you have a good set of morals, especially for your son, juggling this lifestyle that few understand, being somewhat openly bi in a rough n' tough club."

"It's my Dad and Grandpa's legacies that have saved my graces with the club." Ronnie shrugged. "And they know I can throw down when needed!"

"You can throw me down in bed!" Talon laughed.

"Don't you tempt me!" Ronnie laughed. "I think you're funny and sexy. You're not a pretentious douchebag, of an in your face rainbow everything gay~ So I like that too."

"Maybe you'd like to be my boyfriend or something?"

Ronnie blushed up immediately. "Boyfriend eh?"

"Yeah!" Talon smiled.

"Sure." Ronnie smiled back, before leaning in to kiss Talon. "Boyfriend~"

Rolling over in bed, Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief with Talon, and shared a laugh as they came down from their bedroom escapades. Ronnie laid on his back, and felt Talon rub his tattooed chest and lay beside him.

"Fuck, that was great." Talon chuckled with a smirk.

"Yeah." Ronnie said with a smile on his face. "Your dick is fuckin' huge~"

"Yes!" Talon grinned. "Thank you!"

Ronnie laid his head on his pillow and stared up at the ceiling with a look of thought on his face. "So since...we've made this official... I just was thinking... and you... forgive me... it's been so long since I've dated, and I feel so out of place and-"

"No, no. It's fine." Talon responded with an assuring smile on his face. "I get it!"

"I got the thinking... this won't fly over well with the new club, and I just kinda gotta keep our relationship on the down low with the club members, outside of my close friends."

"I get it, no problem!" laughed the Dober. "Ron, I don't live for other people knowing about my relationships. Some people live for everyone to know about their relationships, as if it's some kind of fuel for narcissistic tendencies... but that's not me. Fuck that shit~ You do what you feel is right."

"There will be some times where I'll have to go on mandated runs, and whatnot."

"C'mon, don't over think it!" laughed Talon. "I'm easy going."

"I just... wanted to make sure."

"Well thank you for caring!"

Ronnie rolled over onto his side, so he could look at Talon's face. "God you're hot. I feel so lucky after everything that had happened."

"I feel lucky too. I've had shitty boyfriends and a girlfriend who tried to kill herself and our daughter... so please don't do that."

"Well I'm not a girl, so...."

"HA!" Talon laughed.

"Just saying!"

"Well since this our first day of being official... lemme break the ice on something..."

Talon lifted his leg and farted. Ronnie grimaced to the loud wet fart ripped from his boyfriend, who gave him a shit eating grin in return. "There's your first relationship fart!"

Ronnie laughed. "Do you fuckin' feel better?"

"Fuck yeah, dude!"

"You better check your fuckin' drawers."

"Drawers? More like check your fuckin' sheets, motherfucker." Laughed Talon, who pulled Ronnie into his arms for a cuddle session. Ronnie laughed and smiled, and enjoyed Talon's warmth as he nuzzled his chest and closed his eyes to savor it.

"God, you stink~ But you're hot, so that's okay."

"Good." Talon chuckled. He gently stroked Ronnie's hair and kissed the top of his head as they laid in bed together, savoring each other's warmth.

Glancing out the window of his living room, Ronnie thought it looked hot and miserable outside. July brought a huge heat wave to the area, a suffocating, wet heat that fueled afternoon thunderstorms that rumbled through in the mornings and evenings, only to make the heat even worse. It was almost noon, and the mercury was hovering near one hundred. In the living room, Colt sat on the couch watching cartoons, and Ronnie waited on his printer to finish printing a portrait from his recent biker run with his friends. He had spent the first week of July out in South Dakota with his chapter and the Akron and Cleveland chapters for a large run. He finally got to ride with the future chapter he was wanting to join.

The printer finally spat out the finished print, which Ronnie gingerly picked up and waved around to speed the ink drying. He held it out and smiled; on the glossy photo paper was a picture of himself and Colt riding on their way back to Ohio. Colt looked super excited, holding onto his Dad with a big grin towards the camera. The background was beautifully blurred by motion. The Doberman took it over and placed it in a frame to hang up on the wall. He carried it over and hung it up next to a picture of his late Dad. Ronnie couldn't help but chuckle at the photo of his father, a hammy Lifetouch portrait of the late David Samson. It was a head and shoulders shot of his dad, who wore his leather vest over a beige sweater with a purple background. He was in his early forties in the portrait, and his long hair was still coal black. He had a happy look on his face. His father always hated that portrait. He thought it made him look dorky. It was one of the reasons why Ronnie loved it so much.

Next to his father's portrait was a picture Ronnie had taken of his late girlfriend, who sat on the couch holding an infant Colt. Ronnie's smile started to fade as he began to miss her. Now he had Talon to plug that empty void in his heart.

Colt turned the TV off and hopped off the couch. "What do you want to do today, Dad?"

"Well...hmm!" Ronnie pondered. "It's very hot outside."

"Yes, very." Colt frowned. "It's too hot to play with Colby."

Ronnie walked back to his desk and picked his phone up. He sent a text to Talon, to see what his boyfriend was up to. A few minutes later, he got a text back from Talon, followed by a minute later a text from Cyrus, inviting them to go swimming at Cy's pond. "Wanna go swimming, Colty?"

"Yeah!"

Packing a bag with their clothes, Ronnie and Colt took the truck to head out to Hanover. Hopping onto the highway, Ronnie put his foot on the gas and climbed the on ramp, merging with traffic to settle down for the cruise east.

"You've been seeing that Talon fella a lot lately!" Colt mentioned as he watched the scenery from the window.

"Well yeah, he's my boyfriend~" Ronnie said with a smile on his face.

"Boyfriend? Like... how Mom was your girlfriend?"

"Yeah! Basically!"

"But Talon's a boy!"

"Well Colty... sometimes people fall in love like that. Sometimes men fall in love with a woman... sometimes a man falls in love with another man, or a woman loves another woman! It's just the way it happens for people sometimes. Love is all the same."

"Huh...okay!" Colt shrugged with a smile. "I like girls!"

"Just pick one that's not nuts." Laughed Ronnie. "I'll tell you more when you're older!"

"Okay!"

Making their way to Cyrus' abode, Ronnie and Colt joined up with Talon and his daughter Emily, Cyrus and Ben, Marty and Jason, with Jason's daughter Megan, and Ed Filton with his wife and kids. They escaped from the heat in Cy's cool spring fed pond. Ronnie had a good time and helped Colt stay afloat with his water wings shoved onto his arms. Ronnie continued to show Colt how to swim, along with the other kids who watched. Ronnie did a backstroke and enjoyed himself as he swam around the pond with Talon. After an hour or so of swimming, everyone retreated to the shade of the large maple by the pond. Ronnie laid in the grass with his head on Talon's lap, while Colt and all the kids sat around in the shade playing and petting Cy's wood ducks that enjoyed the attention.

Ronnie laughed and looked up to smile at his boyfriend, who gently stroked Ronnie's messy long hair. Their relationship was still young, but Ronnie felt like he had reached cloud nine with Talon. They saw each other frequently, on the weekends, and during the week when Talon did landscaping around town. The beefy Dober filled the weird, empty void in Ronnie's heart after Misty died. All the random hookups could never fill the void like Talon did. It also felt a bit different being more open about his bisexuality. Dating a man felt different than all the past girlfriends that he had. While he was open with his friends about being bi, it was still a rather "open secret", a "don't ask don't tell" scenario in the club. It was just the way it had to be for the lifestyle that he wanted.

"So Marty, what kinds of cool stories do you have when you ran around with the Angels?" Ronnie asked curiously.

"Well I mean, I did all the runs, charities, shit like that. I stayed far away from the criminal shit, for my wife's sake." Marty recalled. "I think the only unethical thing I did was me and the guys beat the shit out of a couple people who deserved it, and chased Ben's Dad here."

"What the hell did he do?"

"Bill used to work at our dealership, and he stole a set of tires for his truck, and Ed was pissed off about it. So instead of firing him, Ed asked me and the guys to chase Bill, so we did so, for about twenty miles!"

"Wow."

"Yeah, Bill got chased by like... a hundred Hells Angels?" Marty laughed. "I loved it. Bill was a fucking retard anyways. Sorry Ben."

The husky just shrugged in response.

"Bill is Ben's late father."

"Ohh." Ronnie nodded.

"I think the only questionable thing I did was take a huge paper sack full of money to the bank." Marty recalled with a chuckle. "I didn't ask any questions! The scribe gave it to me and told me to put in the bank, and that's what I did... At least ten grand in cash."

"What about you?" Jason asked.

"I'm a red and white for the bikes and the lifestyle. I can't afford the criminal shit, not for my son's sake." Ronnie mentioned as he glanced over to see Colt sitting and petting one of Cy's ducks. "I got too much to lose."

"Federal prison sucks!" Cyrus exclaimed.

"Yeah! Kinda!" Ronnie laughed. "My Dad told me that if I fucked up, he'd beat my ass. And I believed him!"

"Uhh yeah... Ronnie... your Dad sent like half a dozen people to the hospital in that huge brawl." Marty laughed.

"See? That's so amazing to hear, because my Dad was one of the most mild mannered people you could think of for being an outlaw biker, har, har. My Dad never got angry, he was calm all the time. He'd help anyone if they needed help. He was my best friend in life, and he had to die so soon."

"That's how she goes sadly." Marty nodded. "I had a best friend in our chapter, and he was shot and killed in a dispute around mid ninety-nine. That hurt. One minute you're riding with them, having a good time, laughing over some beers, and then they're gone."

"Sad." Ronnie nodded. "You ever hear from your chapter?"

"A few guys, we still stay in touch. There was uhh, some falling out when I came out." Marty admitted. "But some of the guys are cool. Once in a while, a few show up to visit."

"Ahh." Ronnie responded.

"Hey Talon, ain't your crazy sister dating an Oiler or something?"

"An Oiler?" Ronnie asked.

"Dex the pill pushin' Oiler." Laughed Talon cynically. "Yes."

"Who the fuck is an Oiler?" Ronnie asked with a snort.

"Rival biker gang, from around the Youngstown area." Marty explained. "They have a clubhouse in Youngstown, and some presence in the greater Columbus area. "Think they're tough shit!"

"Nothin's tougher than the red and whites!" laughed Ronnie.

"Fuck yeah! Angels Forever! Forever Angels!"

"Yeah!" the Dober exclaimed.

Talon chuckled as he stroked Ronnie's hair. "My sister will date and fuck anything if they feed her habit. It's sad. And that motherfucker is a piece of shit."

"Addiction is awful." Jason frowned.

"Yeah, major drag..." Ronnie frowned as well.

"I don't know who would fuck Allison... just like my wonky ass sister Miranda!" Marty exclaimed.

"Marty made his sister cry yesterday..." Jason rolled his eyes with a chuckle.

"How?" Ben asked.

Marty shrugged. "Miranda wanted to be a bitch to me, so I compared her face to the moon Miranda!"

"Of Uranus?" Cyrus asked.

"Yeah!" the older Dober exclaimed. "Her face looks like that wonky-ass moon!"

"I guess the truth does hurt..." Jason shook his head with a cynical laugh.

"What a hot mess." Chuckled Talon.

"That's how you like 'em." Ronnie smiled as he looked up at Talon.

"Talkin' about yourself huh there, Ronno?"

"HEY!" laughed Ronnie. "Muddafucker listen here!"

Talon just grinned and laughed. "You're funny, Ronnie."

"I never thought I'd find myself a boyfriend." Ronnie admitted to his friends. "It's crazy. I had a boyfriend when I first came out to my Dad. He was a really sweet, kinda slightly femme guy, but he was so sweet, and wasn't a total caddy bitch about everything like a lot of gay guys are. I always felt more comfortable dating women, because they didn't constantly have issue with things like my hair... my tattoos... or making sure one's... what the fuck is the term? Height...weight proportional? Fucking bullshit stuff like that."

"Yeah, we're kind of our own worst enemies..." Talon shrugged. "Here we are... a persecuted minority... and we treat our own like shit."

"Silly isn't it?" Cyrus laughed. "I remember I banged with this dude in Dayton... and it was a great fuck! When we were done, he grabbed all my clothes, threw them at me, and told me to fuck off. Completely threw me off at the aboutface."

"See? That's what people do." Ronnie rolled his eyes. "That's why I appreciate Talon so much... because he's just... laid back? He isn't uptight..."

"And he's got tattoo sleeves and likes fart jokes!" Cyrus grinned big.

"Hell yeah!" Talon laughed. "The only thing tight is my butthole!"

Ronnie blushed a bit. "True~" He got up and felt Talon put his arms around him, pulling him close for a snug.

"You're so much different~" Ronnie smiled.

"That's 'cause you never got yourself a big ole' country boy, huh!" Talon laughed as he gave Ronnie a kiss. The Dober blushed big in front of all his friends, who laughed and thought the gesture was cute.

After hanging out with friends, Ronnie and Colt went back home to get cleaned up for their evening plans. Ronnie made a dessert and hopped into the Civic to return back to Hanover, to have dinner with Talon's family. It was an uneventful ride back into Hanover, as Ronnie followed his GPS to the Bradley residence. Interestingly enough, Dale and his wife Barbara lived on the same street as Marty and Jason, a few houses up by the intersection.

Hopping out, Ronnie took his foil wrapped dessert bowl from Colt, and they both walked up to the front porch, where Colt rang the doorbell. The door swung open to reveal Talon's older brother, Josh, who looked like a clone of him. Ronnie and Colt stepped inside to see everyone getting the table ready. Josh had his wife and kids with him, and Talon's sister, Beverly, had her boyfriend and their son.

"Hello!" Ronnie greeted.

"Hello Mister Bradley!" Colt waved with a smile on his face.

"Hello!" greeted Dale. "Here! Let me take that, Ron."

"Thanks~"

"How's everyone?"

"Good." Ronnie smiled. "This is a really nice place you have here!"

"Lot's of love and labor over the years." Dale explained with a laugh. "Blood, sweat, and tears! Lots of blood!"

Ronnie gulped.

"Where is Allison at?" Barbara asked as she sat some plates on the table.

"Probably fucked up on drugs!" laughed Beverly, Talon's youngest sibling.

"Probably not that far from the truth..." Barbara frowned.

"I hope to god that scumbag boyfriend of her's don't fucking show up, Barb, or I'll-"

"Dale! Dale! Don't! It's not worth it!"

"That sonofabitch is ruining my daughter!"

"So did all the other boyfriends, Dale! Let it be! Jesus Christ, we don't need another lawsuit!" Barbara exclaimed. "You and that shovel..."

"You better believe it!" Dale pointed. "I'll dig that motherfucker's grave!"

"Okay, easy there, Rob Barion..." Talon chuckled with a grin. "Oh hey sexy!"

"Well hey again~" Ronnie smiled. He got a friendly kiss from his boyfriend as he hugged him.

"Whacha make, Ronnie?"

"Oh, a fruit salad." Laughed the Dober. "IT'S NOT AMBROSIA!"

"Fuckin' senior citizen food over here!" laughed Talon.

"This is the fruit salad I created for the Corral!" Ronnie exclaimed.

"What the fuck are you doin' selling fruit salad at a fucking biker bar?" Talon teased. Ronnie just chuckled and shook his head.

"You know what? Fuck it! Let's just start dinner, or else we'll be waiting half the night for dum-dum to show up!" Dale exclaimed.

Ronnie and Colt sat down at the dinner table and dug in with everyone. Ronnie sat back and observed the close knit structure of Talon's family, finding it a strange contrast to the complete absence with the Samson family.

"Ron, Talon tells me you're a Hells Angel?" Dale asked him.

"Yeah. I am." Ronnie nodded.

Dale glanced over at him. "You don't strike me like the piece of shit boyfriend my daughter's dating... You look like a step above."

"Well I try and be a step above a piece of shit. I like to be the next step- societal degenerate!" Ronnie joked. He glanced over and grimaced at Talon.

"Ha, that's pretty funny." Dale joked. It made Ronnie breathe a sigh of relief. "The first time I met you, you looked like a nice Jewish boy!"

Ronnie almost spat his drink out. "Well... Dale... that's quite a compliment..."

"I'm sure you know my neighbor Marty down the street, since he's friends with my son, and he's a former H-A himself. Him and his buddies used to come through town, and they were a bunch of loud, stupid fucks sometimes. But you. You're quiet and mild mannered it seems to me. You don't strike me as a stereotypical outlaw... Plus you have a real wonderful little son there~"

"Thanks!" Colt exclaimed.

"Well...I'm just me. I'm just... who I am." Ronnie shrugged. "I don't cause trouble until people want trouble."

"Well that's good. 'Cause I wanna feed a bunch of ya, like ALLISON'S BOYFRIEND! To Jerry's hogs!"

"Just make sure you pull the teeth out, Dad~" Talon laughed morbidly.

"Oh boy." Laughed Ronnie.

"So tell me about yourself, Ron?" Barbara asked.

"Well... I'm thirty-one, and I'm originally from Chicago. Born in Queens, moved to Chicago when I was four, so to me that's home."

"How the hell did you end up here?" Dale asked.

"Well I happened to meet someone from around here, who offered me a job, and I took it, and they helped me move here." Ronnie explained. "I've been in kind of a rut for the past five years. I used to have a band, and then that kinda crashed and burned, literally... and then I lost my grandpa, my girlfriend, my Dad... a bunch of just bad shit. So now I'm trying to claw my way back."

"That's tough, Ron. That's tough." Dale nodded.

"A band, eh?" Josh asked.

"Yeah! I was the lead singer, and acoustic guitarist for a rock band called Hard Times."

"Ah."

"We were at the cusp of success. And then our drummer and some of our engineers got killed in a plane crash... and it all came crashing on down."

"Wow." Josh muttered.

"Yeah... major drag."

"I didn't think I'd ever meet a gay biker." Josh teased as he smirked at Talon.

"Bi~" Ronnie chuckled. "That's me."

"Don't stick your dick in crazy!" Talon exclaimed.

Ronnie glanced over at Talon and smirked.

"You know all about that huh?" Josh laughed.

Talon looked over and smiled at his daughter. "But I wouldn't have it any other way~"

Before Ronnie could comment, he heard the sound of a motorcycle. A very deep, loud roar filled the living room as Josh got up to peer out the window.

"Oh god... look what the cat fucking dragged in, Dad..."

"Oh boy..." Dale muttered.

Ronnie and everyone got up to rush to the front door. Dale stepped outside to find Allison on the back of a menacing black Fatboy, ridden by her boyfriend, a burly Rottweiler. The Rott wore all black leathers with his colors patched on the back. Ronnie poked his head out to see for the first time, an Oiler. Much like his own patches, that Rott was a three-piecer; "OILERS" was written in an arch above their logo, which was a punisher like skull with pistons for the crossbones, and "OHIO" written beneath it. He also had an "MC" patch and a "1%" patch too stitched onto his vest.

"Allison!" Dale called. He watched his daughter struggle to get off the bike. She was clearly messed up on something. Ronnie made note of Allison; she was thirty-nine years old according to Talon, but she looked like she was nearly sixty. Her face bore the effects of drug abuse. Noticeable wrinkles adorned her forehead, and pink baggy eyes stared out soullessly. Her brown hair was unflatteringly tied back into a scalp tight ponytail, and she wore short shorts and a tanktop that did nothing to flatter her pencil thin arms and legs.

"Hey Dale!" grinned the Rott smugly. "How's it going?"

"It's MISTER BRADLEY to you, fuckin' scumbag!" Dale hissed.

"Scumbag? That's kind of mean don't you think?" chuckled the biker, who doffed his goggles atop his head.

"Look what you're doing to my fuckin' daughter!" Dale pointed.

"Hey I found her as-is." He laughed. Dale just ground his teeth as his rage surged.

"Listen here Tyler... I swear to god..."

The biker scanned the Bradley, and saw Ronnie as the new face. His eyes immediately noticed the tanktop that Ronnie was wearing, which bore the Hells Angels name on it.

"What the fuck is this?" the biker pointed. "A Hells Angel?"

"Who the fuck are you?" Ronnie asked.

"The fuck you doin' on Oiler turf, motherfucker?"

The biker climbed onto the porch to grab Ronnie by the collar of this tanktop, only to be shoved back by Ronnie. The biker fell down the small set of steps and landed on the ground. Just as this happened, Allison tried to get off the bike, only to trip and faceplant onto the driveway.

"Oh my god..." Beverly exclaimed as she ran down to grab Allison, only to be shoved away by Tyler the biker. Ronnie immediately jumped down to stop him.

"HEY! Get your fucking mitts off her!" Ronnie shouted. The Dober jumped off the porch and shoved the biker away from Beverly. "Fuckin' oil fag!"

Tyler tried to punch Ronnie with a fast swing, only for the Dober to dodge it and crack a punch across his face. Tyler grabbed a knife from his waist and swung at Ronnie, the blade making a "whoosh" through the air. Ronnie backed away, only to feel himself suddenly get shoved into Talon by Dale. Ronnie's vision was blinded by his hair getting in his face momentarily, but he saw out of the corner of his eye, Dale hit Tyler across the head with a shovel. It knocked the Rottweiler to the ground, and Dale kicked the knife away.

"STOP!" Josh yelled. He aimed a 12 gauge at Tyler, who stumbled onto his butt. "GET OUTTA HERE!"

Tyler got up, brushed himself off and grabbed his bike. He pointed at Ronnie. "You are fucked."

"I'd love to see you try..." Ronnie glared.

"GET THE FUCK OUTTA HERE!" Dale yelled.

Tyler hopped on his bike, fired it up and peeled out with a terrific roar. Ronnie stood with Talon's family on the front lawn watching him escape. Dale soon turned his attention to his daughter as he ran over to tend to her.

"Allison, oh my baby... why can't you break this habit?" Dale said with an exasperated sigh. His angry tone became one with great sadness as he checked her over on the front lawn.

"Dad, I don't have a problem..." Allison grunted, her words slightly slurred.

"You don't have a problem?" Dale asked her. "You just faceplanted off a bike."

"I don't have a fucking problem!" Allison protested louder. She tried to get up, but only managed to stagger a few feet before faceplanting the yard again.

"C'mon, let's get you to the hospital again..." Dale rolled his eyes with a sigh. "Ron, I'm sorry that dinner got interrupted and you got attacked..."

"Eh, it's just part of the territory." Ronnie shrugged it off. "I can take care of myself."

Ronnie felt Talon put his arms around him as they watched Dale help his daughter into his car. Barbara hopped in the backseat with Allison, as Dale quickly backed out and sped off.

Wishing Colt a good night, Ronnie shut the light off to his room and closed the door gently. Walking to his bedroom, he saw Talon give a good night kiss to his daughter, who slept in the spare bedroom when they visited. Talon soon joined him in their bedroom as they unfound for an early bedtime.

"Getting old sucks." Talon chuckled as he took his shirt off and adjusted his black tanktop beneath.

"Ha, yeah." Ronnie chuckled. "Early to bed. Early to rise!"

The Dober ran his paws through his long hair and gave it a shake as he sat down on his bed and stretched.

"Ronnie I'm sorry you had to get into a fight..." Talon said with a frown. Ronnie just brushed it off with a smile.

"I'm more sad to see your sister." Ronnie admitted. "Allison needs help."

"I don't know what it's going to take." Talon rolled his eyes. "Three times in rehab, tens of thousands of dollars spent, and nothing, right back to square one. Same shitty friends, same bad decisions. Every single time!"

"Just like Misty..." Ronnie frowned. He laid out in bed and reached over to turn the lamp off. The pale blue moon light filtered in through the bedroom window, the walls taking on the faint glow with the striping from the blinds. Talon laid on his side and gently stroked Ronnie's arm as he listened to him.

"I kept telling Misty that if she didn't stop with the heroin, she'd die. And she'd always say she never had a problem... knew her limits. Blah, blah, blah. And I kept saying one of these days it'll get ya. And yeah, sure enough."

"That's why I'm surprised Allison is still alive. Brought into the ER twice completely dead and revived. One OD, it took eight doses of narcan. She takes enough drugs to kill an elephant and somehow she does an Ozzy Osbourne and lives to tell about it..." Talon shook his head. "That's why she's hanging out now with those Oilers, because they keep her fix going."

"I hate that some of my fellow Angels dabble in that shit. But to each their own I guess." Ronnie grumbled. "It's the dark side of freedom and rejection of society."

"I get what you're saying~" Talon nodded.

"It's crazy to think that Misty died three years ago." Ronnie remarked. "Seems so long ago, in the Covid era."

"Fascist takeover era too." Talon chuckled.

"That too." Ronnie laughed. "People unhappy with one system decide to replace it with a just as scary alternative!"

"Yeah!" laughed Talon with a sarcastic head shake.

"I hope you don't mind talking about my former girlfriend... I know some people don't want to hear about their past lovers."

"I don't mind at all." Talon smiled. "I can tell that you really loved her~"

"I did!" Ronnie exclaimed. He rolled his blue eyes. "People thought Misty was just some fuck toy of mine. No, I really genuinely loved her. We met when our first album took off. We were at a party, and a bunch of groupies wanted to bang, so all of us took 'em back to our rooms and fucked! That's how I met Misty. But there was something so nice about her. She was so sweet and kind... she had her whole life ahead of her. I got her weaned off drugs when we found out she was pregnant, and I worked very hard to keep her clean. She was a very good mom to Colt. But when things went horribly wrong and the band fell apart, the money stopped flowing... she relapsed back into that heroin shit. And she died... in the parking lot of her workplace. Her Dad called me and told me about it. I was so devastated. I balled my fucking eyes out. And her family never spoke to me again. Never spoke to Colt either."

"How could anyone do that?"

"I don't know." Ronnie shrugged. "Someone who was kind, funny, smart... and she threw her life away."

"You just couldn't get a break could you?" Talon frowned. He reached his arms out to pull Ronnie into his arms.

"It was like one after another for almost five years..." Ronnie sighed as he put his head into Talon's tattooed chest. "Eddy, Lisa, and Sam died in the plane crash, our band went away, and then my Grandpa died, then Misty, and then my Dad... I was so afraid last year that Colt was going to be next. I dreaded every phone call at work, because I was afraid Colt was going to somehow die. It was such a terrible feeling to hold in my heart."

"Think of how far you've made it from near rock bottom in the few months here!" Talon smiled as he rubbed Ronnie's backside.

"Sometimes it feels like a dream- is this really happening?" Ronnie remarked. "I can't believe it. I was discovered and by chance this all happened because of someone's generosity."

"That's how she goes! Not what you know, but who you know!"

"Yeah! Apparently so!"

Talon chuckled. "I wish Allison could meet people who had smarter IQ's so she wouldn't keep fucking her life up~ One of these days, I'll get the call that she was found dead somewhere. Anyone I just... I have a cynical feeling thinking about her. You just kind of mourn ahead of time... Dad gets so upset about it. He can't keep sinking money into her!"

"Sinking money into her... what is she, a fucking car?" Ronnie asked as he choked up with laughter. "Sink money into her!?"

"Hey!" Talon laughed sardonically. "How else can I word it!"

"Only you can come up with that~" Ronnie chuckled. The Dober yawned and blinked his eyes a few times. "I think it's time for bed~"

"Heh, yeah, I agree."

Ronnie and Talon shared a kiss, before Ronnie rolled over onto his side to fall asleep. Talon pulled him close and draped an arm around him. Ronnie smiled a bit and dozed off into a deep, content sleep.

Grabbing a Blondie LP from his record shelf, Ronnie pulled out the black vinyl record and sat it on his player. He gently sat the needle down and listened to the crackle on his surround sound speakers as he sat back down at his desk. The song "I'm always touched by your presence, dear" started to play. The Dober began to relax after work with some music and a cold beer from the fridge. He grabbed a pen and started jotting more ideas down in his notepad for his EP, and checked some messages from his friends back home.

Thinking about his EP, Ronnie took some inspiration from some of his LP's. He had originally thought about doing it with the Hard Times sound; a fusion of eighties rock and metal sound. But the more he thought about it, he wanted it to show a more variety of his musical talents and tastes, rather than just another "generic rock album." He liked the new wave sound of Blondie, and wanted to combine some of that. "I'm always touched by your presence, dear" caught Ronnie's attention as he listened to it. It made him think about his late girlfriend. Perhaps he thought, he could make the EP a small story of the trials and tribulations of the past five years? Ronnie jotted that down on his notepad.

Yawning big, Ronnie leaned back in his chair as the second song started. A thought had come to him and he leaned forward to jot it down when suddenly, the back door came exploding open. Little Colt came bursting in, looking panicked and frightened as he bolted inside. The slam of the screen door caught Ronnie's attention immediately.

"DAD! DAD!" Colt screamed. The young Dober's eyes were as wide as saucer plates.

"What's going on? What happened?" Ronnie asked. He got up and froze when he suddenly heard a very loud gunshot go off outside.

"Bruce is here! Colby's Dad is here!" Colt yelled.

"Oh no..." Ronnie muttered. "Colty! You go grab the phone and call 9-1-1 for me okay? Tell them Bruce is attacking your friend's Mom! Okay?"

"Okay! What about you?"

"I gotta stop him!"

"Dad! You're in danger!"

"Colty! Go call for the police! Lock the front door!"

"Okay!"

Ronnie bolted out the back door and quietly slipped over the fence. He heard a bunch of screaming and a bunch of shuffling, followed by another loud gunshot blast, with Mindy screaming in terror. The Doberman didn't quite know what he could do, but he knew he had to do something.

Finding the back door to the Mathesons' home unlocked, Ronnie slipped inside to find himself in the laundry room. He spotted Colby's baseball bat, propped up by the corner. Ronnie quietly grabbed the wooden bat as he listened to Bruce and Mindy scream at each other.

"YOU TOOK MY FUCKING SON AWAY!" Bruce yelled. His voice sounded desperate and slightly slurred.

"Bruce! Stop it! You're terrifying Colby!"

"He's terrified because you TOOK HIM AWAY FROM ME!" Bruce screamed again.

"STOP IT!" Greg and Kathy pleaded. "STOP IT RIGHT NOW GOD DAMNIT!"

BOOM!

Ronnie flinched from the loud recoil of another gun blast, which followed by the sound of pieces of the ceiling collapsing onto the floor. Ronnie recognized the sound as a .44 Magnum.

"I'll fucking kill all of you right now!" Bruce yelled. "Colby! It's okay! It's just your Dad!"

"You're gonna kill everyone, Bruce!" Greg pleaded.

"If I can't have him! No one can!"

Ronnie peered around the corner of the laundry room to see Bruce standing right at the doorway, maybe fifteen feet away. He was an overweight black wolf, with a tousled mop of hair, and a wild, psychotic face. He wielded a huge revolver in his grip. He was distracted by all the back and forth between him and Mindy. Ronnie tightened the grip on his bat, and the Doberman charged forward as fast as he could, his footsteps muffled by Bruce screaming.

Ronnie screamed as he raised the bat. As hard as he could, he struck Bruce right on the wrists, just as he aimed his gun at Greg. The impact was hard enough that it broke both the wolf's wrists, and the gun went off with a terrific blast that blew a hole in the fireplace brick. Ronnie swung and struck Bruce in the head with the bat, knocking him to the floor.

"Oh my god!" Mindy yelled.

Greg and Kathy jumped up and threw themselves on Bruce as Ronnie knocked the gun away from him.

"Oh my god, are you guys alright!?" Ronnie shouted.

"Yeah, yeah..." Greg said, all shook up. "Mindy! Call the cops!"

"He's out fuckin cold..." Ronnie remarked. "Jesus Christ dude... what the fuck's your malfunction!"

Within minutes, the Newark Police came rushing up, and the Mathesons' home became an instant crime scene. Unsurprisingly, Ronnie's Hells Angels t-shirt brought heat upon him, and he was promptly put in cuffs and led to a cruiser, while Colt watched from the front window of his house. Bruce, rendered unconscious and facing a severe head injury, was tended to by paramedics, who worked in the living room to assess his injuries. Mindy stood outside with Colby, talking to the police.

Running out from the front door, Colt tried to get to his dad, only to be stopped by a police officer.

"No! No! I can't let you!" the cop said, grabbing Colt and picking him up off his feet.

"That's my Dad! That's my Dad!" Colt protested. "He saved their lives! He saved my best friend!"

"I want you to go back into your house and wait!" the cop said as he carried Colt back. He sat Colt onto the porch, and the young Doberman ran inside the house to grab the phone and call for help.

Greg and Kathy talked to detectives not far away from their daughter. The detective took notes down on a pad of paper and told Greg and Kathy to fill out statements for the investigation.

"What's going on with my neighbor? Why do you have him in cuffs?" Greg asked, looking annoyed.

"Your neighbor is a member of an infamous biker gang." The detective said as he stowed his notepad away. "We're going to charge him with felonious assault with a weapon in regards to-"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean!? He saved our lives!" Greg protested. "Bruce is the one who deserves to be charged!"

"That's not your say." The detective hissed. "That gentleman, guilty or not, has a very serious head injury that could permanently affect his health."

"That gentleman fired a fucking gun at me!" Greg yelled. The normally mild mannered, aging gray wolf, looked even more animated as he pointed. "My neighbor came and saved all of our lives! It doesn't matter if he's a damn Hells Angel or not!"

"I think we're done talking, sir."

"This is absolute bullshit!" Kathy yelled. "You're treating Psycho Bruce nicer than our neighbor, Ron, because he's a biker!"

"Ron moved here two months ago, and in those two months, we've had zero issues or concerns with him. He's a very considerate, polite, young man!"

"Uh-huh. Yeah. That's what they want you to think!" The detective laughed as he turned to walk away.

Greg looked so upset that he started to march towards the callous detective, only to be stopped by Kathy. They both watched as Bruce was carried out on a stretcher. His head was covered in bloody gauze, and he was intubated by the paramedics as he was wheeled to the waiting ambulance.

Ronnie sat in the back of the cruiser, his paws handcuffed behind his back. He kept his head low and just looked at the ground, feeling frustrated by being in such a situation that wasn't his fault. Once again, he was the target of police harassment because of his association.

"Now I wanna ask you a couple questions!" laughed the detective in a mocking way. He grabbed Ronnie by his hair and yanked his head up to look at him.

"Gentle on the hair!" Ronnie protested.

"I don't think you're in any position to tell me what to do!" laughed the German Shepherd. "Fuckin' Hells Angels, fuckin' low life biker scum."

"Pfft. Don't talk about yourself." Mocked Ronnie with a defiant smirk.

"You do realize I could nail you on a felonious assault charge and put you behind bars for a decade and take your kid away!"

"For stopping someone from killing my neighbor? I think you got the wrong guy!" Ronnie shook his head.

Before the detective could retort, he looked up to see a red Tahoe screeching up. Ronnie looked over to seeing Rob Barion come emerging out with Varg Eikemo. From the backseat of the Tahoe, came two other figures, who wore police like uniforms. A large black and rust Doberman, and a menacing looking German Shepherd followed with Rob, both armed with AK-103's.

Despite police warnings, Rob marched right up to where Ronnie was at. "Take the fucking cuffs off and let him go right away. He's with me."

Ronnie watched the detective try and argue with Rob, but the threat of a lawsuit seemed to surprisingly work. Ronnie was brought out of the cruiser, and uncuffed. He grabbed and rubbed both his wrists slowly as Rob put him behind him.

"Once again, you fuckin' clowns fuck up another incident." Rob scolded. "Go after the low hangin' fruit huh? Because he's a biker, and you pigs can go and brag about doing the city a favor, when you let so much other shit go? Take a fuckin' hike. Beat it."

After a momentary, tense standoff, Ronnie was released with just a request to fill out a statement. The threat of felonious assault was never brought up again. Soon it was quiet again, and the police presence departed.

Colt burst out from the front door and ran over to hug his Dad tightly.

"Dad! Dad! Are you okay?"

"Yeah! I'm okay, son." Ronnie smiled. He gave his son a tight hug.

"I thought you were going to jail!" Colt exclaimed.

"Naw, you can't go to jail for no crime!" laughed the Doberman.

"What happened to Bruce?"

"Well he won't be bothering your friend any time soon." Ronnie chuckled. "I taught him a lesson."

"Good!" Colt giggled.

"Hopefully." Ronnie grimaced as he looked at Rob and Varg. "C'mon, let's go back inside."

Feeling mentally exhausted, Ronnie retreated back inside with his son. As he locked the front door, Ronnie felt his knees buckle, and he turned and slid down the door to the ground. Looking shook up from the ordeal, Ronnie sat on the floor looking dumbfounded. Colt ran over to check on his Dad.

"Dad are you okay?" Colt asked with concern in his soft voice. The young Dober knelt down to try and help his Dad up.

"That was wild." Ronnie admitted as he pulled Colt into a hug. Colt put his arms around his Dad and hugged him tightly.

"It's going to be okay, Dad!" Colt smiled as he kissed his forehead.

Feeling shaken up from what had happened yesterday, Ronnie took the day off. As the morning sun filtered through the living room windows, a visibly tired Ronnie worked on his statement for the police. Sitting at his desk, bloodshot eyes struggled to focus as he wrote down what he witnessed and what he did to protect his neighbors. He flipped the page over and wrote a long gripe about how he was treated by the police. He scribbled his signature down and threw the pen back into the cup on his desk.

Yawning big, the Dober had a terrible night of sleep. Checking the clock again, Ronnie got up and dragged himself back to his bed. He threw himself into his messy bed and quickly fell back asleep. A few minutes later, Colt quietly stepped back inside, saw his Dad lying in bed uncovered, and gently covered him back up with the blanket. Colt grabbed a book from his room and crawled into the space next to his Dad and laid in bed reading his book while Ronnie slept.

A few hours later, a less tired Ronnie emerged from his house, dressed in his leathers. He shoved his helmet on, over his bandanna tied atop his head, and tucked his folded statement into his vest for the ride. Right behind him came his son Colt, who wore his summer riding suit, and white helmet.

"Ronnie! Ronnie!" came Kathy, followed by Greg out the back door. They got the Dober's attention, as he stopped and walked over to the fence.

"Morning, Greg, and Kathy!" Ronnie greeted with a friendly tone. "What's up?"

"Are you okay, Ron?" Greg asked.

"I'm okay. How's everything at your place? Is Misty and Colby okay?"

"They're okay. Thank god. Misty is at a teacher's meeting, and Colby's inside." Kathy nodded.

"We're just cleaning up..." Greg shook his head. "I don't know how to thank you for stepping in and saving us."

"Bruce was going to kill all of us if you hadn't had stepped in." Kathy added.

"One hundred percent." Greg shook his head.

"How is Bruce?" Ronnie asked, only out of morbid curiosity.

"Well he's in serious condition apparently. Airlifted to Columbus in an ICU there. But I don't give a shit about that psychopath." Greg grunted out. "I'm upset at how the police treated you, Ron. I was very upset at how they were nicer to Bruce than to you."

Ronnie just shrugged. "It's just part of the territory."

"It's not right is what it is." Kathy shook her head. "You saved our lives, and they wanted to throw the book at you!"

"Well I mean, I did smash his head in with a baseball bat..." Ronnie quipped sarcastically. "But again, that's just the territory I have to deal with when I wear these colors."

"You've been the best neighbor we've had in seven years." Greg admitted, which surprised Ronnie.

"Oh really?"

Kathy grimaced. "There were two people before you in your house. For years, there was a little old lady who lived there until she went to a nursing home. The first couple that came in, we thought were going to be the perfect couple...

"Christian couple, two kids." Greg added. "It was fine at first, until the arguing started and it got out of control."

"They would constantly argue..." Kathy rolled her eyes. "It would spill out into the backyard, everything. And those kids were hellions!"

"Destroyed our flower garden once. It was nuts. Then they got divorced and moved. Second group was a bunch of hillbillies, and they trashed that place... loud trucks all the time, everything looked unkempt."

"Wow." Ronnie remarked.

"Someone got the home, fixed it up, and then you moved in." Kathy concluded. "We were nervous when we saw you on your bike the very first time."

"You look very menacing I must admit." Greg laughed. "But then once we got to know you... you're such a wonderful neighbor~"

"Well thank you!" Ronnie smiled. "I really appreciate you as neighbors, because I didn't know what to expect when I moved here. I... sometimes feel so alone. I don't have my family, and my friends and fellow Angels are so far away... so sitting in that police cruiser... I felt so alone in that moment."

Greg and Kathy frowned at Ronnie's comment. "You're not alone here, Ron. Because you have us as neighbors!"

"Aww, well thanks, guys!" Ronnie smiled. "I really appreciate you guys so much."

"We appreciate you too, Ron." Kathy smiled. "Well we best not keep you away from where you're heading to!"

"Heh, the police station... for my statement..." Ronnie chuckled as he patted his vest. "Wish me luck!"

"Look, if they ever give you trouble... please... we'll fight for you!" Greg exclaimed.

"I'll keep that in mind!" Ronnie grinned as he wagged a finger in agreement as he turned to walk towards his garage. "Take care Greg and Kathy!"

"Later Ron and Colt!"

Kathy and Greg watched from the fence as Ronnie and Colt took off on the loud Fatboy, it's deep, crackling rumble piercing the morning calm as they hopped onto Moull Street.

After dropping Colt back off, so he could go with his friends to get ice cream and go to the pool, Ronnie ventured off alone on his bike, to go meet up with Rob at the gun range on the north end of town. It was apparently a gun range he built for the city, with his own funds. Ronnie made his way just outside of Newark, and pulled into the gravel lot of the shooting range. It was a large field that had three massive berms flanking it in. Parking his bike under some trees for shade, Ronnie hopped off and removed his helmet. As he walked, following the sharp crack of gunfire, he adjusted his bandanna tied atop his head. He momentarily paused at the sound of automatic gunfire, the rapid ripple fire of a machine gun taking him by surprise. He was told Rob was something of a gun nut.

Walking up the path to the range, Ronnie spotted Rob and his husband doing some target practice with some rifles. Ronnie folded down his cropped ears at the explosion of gunfire, as he watched Rob rip bullets downrange with some kind of AK rifle. Shell casings spat out and bounced all over the table and ground.

"Hey Rob!" Ronnie shouted. "Hey!"

Rob turned around and took his hearing muffs off. "Hey Ron~"

"What's up?"

"Oh, same shit, different day." Rob remarked as he checked the chamber. He removed the magazine and sat the rifle down on the table after engaging the safety.

"How are you Joey?"

"It's going!" smiled the black and tan Dober.

Rob fumbled around with one of his AK-103's. "You said you wanted to see me regarding your music project?"

"Yeah! I, uhh, want to have my friends come and visit from Chicago, and I was wondering if you had any flights heading to and from Chicago around the sixteenth and eighteenth? And we have this idea of wanting to make a video of a four or so song setup of us covering Kiss songs to put on YouTube, and we were wondering if you could help us if you have studio time? Or if you have another idea of how we could do this..."

"Yeah, that's fine. I'll just send my Convairliner to Chicago." Rob shrugged. "And I think I have a Globemaster going there too with a freight run to the hub, so if they need a vehicle or something, I can haul it back."

"Oh sweet! They can bring their bikes!"

"Heh, whatever makes you happy." Rob chuckled with a shrug. "As for studio time. I think that can be arranged."

"Nice!" Ronnie grinned. "I appreciate it!"

"While you're here, you wanna test fire a couple select-fires?" Rob asked, pointing to his assorted AK's on the table, along with Joey's G3A4.

"Oh wow." Ronnie remarked. "Sure! I've been thinking more about getting a gun...after what had happened yesterday."

"They're good policy makers." Rob joked as Ronnie picked up and examined one of Rob's AK's, his blonde furniture AK-63. Rob explained a bit about the rifle, which was a Hungarian AK, and the specifics of the variant. Ronnie got a few pointers on safety, and Rob shoved his hearing muffs on Ronnie's head. The Dober loaded a magazine and ripped the charging handle back. He got into position and took aim at one of the cardboard targets down range. Squeezing the trigger, Ronnie felt the sharp kick of the recoil as he fired a three round burst, with all his shots veering off course from the kick. Rob couldn't help but laugh as he saw Ronnie struggling with the recoil impulse.

"Spray n' pray." Rob joked. "If you've never shot an automatic weapon it's kind of a new experience."

"I can see that..." Ronnie remarked with a grimace.

Handing the AK over to Rob, the wolf-hybrid casually put it up to his shoulder and let loose with a twenty round burst. Ronnie stared blankly as Rob held firm and put all of his twenty rounds pretty much on target. Dust kicked up everywhere.

"Just takes time." Rob shrugged.

Ronnie got a chance to fire Joey's huge G3, which kicked like a mule when he tried to fire an automatic burst. He found more enjoyment just plinking with it in semi-automatic mode. After firing some guns, Ronnie joined Rob and Joey in the shade at a picnic table, to enjoy a lunch they had brought with them. He got to eat a sandwich with some chips and a bottle of fruit punch.

"So what exactly is your idea?" Rob asked Ronnie. "You and your bandmates want to make a long video?"

"Since we now have our band rights back from Carson, we thought it'd be neat to go back to our roots, since we started doing Kiss covers, and do a four or five song lineup live on camera to put online."

"Hmm." Rob mumbled. "Sounds interesting. I'm not really a music guy. That's more of Varg's side of things. I am the broadcast engineer, who does the visuals. That's my field. So you guys work out your idea, and then I'll videotape it and give you a digitized copy."

"What's your plans for the future with the band?" Joey asked.

"Well I don't think we'll ever really tour again because we all have established careers now. And that shit's brutal." Ronnie admitted. "Hours and hours together in a cramped van traveling around. It was at times a fucking nightmare. I think we'll make music still, but that'll be it. Heh, like the Beatles, only far less creative or famous!"

"Oh c'mon, don't say that." Joey laughed.

"The world of content distribution has changed a lot in the past two decades, so I think touring to become famous is not the only way. I think online distribution will also play a very important role." Rob explained.

"I mean, if people can make millions selling their soul on TikTok, then you guys can pull off being internet stars." Laughed Joey.

"Good point~"

"Vertical video is so dumb." Rob shook his head. "It's so stupid. Why have all this investment in wide screen, when people just shoot video vertical with these horrible pillarboxing? Might as well have stuck to four-three ratio!"

"Let's not be a luddite, Rob~" chuckled Joey with a smile.

"Social media is fucking this whole country up~" Rob grunted.

"Yeah." Ronnie said. He couldn't help but agree. "Hey, I wanted to ask you, before I forget, why did you step in when the cops wanted to arrest me yesterday?"

"Because I thought what they did was wrong." Rob shrugged. "They look at you and think you're out for trouble constantly because of your affiliation, and they prey upon that shit to make it look like they're doing something productive. I don't like the way we conduct policing in this country- it's too much 'us versus them', and cops act like they themselves are in a gang. Codes of silence, protecting other bad cops, shit like that. They should tackle real problems, not go after low hanging fruit. So when your son called me and said you got arrested protecting your neighbors? I knew I had to step in."

"Well I appreciate it~" Ronnie nodded.

Roaring into Chicago's steel blue sky, the lumbering Cloudmaster strained in the stuffy, stagnant heat of the city. Beginning its journey back to Ohio, "Stavanger" carried Ronnie and Varg with some of their engineers. It had been a hectic Friday morning; a frantic phone call from the Carson studio brought reports of a major power surge from a morning storm, which damaged some critical equipment for the studio. With tempers already flaring, there ended up being a huge argument between Varg's team and the incumbent Carson team. Ronnie ended up having another big argument with Pat, his former manager with the label. By the end of it, three people had quit and walked, and four were fired, including Pat, for insubordination and "unprofessional conduct".

Listening to the big radials burble made Ronnie doze off. Half-asleep, the Dober sat in his plush chair, listening to songs on his laptop to work on his EP idea. He felt rather burned out from the mad rush and then huge argument that broke out. Drifting off to sleep for about an hour, Ronnie was stirred awake by some turbulence. Blinking a few times, he peered out the window to see that they were somewhere over Indiana. Nothing but empty, flat, farmland passed beneath them.

Noticing that his laptop had gone into hibernation, Ronnie closed the lid and yawned. He put his headphones down, got up and stretched, and went to use the restroom near the tail of the plane. As he stepped out of the men's room, he saw Varg walking back to his office in the tail of the plane.

"How was your nap?" Varg asked with a chuckle.

"Refreshing." Chuckled Ronnie.

"Hey, I can see you for a moment?"

Ronnie followed Varg back to his office. Varg took a seat in his plush chair. He reclined himself and put his feet up on his desk.

"Sorry about the shitshow today."

"Nah, it's fine." Ronnie said, laughing it off. "People wanna fuck around, and they found out."

"It is what it is." Varg shrugged. "I do have a question for you! So you know an Adam Stein?"

"Yeah! He's one of my pals." Ronnie smiled. "He told me he was going to put an application in for the studio as one of the sound engineers because he got denied a promotion at the credit union."

"Ah." Varg nodded. He grabbed the resume off his desk and held it up. "So tell me about Adam? Is he a decent person?"

"Adam is a Hells Angel like me, yeah. He's pretty smart with electronics- in fact when we created our EP to show Carson our talents, me and him cut it together. He's always wanted to do something with music, but never really got a break. Adam has a knack for sound, and he's awesome at setting up gear."

"What's his musical talents? What does he play?"

"He's a synthesizer guru. Piano, keyboard, that's his passion, his baby, his true love. He can also play a twelve-string really well. Heh, I'm the acoustic guy, and Adam was the twelve-stringer."

"That's impressive." Varg said, sounding interested.

"That's Adam~" Ronnie chuckled.

"I'll give him a call when we get back home." Varg said as he put the paperwork back into a folder. "What do you say about your EP?"

"Well I got the idea and songs down- man, this is gonna go over like lead balloon." Laughed Ronnie in a cynical way.

"Why do you say that?" chuckled Varg.

"I've always done metal type music, hard rock shit like that. These songs are more like pop rock. Blondie? Status Quo? Ramones?"

"Hey! Nothing wrong with that!" Varg smiled as he sat up in his chair. "I used to do black metal exclusively, and then I sort of fused that with heavy metal in my solo career. Now I just do whatever, because I don't give a shit. I make music because it makes me happy. I don't have to do what the label wants, because I am my own man. So you do what you feel is right."

"These songs make me happy. And it's a change of pace. Plus they kind of tell a story, at least how I plan on sequencing them on the EP." Ronnie explained. "Like you start with the Status Quo song, 'Rockin' all over the world' which is all of us before Eddy got killed in the plane crash, and it goes to the Springsteen song 'I'm Goin' Down', Blondie's 'I'm always touched by your presence, dear'. So on and so on."

"I like it~" Varg shrugged. "That's your story. You do what you feel is right."

For the rest of the flight back to Newark, Ronnie worked on some of ideas by scribbling them down on his steno pad. He changed the lyrics to some of the songs to suit "his story". Finishing up by the time he returned to Newark in the early afternoon, Ronnie returned back to work to finish out his day in the recording studio.

Ushering in the weekend, Ronnie turned his living room into a space for a music jam session. Inviting some of his local friends over to help him with his EP, Ronnie helped set up his friend's drum set by the fireplace. He was introduced to his new friends through Varg; Xan Radabaugh, Anton Savchenko, Russ Drabek, and Shawn O'Donnell would help him with his EP.

Xan Radabaugh was a black wolf from Belgium. He was Varg's best friend, thirty-nine, and had long shiny black hair that was tied back into a ponytail. He sat on the couch, tuning up his red and white Gibson Les Paul. Anton was a burly tan and beige husky, tattooed up like Ronnie, who hailed from Ukraine. With a stubby Mohawk that was dyed blue like his goatee, the meathead husky clutched a blue Fender Stratocaster. Russ was a red Doberman who stood much taller than Ronnie. The forty year old had short black hair and a neatly trimmed goatee, and had tattoo sleeves and a chest piece. Strapped to his built frame was a five-string LTD bass. At twenty-eight, Shawn was the youngest of the group. He was a white and tan malamute with blonde hair that was tied back into a short crop ponytail. He bore a tattoo sleeve on his right arm only. Shawn sat at his drum set and tinkered around with the cymbals as he adjusted them.

Sitting in the recliner was Talon, and Colt sat in Ronnie's computer chair. Setting up their camera gear was Anton's boyfriend, Borr Eklund, his brother Marcus Barion, and Maverick Tokarev. Ronnie wanted to document his jam session for posterity and future material to work with.

With some spotlights providing extra lighting, Ronnie sat down and worked out his ideas with his friends, while his boyfriend and son watched. They went over the songs and sort of jammed to them to get a feel and sound before Ronnie worked on the lyrics. He read the lyrics off a sheet of paper while he sang them.

"Was it destiny?

I don't know yet.

Was it just by chance?

Could this be kismet?

Something in my consciousness told me you'd appear,

Now I'm always touched by your presence, dear."

Ronnie paused and laughed. "This sounds so strange since Debbie Harry sang this."

"I like it!" Xan exclaimed. "Let's do it again! I like it!"

"Yeah, it sounds good." Russ nodded.

"C'mon Ron! Show us what you're made of." Grinned Talon in the chair.

Ronnie gave the camera a smirk as he started off again.

"You can read my hand, I've got no defense.

When you sent your messages whispered loud and clear,

I am always touched by your presence, dear.

Floating pass the evidence of possibilities.

We could navigate together, psychic frequencies.

Coming into contact with outer entities.

We could entertain each one with our theosophies."

Going through the four songs he chose, Ronnie sang Steve Winwood's "Back in the High Life Again", a fitting song about his desired comeback.

"I'll be back in the high life again

All the doors I closed one time will open up again

I'll be back in the high life again

All the eyes that watched me once will smile and take me in"

"I like it!" Russ exclaimed as he jammed on his bass.

Ronnie felt more confident as he sang his four songs over again with the group. With each practice, he found his voice grow more confident as he stood up and sang with the music. Everyone looked like they had a good time as the whole house was filled with song.

The stagnant heat turned the sky a milky opaque color, as the roar of motorcycles filled the interstate. Through the merciless heat, Ronnie rode with a huge convoy of Hells Angels, making their way north on I-77 for Cleveland. Near the back, Ronnie rode with the Akron chapter, heading to Cleveland for a funeral of a fellow Angel who had passed away in a motorcycle accident. Alongside Ronnie was Marty Millis, the retired Angel, going to see a former friend's final goodbye. Their Fatboys growled with the other loud bikes on the highway. Ronnie stood out with his Chicago patch, and Marty rode with his long time vest on, the back bearing the fading where his HA patches once resided at. Instead, a "Support 81" patch was sewn on, in the middle. Ronnie felt right at home with his Angels.

The funeral in Cleveland was boisterous and huge. Angels lined up and paid their respects as their fellow friend was laid to rest. Ronnie got to meet the family, offer his condolences, and spend time with his future chapter members. He got along with everyone, and talked about his music after the funeral was completed. He found a couple members of the Akron chapter were into music as well, and Ronnie found bonding to be much more natural sharing a common interest. The chapter liked him, and Ronnie felt confident that he'll get the unanimous vote to join them.

Refueling for the trip back, Ronnie and Marty followed the huge convoy back towards Akron. Sixty bikes made a tight formation on I-77 as they roared by cars and trucks. Through his goggles, Ronnie scanned the horizon for anything out of the ordinary as they all went around a huge eighteen wheeler lumbering in the far right lane. As Ronnie cleared the nose, he spotted another convoy of bikes getting on the on-ramp. He squinted his blue eyes to look at the patches. "Oilers" stood out immediately, and the Doberman remembered the biker that his boyfriend's sister was dating. "Oh boy." Was his immediate thought.

The convoy remained in formation as Ronnie saw the other bikers form up beside them. The Doberman glanced over at his fellow Angels, who glared over at the rival Oilers. Ronnie glanced over at Marty, who held his position, his aged face looking stern behind his sunglasses and helmet. Marty looked over at Ronnie and nodded, motioning with his paw to hold formation.

Up ahead, the Oilers tried to pull ahead, but the leaders of the Akron chapter cut them off. Undeterred, the leader of the Oilers tried to swerve at the vice-president, who instead kicked him back. Ronnie glanced over to his right to see guys moving in at him. He glanced ahead and practically jumped; slamming the brakes on, Ronnie locked his tires up and put his bike into a slide to avoid hitting the guys in front of him as there was a huge collision between the Angels and Oilers. Smoke emitted from his tires as Ronnie slid to a stop, nearing hitting the guardrail.

Jumping off his bike, Ronnie watched a brawl rapidly unfold as scars swerved and crashed into each other. Ronnie ran in to protect his fellow Angels as the Oilers took them on hand-to-hand. There were screams all over, and everyone seemed like they were hitting and slashing at each other.

Ronnie shoved and swung and hit anyone who wore an Oiler patch. It was happening to fast, he didn't know what to say or think, only swing and hit. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Marty throw someone off him, and sucker punch another Doberman in the face. He stumbled into Ronnie, who shoved him down to the pavement.

"RONNIE!"

The Doberman felt a fist hit him in the chest, which knocked the air out of him momentarily. He tripped over a bike and a German Shepherd, to stare up at a big Rottweiler attacking him, armed with a knife. Ronnie recognized him as Allison's boyfriend, Tyler. Eyes going huge, Ronnie rolled and dodged a knife coming down at him. Marty struck the Rott in the back of the head and shoved him aside, giving Ronnie time to jump up to his feet. Ronnie went for the knife and grabbed it. Marty put Tyler in a headlock and Ronnie ripped the knife from his grip. Tyler kicked Marty and dropped him to a knee as he ripped another knife from his vest. As he tried to swing at Ronnie, the Dober slashed him in the wrist, immediately drawing blood.

"AHHH!~" The Rottweiler yelled. Ronnie bared his teeth and sliced his vest open, which drew blood on his chest.

"MOTHERFUCKER!" Ronnie yelled. As a white wolf tried to take a swing, Ronnie slashed his arm with a knife and punched him in the face, knocking him to the ground. The Rottweiler tried to attack Ronnie again, but the Dober punched him square in his muzzle, knocking his lights out.

"Marty! Marty!" Ronnie yelled.

"Yeah! I'm okay... my fucking knee..." the older Dober grunted as he limped to the guard rail.

Ronnie dropped the knife when he saw the telltale, strobing blue lights of State Highway Patrol, as the silver Dodge Chargers came screaming up. Officers jumped out with guns and rifles drawn.

"STATE HIGHWAY PATROL MOTHERFUCKERS STOP IT! STOP IT!" officers screamed as they fired guns into the air for warning shots. Ronnie watched as one Oiler try and charge an officer with a knife, only to get shot by a panicked patrolmen with an M16 rifle. Immediately everyone stopped brawling, and the highway was littered with injured bikers, wrecked bikes, and panicked people.

Ronnie helped Marty to the guardrail as they were quickly apprehended by the patrolmen.

"You got Rob's number, right?" Marty quipped to his friend as they were led away in cuffs.

Streetlights began to flicker on at dusk. After a hectic afternoon dealing with the fallout from the brawl, Ronnie found himself set free, having just barely skirted the clutches of the law yet again. In the brawl, at least thirty people were severely injured, several hospitalized in the collision, and well over fifty arrests. Ronnie was unhurt, but Marty was at the emergency room, getting his knee and shoulder looked at after he was thrown off his bike in the collision.

In the emergency room, Ronnie sat in a chair beside Marty, who sat on the hospital bed, his arm bandaged up and an ice pack sitting on his knee. Blue surgical masks covered their faces. Ronnie awaited a ride home from Rob, as his bike took some damage on the tires. Marty's bike had the chrome on it all scuffed up and a rim badly bent from where he wrecked.

"Brings back ole times~" chuckled Marty. "But man, I can't do this shit anymore."

"You sure put up a fight..." Ronnie laughed.

"Well yeah! Stand your ground from those motherfuckers." Marty laughed. He winced and grabbed his aching shoulder to rub it.

"I didn't think the Oilers could put up a convoy like that?" Ronnie asked.

"Oh yeah, there's a presence in that neck of the woods. They're mostly from Youngstown. Trouble makin' motherfuckers..." Marty grunted. "We used to battle with them back in the nineties. They were trying to intrude in our turf and we shut that shit down..."

"I can imagine." Ronnie grimaced sarcastically. "Those motherfuckers can fight."

"Yeah."

Bursting around the partially drawn curtain was little Colt, who excitedly greeted his Dad with a green surgical mask on his face. "Hi Dad!"

"Hey!" Ronnie said with a happy grin emerging as he hugged his son. "Lil' Colty!"

"Dad! Are you okay?" Colt asked as he hugged his Dad back. Around the curtain came Rob, and Marty's boyfriend, Jason.

"I'm okay Colty! I just had a little accident and scuffle with some other bikers~"

"Be careful!" Colt smiled. "Marty? Are you okay?"

Marty smiled at Colt. "I'm okay, lil' man~"

"Good!"

"That's why there's hospitals and doctors lil' Colty!" Ronnie laughed. "They fix ya up!"

Colt reached over and grabbed a stethoscope that was hung up on the wall. He looked at it and placed it on his head and pressed the chestpiece to Ronnie's forehead, which made him laugh. "No! No! You don't use that there! You check for breathing and heart rate here!"

"Ohh!"

"See?" Ronnie remarked as he gently took the stethoscope and put it in his ears to press it to Colt's chest. "The chestpiece is really sensitive and-"

"DAD!!!"

Ronnie ripped the stethoscope off his head and grabbed his ears at the explosion of noise. He fell back into the chair, momentarily stunned.

"Oh! Was that loud?" giggled Colt at his Dad rubbed his ears.

"Yes! Very!" Ronnie said, choking up with laughter. "Jesus Christ..."

As the last light of the day began to slip away to darkness, Marty was released from the hospital. Under the bright lights of the parking lot, Ronnie helped Marty out of the emergency room doors of Akron's main hospital. Colt walked between them and Rob and Jason. In the parking lot, Marty's red Silverado sat in its parking spot, with his bike strapped down in the bed. Beside it was Rob's newer Silverado, the 3500HD with Ronnie's bike lying down strapped down in the long bed.

As they neared their trucks, Ronnie heard the loud rumble of a motorcycle. He looked over to see the president of the Akron Hells Angels come rumbling up on his flame adorned Harley. The burly brown wolf with his long gray hair and braided beard parked and hopped off to check on them.

"Fellas!" he greeted with his raspy voice. "Are you doing okay, Marty?"

"Yeah, I'm fine." The older Dober nodded.

"Sucks getting' fucking old huh?" the wolf laughed. "Remember when we were young?"

"Yeah, those were the days huh?" laughed Marty. "If it don't kill ya, it makes you stronger~"

"What about you, Ron?"

"Yeah! I'm fine." The Dober smiled at him.

"Heh, heh, you are quite the fighter." The wolf complimented. "You got your Dad's personality, but when you need to throw down and kick some Oiler ass... you hand it to them!"

"Heh, it's part of business." Ronnie chuckled as he pushed some hair out of his face.

"I like you, Ron. I think you'll do just fine~" the wolf chuckled. "Have a good night, fellas!"

"Thanks Brian~" Ronnie waved. "Have a good night!"

Jason helped Marty into the passenger seat of his truck. Ronnie and Rob said goodbye to Jason and Marty as they departed first for the long drive back to Hanover. Colt and Ronnie hopped into Rob's truck, and he spun it around to head back to Newark.

The first hour of the drive home was quiet. Rob was a man sometimes of very few words, as he drove in complete silence. Ronnie had the radio on, and he listened to a rock station as they drove on the empty interstate. Colt grew tired and fell asleep in the backseat.

"So you just waltzed in there like John Wayne?" Rob joked. He had finally broken the silence.

"Kinda." Laughed Ronnie as he turned the volume down a bit. "We were minding our business, and then they came roaring up and there was a collision and it turned into a huge brawl, and that's how me and Marty ended up at the ER."

"Yeah, sounds about right." Rob nodded. "People are stupid."

"Biker life." Chuckled Ronnie. "Different patches sometimes don't mix."

"Yeah I get that."

"Sorry I had to drag you up here to come get my dumbass~" Ronnie apologized. Rob just motioned with his paw, like it was no deal. "Talon told me you had an accident, and he couldn't get you because he was out of town. It's no big deal. That's what friends are for."

"I really appreciate it."

"I'll pay for the new tires too. Don't worry about it." Rob added.

"Rob you're too nice. I don't know how to repay you for all the generosity."

"Don't worry about it." The wolf-hybrid reiterated. "I understand the situation you were in. So I sympathize. You're someone who was very near rock bottom when I met you. You don't have anyone, but your friends and your son, and he needs you. So I get it. I know you get stalked and harassed by cops because of your club affiliation, so I guess I know what it's like when the system breaths down your neck and you have no one to turn to."

"Yeah." Ronnie nodded. "I'm glad you get it. Not many people understand."

"That's because they're fuckin' stupid." Rob grunted. "Too many stupid momos in this world. They need cullin'."

Ronnie closed his eyes and laughed at Rob's bluntness. "Can't argue with that."

"Let's do one more take just for redundancy." Came Varg's voice through his headphones. Looking through the glass of the recording booth, Ronnie gave a thumbs up as Varg acknowledged behind the audio mixer. Behind him, the big analog tape machines spun their reels of audio tape.

"It used to seem to me that my life ran on too fast

And I had to take it slowly just to make the good parts last

But when you're born to run it's so hard to just slow down

So don't be surprised to see me back in that bright part of town"

Ronnie listened to the song play through his headphones. His friends had recorded their parts together a few days earlier, and now Ronnie was adding his lyrics to finish his EP idea.

"I'll be back in the high life again

All the doors I closed one time will open up again

I'll be back in the high life again

All the eyes that watched me once will smile and take me in"

Ronnie sang his heart out in the recording booth, his head bobbing back and forth, his hair bouncing around as he sang into the large microphone. The song felt just like his life, as he tried to take his career back.

After recording the last song, Ronnie went to the control room to help cut it together. He picked the best versions of his audio that he liked and they were mixed together and played back. Ronnie and Varg worked the sliders and listened to the playback as they got the sound right. After a couple of hours, his EP, which he christened "Ronnie Samson - Full Circle" was completed on the computer. It was composed of a cover of Status Quo's "Rockin' All Over the World", Bruce Springsteen's "I'm Goin' Down", Blondie's "I'm Always Touched by Your Presence, Dear", and Steve Winwood's "Back in the High Life Again".

"Wow that's it." Ronnie breathed a sigh of relief. He made a copy and saved it to his thumb drive.

"There ya go. Your big comeback!" Varg smiled.

"Yeah, sure." Laughed Ronnie cynically. "This will go over like a lead balloon!"

"Like a lead zeppelin." Laughed Varg.

"No way." Ronnie chuckled. "But we'll see."

"Never know!" Varg encouraged.

"Well Mav's working on drawing the cover art, so I look forward to seeing what this will look like." Ronnie added as he pulled the thumb drive out of the USB port. "Here's hoping!"

After work, Ronnie stepped out of his workplace into the sweltering heat to climb into his broiling truck. Firing up the A/C immediately, he took off to go pick his bike up from the shop. As he drove, he listened to his finished EP, and was impressed by how it sounded. It was a far different sound than the blues and R&B fused hard rock and metal that Hard Times used to do. It was smoother, more pop like, a mixture of rock and new wave. It was different, and he liked the variety for once. He listened to himself sing a cooler sounding version of "Rockin' All Over the World". He couldn't wait to show his friends and boyfriend.

Grabbing his bike from the shop, Ronnie returned back home where he parked his truck beside his house. Riding the bike down the ramp, he parked his Fatboy back into his garage beside his Civic and ventured back inside, away from the heat. Colt soon came running over from his friend's house, and Ronnie made dinner for them and got caught up on their day. Colt told his Dad all about spending the day at the amusement park with Colby's family, and how much fun he had going on some of the water slides. Ronnie told Colt about recording and finishing his EP, which after dinner, Ronnie showed his son the finished songs.

Colt sat next to his Dad at the computer desk and listened to each song. He looked at his Dad with an excited face at hearing his voice once again on a song. "Wow! I love it!" Colt exclaimed excitedly.

"I am too." Ronnie smiled. "I'm excited for this one." He even sang some of the lines with Colt as they listened to it.

"I am still in touch with your presence, dear

I am still in touch with your presence, dear

I am still in touch with your presence, dear, dear, dear, dear, dear~"

Checking his Telegram, he plugged his thumb drive in and copied the finished songs over to his hard drive. He sent all four of them to his friends back in Chicago, and see what they had to say. Slowly, their feedback began to come back.

"Wow!" Adam wrote. "Holy shit, that's amazing. Who did the instruments?"

"Holy shit dude, awesome." Came big Colt's reply.

"Awesome." Todd got back to him.

"Fuck yeah!" Killian and Don both wrote.

"I am super excited for this. And excited for what we're gonna do when you get here." Ronnie wrote back.

While everyone was online in their group chat, Ronnie and all of them planned their ambitious video project. They went over what songs they wanted to do, how they'd cover it. Ronnie wanted each member to sing a song, to be fair, which they all agreed upon. They also decided on a last second addition, all of them singing parts to Bob Dylan's song, "My Back Pages".

"Rob told me earlier today that he got us an upgrade. Instead of in the studio, we can record this at the Midland theatre, and Varg said he'd work on getting us a crowd to come and see us."

"Oh boy..." Colt wrote back. "This is gonna be interesting..."

"This could be our big break for a comeback."

"Well this is titled 'Barev Presents... Hard Times', lol." Ronnie wrote. "But this is an upgrade! The Midland is a nice lil' place in town here."

"Fingers crossed..." Adam wrote.

"Yeah."

"Well we'll be seeing you soon!" Killian wrote, with a smiley face emoticon at the end.

"I will!"

Checking the time on his phone, Ronnie stood with Colt in the shade of one of Rob's big propliners. The Dobers stood, awaiting the arrival of his friends from Chicago. They were due to come in around nine-thirty. Ronnie scanned the empty blue sky through his tinted shades. It was the big day, and he was excited to host his friends that he missed so much.

There was an intense roar, and Ronnie pointed out for Colt as they watched a silver Su-7 roar off the runway in full afterburner. The cylindrical, sharply swept wing Sukhoi rocketed into the empty blue sky, trailing a long tongue of flame. The roar resonated off the ground. Colt looked at his Dad all excitedly.

Ronnie watched the Sukhoi sparkle in the sky as it climbed away with an exhaust plume behind it. His eyes spotted something come into view, as he spotted a propliner come around in the landing pattern. It's long slender wings glistened in the morning sun as it banked around in a lazy turn. Ronnie had a smile emerge on his face when he saw that it was his friends finally arriving from Chicago.

"And here comes the boys!" Ronnie pointed to Colt.

"Cool!" his son exclaimed.

Descending into land was Barev's very rare Starliner, the curvaceous Lockheed on its first official flight after undergoing a several million dollar re-winging program. Four piston engines burbled with their huge propellers clawing the air as the plane descended in for landing. Touching down on the widely spaced landing gear, the wings flexed a bit as the plane rolled out smoothly. Ronnie stood in the shade watching as the plane rolled to a crawl, and turned off the runway for the tarmac. Its outboard radials were powered off, and the big Curtiss propellers windmilled to a stop.

On just the inboards, the propliner arrived, and was guided to a parking spot by the ground crew. "Altair", the Starliner's christened name, bore the new paint scheme of Barev, a very conservative silver and white scheme with a thin blue cheatline. "UNITED BAREV INDUSTRIES LTD." was stenciled on the upper fuselage. The plane came to a stop and the inboard radials powered off. Ground crew approached with the airstair while they chocked the spidery landing gear.

Ronnie walked with Colt to the rear steps, just as the hatch was opened. Stepping out first was the captain of their flight, Ivo Horvat, who made sure that the door was fully opened and secured. Stepping out first was Todd, followed by Colt. Adam, Killian, and Don poked their head out through the hatch.

"Hey! Welcome!" Ronnie yelled and waved.

"We made it!" Todd shouted. He ran down the steps and gave Ronnie a happy hug. They laughed and hugged each other as they were all reunited again. Ronnie felt euphoric about having his fellow Angels back in his life again.

"Hey guys!" Colt waved. "Welcome!"

"Hey lil' Colt!" Big Colt exclaimed. "Have you grown some?"

"Yeah!" the young Dober grinned.

"How's you, lil' man!" Adam smiled as he gave Colt a pat on his back.

"Great, Adam!"

"I gotta fly more like this again! This was the best plane ride ever." Todd exclaimed as he pointed to the Starliner.

"No loud ass kids kicking my seat~" laughed Killian. "Smooth as silk! Just a bit louder~"

"Ronnie and his jet set lifestyle now~" Don teased.

"Pfft, motherfuckers, please." Laughed Ronnie. "It's not what you know! It's who you know!"

As they stood and talked, the second flight arrived. Getting their attention was the deep, throaty rumble of piston engines as they all stood and watched the giant Globemaster come in for a landing. The C-124C lumbered in for a slow descent. Its huge double-decker fuselage stood out as the massive cargo plane touched down with a jolt and puffs of smoke from the tires. The smoky R-4360's went into reverse thrust almost immediately, and the roar of propellers bled off speed. "Ole' Shaky" carried Adam's van, and their motorcycles, along with a bunch of cargo Rob shuttled between Chicago and Newark for "internal services".

Once the huge cargo plane was chocked, everyone helped to unload the plane through its forward clamshell doors. Using a built in ramp, one by one the motorcycles were driven down, and Adam gingerly brought his Mom's van down the ramps.

"Adam's mom's van... ha~" Todd laughed.

"Keep laughing!" Adam scoffed sarcastically. "The mommobile gets the job done!"

"Whatever you say, Adam!" Colt grinned and laughed. "Whatever you say!"

"Adam's mom has got it goin' on!" Ronnie sang with a sarcastic grin as they all laughed together on the tarmac.

Roaring down Hebron Road, Ronnie and his friends made heads turn as they rolled in a convoy with the morning traffic. The loud roar of their Harleys filled everyone's ears as they made their way back to Ronnie's home on the north end of Newark. Ronnie led the way, with Killian and Colt right behind him, followed by Todd and Don, and Adam, who brought up the rear. Adam glanced back at his van following behind them, driven by one of the airport employees, who was also followed by an airport truck. Making their way along North 79, Ronnie took the exit ramp to Route 16 and they all followed the curving off ramp that led them to Route 16, and the 21st Street exit.

Getting the green light, Ronnie roared around the turn with Colt holding on behind him. Everyone smoothly followed through the turn. Getting off 21st Street for Moull, Ronnie pulled up to his home, where everyone parked on the side. The van was dropped off by the garage, and Ronnie waved goodbye as the airport employees departed in their work truck.

"Wow! This is nice." Killian complemented as he stepped inside Ronnie's home with everyone. Everybody was impressed by Ronnie's new home.

"This is a real upgrade from the apartment." Colt chuckled.

"You're tellin' me!" Ronnie laughed.

"How much dick did you suck for this?" Todd teased with a grin and a playful nudge.

"None!" Ronnie laughed as he flipped his friend off. "Not what you know! It's who you know!"

"Apparently!" Don laughed. "This is awesome, man~"

"I'm very thankful."

"Big Colt! Wanna see my bedroom!" little Colt exclaimed.

"Sure, lil man!" the Arctic wolf as he was led to Colt's bedroom to see his new room.

Todd sat down on the couch and breathed a sigh of relief. "Ronnie, we're all happy you made it big here~"

"Yeah man, we were all worried about you for a long time." Killian added as he sat at the computer chair.

"I took a blind leap of fate, and it paid off. But I was really nervous the first days." Ronnie admitted. "But now things are really looking up. And I can breathe a huge sigh of relief."

"Good~"

Ronnie heard the back door open. Turning his head, he saw that it was Talon stepping inside. His boyfriend was sweaty, with a sweat soaked baseball hat atop his head, and stained tanktop. "Sorry!" Talon exclaimed. "I had to unfuck something retards one and two did!"

"Oh hey! I want you guys to meet someone special, Talon!"

Colt returned from little Colt's bedroom. "So Ronnie, this is your boyyyyyyyyfrrrrrrrriiiiiennndddddd?" the Arctic wolf teased with a big grin while the others chuckled.

"Yes." Ronnie laughed. "This is Talon Bradley~"

"Landscaper, boss man, job unfucker, and stud service!" Talon grinned as he put his paws around Ronnie and gave him a playful kiss on the side of his muzzle.

"Awww, how cute!" Killian laughed with Todd. Ronnie blushed a bit from the kiss.

"Well I'm glad you found someone!" Don exclaimed. "We thought you were gonna get some twinky boy!"

"Naw, he got himself a big ole' country boy!" Talon laughed with a grin.

"Talon helps heal the void in my heart after Misty died." Ronnie admitted as he smiled at Talon. "He makes me happy~"

"In bed~" grinned Talon, who snuck a playful kiss on Ronnie's nose.

"Can't argue with that!" Todd laughed.

"No you cannot!" Talon chuckled.

"I'm hungry!" Killian exclaimed.

"Yeah! Let's get some grub." Adam laughed.

"Well lemme get cleaned up and we'll get the grill fired up!" Talon suggested.

"I'll grill some steaks."Ronnie remarked as he walked towards the kitchen.

"Chef Ronnie!"

"I'm always the one cooking!" Laughed Ronnie as they all basked in their company again.

As the sun began to set and the sweltering heat slowly subsided, Ronnie lit some torches to keep the mosquitoes away on his patio. String lights provided a soft amber glow as band equipment was set up under the cloth sun shield over the patio. Don set his drums up, Adam worked on his synth, and Killian, Todd, and Colt adjusted their amps to their guitars. Ronnie sat back down with his friends, his boyfriend and son, and they all proceeded to work on an impromptu jam session to practice. The amps were kept quiet to avoid bothering the neighbors, and Don worked his drums more quietly than ripping away at them.

Like many years before when they were new, they did a bunch of covers of Kiss songs that they liked. Each took a turn singing lead to a song they liked as they jammed away. For Don, who liked singing "Hard Luck Woman", Adam replaced his synth with a 12-string Rickenbacker, for the jangley sound. Ronnie also added tunes with his acoustic guitar.

"I think this will be fun to do. And we're doing this at a theatre thing?"

"Yeah!" Ronnie exclaimed. "Rob surprised me. I guess the Midland had a venue cancel, and they're gonna let us videotape the program there. Which I think is awesome."

"That's gonna look so much nicer." Colt nodded. "What a break~"

"Yeah, I'll say."

"This really is gonna happen." Killian remarked. "After five years... we're back."

"Crazy to think how long it's been." Todd nodded.

"It's just gonna be different now. Since all of us have careers now outside of the band."

"Yeah." Ronnie nodded. "It'll now be a side gig."

"But it's a new world for music now!" Don added. "You don't have to slave and tour like the old days. So I mean, we'll be digital stars."

"Heh, if an eight year old can make twenty-six million dollars on TikTok... then I think we could do just fine online~" laughed Todd. "Fuck! This makes me feel so old now!"

"Well you are old." Don laughed. "Old fuck!"

"Hey! Hey! I'm like a fine wine! I get better with age!"

"More like need WD40 on those joints." Killian laughed. He stretched his arm and winced a bit. "I shouldn't talk... I'm right behind you..."

"Ha! Yeah!" Todd grinned.

"I was getting up and slipped and busted my ass when turbulence rocked the plane a bit."

"Press your life alert." Talon chuckled. He cracked his neck and rotated an arm around. "Wait till you do landscaping all day!"

"Oh I can imagine." Killian nodded.

"My job is made more harder because I have to also function as adult daycare for people who shouldn't use power tools!" the big Doberman laughed.

"Me and big Colt have to do that too at the warehouse, right Colt?"

"Yeah." The Arctic wolf laughed. "You'd be amazed at the complete lack of work ethic people have these days."

"You mean I gotta work!?" Adam mocked with a grin. "That's what made me quit from the credit union! I busted my ass there, and got passed over for a promotion, and they give it to the lazy fuck who kisses ass."

"Pucker up, Adam!" Ronnie pointed with a grin.

"Fuck that!" the black and rust Dober laughed. "Now I can go and do my dream job of working in music at the Carson studio for Varg."

"Oh god." Everyone laughed. "The irony."

"Yeah!" Adam laughed. "At least Ronnie got Pat fired..."

"No, no. He got himself fired for that fight." Ronnie pointed out. "Fucking idiot, that Pat."

"Stupid momo~" Todd shook his head. The gray wolf just laughed and adjusted his grip in his paws. "Let's make sure we do this right the first time~ This might be our only shot at a comeback..."

"Yeah." Everyone agreed.

Picking up where they left off, they continued on with practicing their songs, under the warm glow of the torches and lights.

Sunday morning was busy for Ronnie and his friends. They had spent the morning together, practicing their songs for the concert program, before going to take all their instruments over to the studio, to shoot a couple music videos. They recorded live, a cover of "Hard Luck Woman" and another Kiss song, "Love 'em, Leave 'em." For Ronnie's finished EP, they shot Ronnie singing "I'm Always Touched by your Presence, dear", complete with Rob's secretary, Tabby Murphy, filling in as a Misty double for the shoot. After spending hours shooting video, they found themselves back in the studio, for a sort of impromptu interview by Rob's nephew, Alvin Paulo. It would kill time as the music videos were further processed and digitized in the editing room.

Ronnie, Killian, Don, Colt, Adam, and Todd all sat in a sort of arc in the darkened studio. Spotlights brilliantly shone down on them from the tall ceiling of the former gymnasium. As they sat, they watched the four TK-47's be lined up for the shots. High above them on a jib sat a computer controlled HL-79EAL, staring down for a high up, wide angle shot of them.

"So just relax, this is just a casual thing!" Alvin promised as he checked the time on his watch. The young Dober, with semi-curly locks of hair neatly permed and trimmed up, beamed with confidence as he held a microphone.

"Let's do this!" Killian exclaimed.

"Okay!" Alvin exclaimed. "Uhh, roll VTR!"

"We are go on the VTR." Came Ryan McDowd, a red haired malamute behind camera one. "Let's do take one~"

Alvin held up the microphone and stared into the camera as the red tally lights glowed.

"Today with me in the studio is a band who, five years ago, was at the cusp of success before it all came crashing down in a tragic accident." Alvin introduced, speaking with his "network voice". "Hard Times is their name, and if anything, the past five years have really been 'hard times' for this band. They are a rock band out of Chicago Illinois, a five man team, who became noted for their unique and ballsy infusion of hard rock, metal, with a seventies splash of rhythm and blues, and plenty of soul. They look like a band of Hells Angels, the bikers from hell and back, and that's because they are! Today in the studio, I bring you, Ronnie Samson, Colt Janssen, Todd Kennedy, Adam Stein, and brothers, Killian and Don Halen. Gentlemen!"

Alvin turned around to smile at Ronnie and his friends who all greeted him warmly for the cameras. "What a pleasure to have you here today in the studio."

"Well it's our attempts at making it big again, or something like that." Laughed Ronnie.

"Yeah, gotta start somewhere, right?"

"Exactly." Killian nodded.

"So I've read up about your band, all of your bios, the tragic accident, and your comeback, and I must start off, how did this all come about originally?" Alvin asked.

"It's funny how things start off, and it was a long time ago, wasn't it, Todd?" Ronnie remarked, as Todd nodded and agreed. "Well the band came together around 2013ish. Now Todd and Colt were in a band or two before, and their bands fell apart, and we were all in the same chapter of the club, so we all just kinda found out our similar interest in music, and it kinda went from there."

"I was in two bands before Hard Times." Todd recalled to Alvin. "I was in a metal band called Nitrobomb, and we did two albums before that band broke apart, and then I was in a second band, which was more of a traditional rock band kind of thing before that went belly up right as the first album was released."

Colt spoke up. "I played bass in a scream metal band for a few years, until that came apart. So we had some experience on our hands. Me and Todd wanted to create a band, and we found Ronnie when he was prospecting for the club, and then we got Adam when he was prospecting too, and Eddy Halen, our original drummer. That was around 2012, 2013ish, and we started making some music, and played some small gigs around Chicago. That's how we were found."

"So we all got together around that time, and we all agreed upon to infuse this hard rock sound with a seventies kind of soul, R and B flavor, kind of like the band Little Caesar, and their song 'Hard Times', is what inspired our band name, since well, fuck it, why not?" Ronnie laughed. "Kind of an ironic thing when you look back on it. But making music and trying to promote it, really was 'hard times'."

"I can imagine. And your band is separate from the Hells Angels?"

"Yes, no, and kind of." Don chuckled. "What we do in our band has no involvement with the club, other than needing permission to wear our colors when we play live, because that's a really sensitive thing for how the club wants to protect its intellectual property."

"I see."

"The club does not tell us how to do our music or whatnot." Colt shook his head. "So what we do in the club, is completely separate from what we do in the band. Now the band is a legitimate source of income for the club, and that was our contribution to our chapter."

"So hence why, yes, no, and kind of!" Don grinned with a snicker.

"Good enough!" Alvin chuckled in return. "I have listened to your first and second album, and it's a great sound."

"We wanted to not sound like modern music today." Todd explained. "A lot of music today frankly sounds like shit. It's hollow, or autotuned to hell, and that's just something that didn't entertain us."

"That's why we picked Ronnie to be our lead singer." Adam added. "Because Ronnie can actually sing."

"Apparently it was evident since I was a kid." The Dober chuckled. "I was told since grade school that I could sing well in music class, and even my Dad was really impressed. He said I could make angels grow wings with my singing. So I guess my fate was sealed for that!"

"Apparently so, Ronnie. You have a very dynamic voice behind the microphone."

"Thank you, Alvin! I appreciate it. That's just natural for me~" Ronnie shrugged. "But despite me being a lead singer, we all took turns singing a song on the album. We're a very democratic band when we pick our songs out."

"We like to pick songs that show our uniqueness and our strengths." Killian said. "Ronnie can hit high and low notes effortlessly, I'm good at projecting power, my brother Don has that smoky Rod Stewart sound, Colt is good for the lower notes, and Todd is just... well... Todd."

"Thanks!" the wolf laughed as he flipped Killian off with a grin. "Wait till you're forty-one and spent almost twenty years preachin' rock n' roll!"

"Todd can sing just fine." Ronnie laughed as he glanced over at his friend.

"So tell me what it was like being discovered?" Alvin asked.

"We were playing at a nightclub, and we happened to meet an employee from the Carson studio in Chicago. He was very impressed by our singing, and he immediately went to his boss and told him about us, and they asked us to come and meet them at their offices."

Colt smirked a bit and leaned back in his seat. "So being us, we come roaring on in on our bikes, all in our leathers and shit, and we go there to meet the executives. The CEO comes out, takes one look at us, and looks over at Pat, the band manager, and is like 'Who the fuck are these motherfuckers?'".

Everyone chuckled at the remark. Colt continued on. "So we meet with Carson, and they were impressed further, and then asked us to play a few songs, so we came back and did that. That's when they signed us up, and we got the best engineers around to help produce the debut album."

"It felt like we were on cloud nine or something." Ronnie recalled. "Suddenly, we were recording on professional gear, and had professionals helping guide us along. It was amazing."

"It felt surreal at times." Adam explained. "From going to just a microphone and a laptop, to something massive, whole studio experience. It was truly a magical moment."

"Then came the touring." Todd chuckled.

"The first tour was a real doozy." Killian laughed as he explained it further. "We went from weekend gigs around Chicago, to suddenly being thrust into this huge, ambitious tour across the midwest to support the release of the album, which had gone immediately into the charts."

"My Dad bought us a van, a used Ford Econoline, to help us out." Ronnie chimed in.

"The pedo-van." Teased Colt.

"Yeah, Dad's pedo-van." Ronnie laughed. "It was an old Econoline, with a huge V10 engine. It had a nasty habit of blowing water pumps all the time, but that's all we had for logistics. So all of us and our bags, and the trailer full of gear, grinding our way across the interstate."

"It was really grueling at times." Adam grimaced. "Hours and hours on the road. You'd see all of us on the side of the highway taking a piss, and it was really ruthless at times. We'd be rushing from show to show, living in hotels, and it was crazy."

"All of us packed into that van." Todd chuckled. "But I was used to touring because I had done it before. But even then, it was arduous to put it nicely."

"And our first tour was an unmitigated disaster in a way." Ronnie remarked with a smirk towards his friends. "The van kept giving us problems, Carson overbooked us-"

"What a surprise..." Killian rolled his eyes.

"We had a brawl at our second gig when a bunch of Mongols came and wanted to pick a fucking fight with us Hells Angels." Ronnie shuddered. "And then Eddy got the clap..."

"Oh god..." everyone laughed.

"Eddy was a wild man. He was like diet Keith Moon." Colt chuckled.

"Eddy liked his groupies~" Todd laughed.

"He didn't blow up the toilets in a hotel right?" Alvin grinned.

"Nah." Killian laughed. "Not Moon the Loon level! But Eddy truly lived life to the fullest."

"One hell of a drummer too." Don recalled.

"By the time we did our sophomore album, we had Lisa Milstein, and Sam Morton, as our lighting and sound engineer for the tour." Ronnie added. "Lisa was Eddy's girlfriend. She was fantastic with the lighting. You could get her to light anything perfectly the first try."

"Sam was an awesome sound engineer." Adam nodded. "He taught me a lot about how to get sound to sound good."

"Way to use your words, Adam!" Todd laughed.

"Hey! I'm just saying!"

"Sound to sound good... Ha!" Todd teased.

Ronnie couldn't help but laugh on camera. "We had a fantastic team, and everything was going so good into 2017. We were on multiple nationally syndicated television shows, our second album had climbed up high in the charts! We were getting there! Everyone was so happy, and expecting this massive success, and then it all, literally, came crashing down in an Iowa farm field."

"The plane crash." Alvin nodded.

"Yes." Ronnie nodded back. "The day the music died for us."

"It was a very, complicated, tragic, convoluted, well, clusterfuck." Killian frowned. "Eddy, Lisa, and Sam's death on that old plane with the flight crew."

"To tell the story. We were on our way to South Dakota to play a gig when the water pump blew. We limped into an airport's parking lot, and one of the airport employees saw us trying to work on the van. They introduced us to someone named 'Crazy Lenny', and he had this old plane he was going to fly to South Dakota, and he was willing to take us there."

"Our first mistake was accepting a plane ride someone with 'Crazy' in their name!" Colt exclaimed.

"Eddy volunteered to go along with Lisa and Sam." Killian added. "Ed wanted to get our stuff up there so we wouldn't have to rush around since the pump would put us behind a few hours. And I am telling you this, because everyone wants to blame Ron for what had happened."

"Our parents for many years believed that Ronnie was solely responsible for our brother's death." Don grimaced. "And that is not the case at all."

"I'll refrain from saying anything on that. Other than it made for quite a legal debacle." Ronnie rolled his eyes.

Todd leaned forward a bit. "Apparently there was some kind of mechanical failure or malfunction of the cabin heater on the old DC-3, because it just randomly exploded over Iowa. No distress signal, nothing. Everyone was killed."

"It was a very painful loss." Ronnie nodded.

"The record company blamed us for it, and they stripped us of everything." Colt added. "Royalties, our rights to our songs, the catalogue, everything. They even went as far as trying to sue all of us, which ended up being thrown out in court. But it was a very unfortunate end to what could have been."

"I ended up having to file bankruptcy because the legal defense I had to get sucked all my money away. I lost practically everything I owned. I had a brand new sports car- had to sell it. Nice condo? Had to move to a crappy little apartment. The past five years were a terrible long journey for me." Ronnie explained to Alvin. "I was pretty much at rock bottom until a few months ago, when we were found in Chicago by your uncle Rob Barion, and Varg Eikemo and their friend Maverick."

"Uncle Rob says that he was out shooting video with Maverick and Varg, and they happened to come across you playing at a park?"

"Yeah! We liked to sometimes just put on a free concert in our free time." Ronnie smiled.

"Rock bottom." Adam laughed. "Degrade ourselves as people just ignored us."

"Yeah, that really was something else." Colt chuckled as he crossed his tattooed arms. "We notice these fellas with cameras approaching, and they wanted to videotape us playing. And that's how we met, Rob, Varg, and Maverick."

"We shot our first music videos in years that night." Todd nodded.

"That was the beginning of my turn around in life. Now I'm the sound engineer here in Newark."

"And I'll soon be the sound engineer in Chicago for Varg." Adam acknowledged.

"Very nice!" Alvin complimented. "And you got your rights back by basically Varg buying our Carson?"

"Basically! He secured our catalogue and songs and our name back for us." Ronnie exclaimed.

"And where do you see the band going from here?"

"Well... I'm not sure, Alvin."

Killian brushed some of his long brown hair to the side. "Well it won't be a touring band anymore, because we have careers now. But we want to make music again, and be creative."

"We're gonna take it a day at a time~" Adam shrugged.

"That's all you can do." Alvin said with a nod. "But you'll have us to make your music videos!"

"Of course." They all laughed.

Ronnie leaned forward. "But the music will return, slowly! But surely."

"A perfect conclusion. Well there you have it folks! The men of Hard Times!" Alvin said into the camera as the shot concluded.

"Cut." Alvin called. Everyone laughed and breathed a sigh of relief.

The Midland Theatre was Newark's performing arts center. Located at the north end of the downtown square, the Midland was a white brick building with a fancy neon lit sign that read "MIDLAND" in blue, and a scrolling marquee which flashed "Come see HARD TIMES TONIGHT!". Inside the main theatre, the restored venue had a regal look, with its eggshell white wall, mahogany trim and fancy chandelier that hung in the center of the theatre. There were hundreds of seats on two levels, totaling almost two thousand. Ronnie pondered how many of those seats would be filled?

Running cables with Adam, Ronnie plugged in another microphone and attached it to the stand. He paused for a moment at the middle of the stage and peered out into the empty audience. Was this concert going to be a boom? Or a bust to the band's comeback? Ronnie tried not to think about it. Glancing around, he saw Rob and his crews setting up their cameras. Shooting it on his analog tube cameras, Ronnie watched Rob and his nephew Marcus set up their "OB" cameras; a fleet of RCA TK-47EP's, the "big blues" as they named them, were being attached to their pedestals. Three were at the base of the stage, and two were in the balcony. They would be complemented by the HL-79EAL on the computer controlled jib, and a couple HL-79DA's that would be on the stage and in the audience, to fill out the picture with some handheld shots.

Glancing back, Ronnie saw Don and Todd setting up his big drum set, and Colt, Killian, and Adam were making a few adjustments to the amplifiers for their gear. The Dober pursed his lips and glanced around at the all the activity in preparation. This was their moment of truth. Ronnie could feel the weight of that resting on his shoulders.

Once the equipment and lighting was set up, Ronnie and his band mates practiced. They played through all their songs, and made sure the sound was good and the cameras were operational. They spent a few hours practicing and getting their moves down right. Once they felt confident about their performance, they all grabbed something to eat, and took a break. They would be playing in a few hours. It was time to make or break their comeback.

At six o'clock, the audience began to pour into the theatre to take their seats. Voices resonated against the walls as people took their seats, awaiting the concert. Locals from around the area, curious to what would be offered, sat and waited with anticipation.

Poking his head out from the curtain, Ronnie and Todd took a glance at the theatre filling up slowly. Ronnie and Todd looked at each other with a look of surprise on their face.

"Wow, that's more than what I expected." Todd remarked as he pulled his head back in.

"Yeah. We might have a full house!" Ronnie grinned.

"Helps when the tickets are fuckin' cheap!" laughed the gray wolf. "We just might pull this off."

"I concur." Ronnie chuckled. "This is it, huh?"

"Yeah. This is gonna be great." Todd smiled.

"The comeback special~"

"Let's hope~"

Making a final check of their gear, Ronnie and everyone got ready. Emerging from the dressing room, Ronnie stepped out in his shiny black leathers. Polished boots, black leather pants, complemented his patched up vest, which he wore over a white tanktop. Everyone else wore similar garb; Adam had his vest over jeans and boots, Killian wore leather pants and was shirtless save for his vest, the same with Colt. Todd wore a black t-shirt and jeans, and Don had his biker jacket and black chaps over his jeans.

Stepping onto the stage, they could hear the audience beyond the drawn curtains. Killian walked over and poked his head out. He quickly yanked his head back in, looking surprised.

"Holy shit guys, this place is fuckin' packed!" the malamute exclaimed as he ran a paw through his hair.

"No way..." Colt said as he stuck his head out the corner, repeating the same look as Killian as he pulled his head back in. "What the fuck, this is a full house, guys!"

"I told you Varg and Rob would work their magic." Laughed Ronnie. "This is it!"

"Yeah!" Adam exclaimed.

"Let's fuckin' do this!" Don yelled.

"YEAH!" everyone chanted as they grabbed their instruments.

"Don! It's your time to shine!" Ronnie pointed.

"Let's fuckin' do it!" Don grinned big as he got on his drums.

Everyone got into position with their instruments, as the band was introduced by Alvin Paulo, who gave an opening monologue.

"Good evening and thank you for coming to this show, my name is Alvin Paulo, of United Barev Industries, and I am one of the many producers of his program tonight! I want to introduce you to a band that just might blow you all away tonight! They are from Chicago, and they are five guys who have a lot of talent under their belt, as they try and stage a comeback from a great tragedy half a decade ago. So please give lots of love and excitement to Ron Samson, Killian and Don Halen, Colt Janssen, Adam Stein, and Todd Kennedy! HARD TIMES!"

Alvin ran off the stage as the audience erupted into applause and cheers as the curtains were pulled and the lights in the theatre dimmed a bit. The music immediately started and everyone came running out. Ronnie, armed with his acoustic guitar, played alongside Adam and his Rickenbacker, as they opened the show with their cover of "Hard Luck Woman", sung by Don and his smoky voice.

"If never I met you

I'd never have seen you cry

If not for our first "Hello"

We'd never have to say goodbye

If never I held you

My feelin's would never show

It's time I start walkin'

But there's so much you'll never know

I keep telling you hard luck woman

You ain't a hard luck woman

Rags, the sailor's only daughter

A child of the water

Too proud to be a queen

Rags, I really love you

I can't forget about you

You'll be a hard luck woman

Baby, 'till you find your man"

Ronnie played his acoustic guitar, and he stood with Adam, Colt, Killian, and Todd while they all jammed along to Don's singing, backing him up in places. The audience looked excited, and Ronnie looked over to grin excitedly at his friends, who also looked euphoric.

They sang a few Kiss songs, and threw their own songs from their first two albums in. Ronnie sang lead on a few songs, and everyone got a turn to sing. As the concert went on, Ronnie saw that everyone in the audience seemed hooked. It really was a full house, and the Doberman couldn't believe that almost every seat was filled. With each song finished, the audience erupted in applause and cheers, which loudly resonated through the theatre. Ronnie spotted and smiled at his son, who sat in front row with his best friend Colby, and the Matheson family, who applauded along with them. Ronnie gave them a friendly point of acknowledgement and a grin as he walked back to grab his microphone.

"Thank you! Thank you!" Ronnie exclaimed into the microphone. "How about one more?"

The audience screamed and cheered. Ronnie grinned and nodded. "ADAM!"

Adam grabbed his 12-string and began jamming away "My Back Pages", a Bob Dylan song. The audience clapped as Ronnie grabbed his acoustic guitar and joined in with Todd, Killian, and Colt. Don drummed away behind them.

"Crimson flames tied through my ears, rollin' high and mighty traps, pounced with fire on flaming roads using ideas as my maps, We'll meet on edges, soon said I, proud 'neath heated brow~" Adam sang into the microphone. He was soon joined by everyone for the chorus.

"Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now~"

Killian sang the next lines. "Half-wracked prejudice leaped forth, 'rip down all hate," I screamed. Lies that life is black and white spoke from my skull, I dreamed. Romantic facts of musketeers foundation deep, somehow!"

"Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now~" everyone sang together. Their voices blended together harmoniously, covering the entire spectrum from low to high.

Todd had his solo. "Girls' faces formed the forward path from phony jealousy. To memorizing politics of ancient history. Flung down my corpse evangelists, unthought of, though somehow."

"Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now~"

Playing the bridge, Ronnie looked over at everyone and just grinned. Everyone grinned in excitement as they planned, the audience loving it as they jammed away on their instruments and the cameras tracked them.

"A self-ordained professor's tongue too serious to fool." Colt sang, his voice a bit deeper and gruffer. "Spouted out that liberty is just equality in school. "Equality, " I spoke the word as if a wedding vow~"

"Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now~"

It was Don's turn. From the drums, the malamute worked his tattooed arms while he sang into the bouncing microphone.

"In a soldier's stance, I aimed my hand at the mongrel dogs who teach

Fearing not that I'd become my enemy in the instant that I preach

My existence led by confusion boats, mutiny from stern to bow~"

"Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now~"

Finally it was Ronnie's turn. He spun around to get to the microphone, his long sweaty locks of hair swaying behind his head.

"Yes, my guard stood hard when abstract threats too noble to neglect

Deceived me into thinking I had something to protect

Good and bad, I define these terms quite clear, no doubt, somehow

Ah, but I was so much older then I'm younger than that now"

"Ah, but I was so much older then, I'm younger than that now" everyone sang with the outro. Don ended the song with his cymbals, which could barely drown out the cheering crowds as everyone stood at the front of the stage and gave a group bow and wave to their audience. Ronnie pushed some sweaty hair out of his face as he just grinned out excitedly. Don ran up and they all put their arms around each other and gave a group bow to the flash of cameras.

"Wow, we fuckin' did it!" Colt said to everyone.

"Yeah! We did it!" Don exclaimed.

"You guys are fuckin' awesome." Ronnie laughed. He glanced out at the audience again, to see his son, Talon, the Mathesons and Rob and Varg all applauding them, looking excited. Ronnie knew they had made it with the standing ovation.

There was a group consensus that they had hit it big with the concert. Ronnie and everyone still felt euphoric from the night before. It was the first time in years that they felt that confident about their band and music making. The local newspaper had a headline article about their concert, and after talking to some of the concert goers, Ronnie found that everyone loved their variety of songs they covered, including their own songs. Adding to their excitement was that a professional recording was made, and Varg promised to turn it into an album they could release later in the year. It would be their third official album, and their first live album. Things really were looking up.

In the afternoon, motorcycles roared loudly as Ronnie went with his pack to go celebrate out at Hanover at Dale's place. Talon and his Dad were having a cookout with Marty and Jason, and everyone wanted to celebrate the successful concert they had all witnessed.

At the grill, Talon cooked burgers and hotdogs while sipping on an ice cold beer. "I gotta tell you guys, you really blew that out of the park~"

"I'm relieved." Colt chuckled as he popped the cap on a beer. The burly Arctic wolf took a big swig of Miller Light and smacked his lips with a satisfying "ahh" at the end. "That could have gone either way!"

"Success or shit!" Don laughed. "God, I was so nervous when the curtain was drawn and there was this full audience of people staring at us. Sink or swim!"

"Yeah..." Ronnie chuckled. "You get this little window of opportunity on the first song or two to get the audience hooked, or you're fucked."

Talon flipped some burgers and gave them a slight press as the flames licked up from the burners. "I think you guys have a great harmonics going on with the band. You guys really span the low and high notes perfectly, and it blends seamlessly."

"It's a talent and we're proud of it, but it took time at the beginning to master it." Todd remarked. "But it paid off in the end!"

"That's what counts!" Talon chuckled. "See, I can't sing to save my life. That's why I'm a landscaper."

"Oh c'mon. I'm sure you could sing!" Ronnie smiled as he put his arms around Talon.

"Believe me, it's like fingers on a chalkboard." Talon laughed with a grin.

"You got that nice rugged voice there~" Killian quipped as he grabbed a pop from the cooler.

"Which will not translate into song." Laughed Talon. "I'm just good with my paws doing labor~"

"In bed!" Killian teased.

"You better believe it~" Talon pointed with a grin. "Work hard, and play hard!"

"I like your boyfriend, Ronnie!" Killian laughed. "He tells it like it is!"

"Damn straight!" laughed Talon. "Now who wants to eat my meat!"

"Oh boy..." laughed Ronnie. He covered his face with a paw and shook it with a laugh.

Ronnie and his friends sat around in the shade of the back porch, with Marty, Jason, and Talon's family. With Talon was his parents, brother Josh, and his youngest sister. The only one absent was Allison.

"I really loved how you did my back pages- that's a favorite of mine." Dale explained. "I absolutely love Bob Dylan."

"We threw it in at the last minute, because we thought it would be cool to show our dynamics." Ronnie explained.

"One of the things we wanted to do in the band was do songs in such a way to highlight all of our particular talents, our strengths." Adam added as he reached for some mustard for a hotdog.

"A very democratic band." Dale teased.

"Well yeah. It's how we keep egos happy." Ronnie joked.

"And my ego is very happy!" Colt joked with a grin.

"This is our second wind, and we're happy." Todd nodded. "Right, Ron?"

"Yeah!"

"I look forward to seeing your future works." Talon smiled at Ronnie. "Stud~"

Ronnie just smiled and blushed as his friends all teased him. As he took a bite of his hamburger, Ronnie heard the screech of some car tires, and the unmistakable roar of motorcycles. There was a desperate sounding horn blowing constantly, and it got everyone's attention.

"What the hell is this shit?" Dale scoffed as he got up to see. There was a screech of tires out front, followed by a loud crashing sound. Dale's pace quickened.

Josh got up and ran after his Dad, as did Talon. Everyone else got up and followed behind them. Ronnie ran into the house to see Dale run for his gun safe in the corner of his living room. "Dad! The fucking Oilers are here!" Josh screamed from the window.

"I know! I know! Here!" Dale yelled, throwing a 12 gauge at his son. "ALLISON!"

Ronnie ran out the front door and came to a screeching stop. In the split second glance that he got, Ronnie saw Allison being grabbed by her violent biker boyfriend. Allison, in some skimpy short shorts and a tanktop, thrashed as she was picked up and thrown into a black Suburban SUV. There were four bikers on their Harley's, armed with guns. The moment they saw Ronnie, they opened fire. Ronnie threw himself to the patio floor as bullets rang out, splintering the rail post he took cover from. Dale and Josh tired through the window of the living room, which immediately exploded, showering Ronnie in a rainstorm of little glistening pieces of broken glass.

Josh ran out and slam-fired his Mossberg. "ALLISON! GET YOUR FUCKING PAWS OFF HER!"

"ALLISON!" Dale screamed. He was armed with his Springfield M1A, and Dale let loose with a hail of bullets that struck the SUV as it sped away.

Ronnie crawled back inside, and was grabbed by Talon, just as Josh took a bullet to his upper leg. Josh was struck by a 9mm and fell to the ground. He fired his 12 gauge and hit one of the bikers in the chest with a well placed buckshot. It ripped his vest open as he was flung off his bike. Another biker spun around to escape, but got two shots in the back from Dale's M1. He staggered and fell off the bike in the middle of the road.

"JOSH!" Dale screamed. "JOSH!"

"GET ALLISON!" Josh screamed. He clutched his heavily bleeding leg.

"Come on! Let's get her!" Ronnie yelled as he ran to his bike.

"Dad! Dad! What's going on!?" screamed little Colt.

"Talon! Watch him!" Ronnie yelled.

"Lil' man, come here~" Talon said as he tugged Colt away by the collar of his shirt.

"Don! Killian!" Colt yelled. "You guys stay back! Help Josh!"

"You guys got a first aid kit!?" Todd yelled. "Let's get the bleeding stopped!"

"I'm gonna take your bike!" Marty yelled at Don, who threw him the keys to his chopper.

"Here! Here!" Josh yelled. He frantically shoved fresh shotgun shells into his Mossberg with his bloody fingers, and threw it to Ronnie. "EIGHT SHOTS!"

"Okay!" Ronnie exclaimed. He threw the strap around his shoulder, jumped onto his Fatboy and peeled out after the Oilers.

Talon grabbed from the gun safe, two handguns, for Adam, and Marty, and tossed to big Colt, a M1 Carbine, with an ammo pouch attached to the stock. Marty jumped onto Don's chopper and took off after Ronnie, followed by Adam and Colt. Neighbors looked in shock at the pandemonium as Adam and Colt roared out of the neighborhood.

Badly wounded, one of the oilers tried to crawl to his 9mm, only to get kicked in the head by Barbara, who held him at gunpoint with an M92 pistol in her grip. "DROP IT!" she screamed.

Roaring out of Hanover at full speed, Ronnie rode his dad's Fatboy at maximum speed. He blew by slow cars and kept the throttle open as he tried to catch up with the Oilers, which he spotted a mile ahead of him. Soon, Adam, Colt, and Marty formed up on him. Ronnie signaled with his paws to the others, motioning them to keep back a bit. He pulled away from them in hot pursuit.

Ahead, the black Suburban screeched around slow, unsuspecting cars, as Allison struggled against her captors. With two Oilers providing backup on their bikes, they spotted Ronnie closing the gap. Looking determined, the Doberman, riding into battle with no helmet or goggles, looked stern and focused as he raced towards them at close to ninety miles per hour. He swung the shotgun around and got ready.

One of the Oilers, a burly black wolf, tried to cut Ronnie off. He grabbed a nickel plated handgun and attempted to shoot at Ronnie. Backing away, Ronnie took aim and fired the 12 gauge one-handed; the recoil kicked like a mule, and Ronnie's shot went wide. He reloaded one handed and fired a second shot, which struck the bike in the back tire. Pellets blew the tire out, and the bike skidded out of control. Ronnie watched the biker hit the ditch and was thrown over the handlebars. The big wolf did at least three flips through the air, before he landed flat on his back. Glancing back, he did not get up.

The other biker tried to slam himself into Ronnie, just as he reloaded. The first hit knocked the shotgun out of Ronnie's grip, and he nearly lost control. As the gray wolf attempted to pull his gun, Ronnie slammed himself into the biker, and got close enough to punch him in the face. The biker got knocked off the bike, but not before it hit Ronnie, knocking him into a slide. The Doberman nearly lost control, and had no choice but to go off the road, onto a dirt access road for a farm field. Corn momentarily blocked his view as the access road followed the highway closely.

Colt took the lead, as he raced up on his chopper. He fired several shots, attempting to hit the tires. "HEY! PULL IT OVER MOTHERFUCKERS!" the white wolf yelled. He backed away, when a 12 gauge round blew out a side window of the SUV. Allison stuck her head out the window and frantically waved at them to help her, before she was pulled inside. Adam and Marty shot at the tires as well, but bullets just bounced off the sun bleached pavement.

Kicking up a cloud of dust behind him, Ronnie was violently jolted on the rough dirt road. He held the throttle open, and saw that the access road would take him back onto the highway. Spotting a small ramp, he slammed the throttle to maximum and ramped himself into the air. The Fatboy momentarily got airborne, long enough to clear a culvert. Ronnie ramped himself ahead of the Suburban, just as his tires made contact with the pavement with a screech and a puff of smoke. Now the Suburban was chasing him.

Swinging the shotgun around, Ronnie fired a blast, which tore through the front grille and hood. Steam erupted from the ruptured radiator, and the big SUV began to bleed out onto the road. He reloaded and fired a second shot, just as the driver tried to shoot at him. Ronnie fired a blind shot, which struck the windshield and severely cracked it. As he reloaded again, the back door opened, and he watched Allison throw herself clear at high speed. The lanky Allison landed hard on the pavement and rolled for quite a distance, getting cut up in the process. Ronnie slammed the brakes on and screeched past the out of control SUV. Ronnie stopped and fired one more shot, which blew out the back left tire. The SUV quickly lost control, struck a power line, bounced off, rolled over, and was flung off the side of a small bridge and into a creek. With a mighty crash, a big splash of water, and the sound of trees fracturing, the SUV came to grief with all the bikers inside.

Ronnie spun around and found Allison struggling to get up. She was bloodied all over, and her face was swollen from being beaten. She saw Ronnie, and quickly mustered the energy to run over to him.

"GET ON!" Ronnie called. Allison threw herself onto Ronnie's Fatboy, and they peeled out. Colt, Adam, and Marty spun around and followed behind.

"Oh my god I don't know how to thank you, Ron!" Allison exclaimed.

Ronnie glanced back at her with a fierce glare. "You're fuckin' lucky you're not dead!"

"Yeah I know!"

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Ronnie snapped at her. "What the fuck did you do to get fucking kidnapped by a bunch of Oilers?"

Allison looked desperate, frantic, all shook up. The Doberman wiped some blood off her nose, which smeared on her swollen, bloody face. "Tyler fucking forced himself on me, so in revenge, I like, stole all his drugs and shit, and then they started chasing me! I didn't think they'd do that!"

"Bitch are you this fucking stupid?" Ronnie yelled at her. "You're dating a fucking drug dealer for your fix, and then you fucking do this and act surprised they'd come after you!? You're lucky they didn't just fuckin' kill you on the spot and dump your lanky ass body somewhere!"

Ronnie's harsh words made Allison cry. She tried to wipe the tears out of her eyes as she held onto him. "I have a slight problem..."

"Slight!? I think that's a huge understatement!" Ronnie exclaimed. "You have a major fucking problem! It's called drug addiction!"

"You'll never understand-"

"YEAH! I do understand! My fucking girlfriend died of a drug overdose!" Ronnie shouted. "You know she looked like you, before all the meth and heroin aged your face. Misty never got to that point. She kept saying she never had a problem, no problem, no problem, no fucking problem. You know what happened to her? She shot up in her car in the parking lot of her workplace, and was found dead. She was found fucking dead in her car, by her boss, in the parking lot of her workplace. What's it going to take, Allison? What's it going to take to get your head out of your ass and realize what you're doing to yourself, and your family? You don't realize how worried and stressed you make your parents, your brothers and sisters? They all love and care about you, and you keep doing this to yourself. Stop blaming others for your fuckups."

Allison just sobbed. Ronnie grumbled and just kept quiet.

Returning back to the neighborhood, Ronnie stopped when he saw that the street had turned into a virtual crime scene. There were paramedics, dozens of Sheriff's deputies, a Swat team, and two FBI agents. Ronnie saw that Don, Killian, and Todd were handcuffed and kneeling under the supervision of a bunch of Swat officers.

"HEY STOP!" screamed a Swat officer. Ronnie stopped and threw his arms up when the officer aimed his Mp5 submachine gun at him. "Get off the fucking bike now! GET DOWN!"

Ronnie did what he demanded, and felt his arms get forcibly grabbed by another Swat officer and get ziptied together. Ronnie grumbled as he was forced up and dragged off, as was Colt, Adam, and Marty.

"Same shit, different day." Marty chuckled. "Hey! Easy on the arm, bud!"

Ronnie sat handcuffed with his friends. The entire street looked like a fiasco as crime scene investigators cordoned everything off and took pictures of everything. Every drop of blood, every shell casing, bullet hole, destroyed bike, was marked and photographed by investigators. Ronnie, Colt, Killian, Don, Todd, and Adam sat in the shade with Marty, looking down at the ground with glum faces. As they sat, they heard the Sheriff's argue with Talon, his sister, and Jason, trying to defend Ronnie and his friends from the criminal accusations that the police were throwing at them. Talon held onto his daughter and little Colt, who pleaded for his Dad to be released by a bunch of unsympathetic deputies. Periodically, Ronnie could hear Dale's voice flare up.

Dale stood off to the side with Deputy Hansen, a family friend of his. Dale looked frustrated as he stood talking to Hansen with his bloody arms crossed.

"Dale, I understand what you're saying, but this is standard procedure."

"You're treating these guys like they're a bunch of criminals."

"They crashed a Suburban and multiple bikers are severely injured." Hansen responded. "I understand you are trying to protect your daughter, but your daughter-"

"Yeah, she fucked up." Dale grumbled. "But if those guys didn't step and get her, she'd be dead."

"I know, I know, I get you, Dale. Look~ Let us look at the situation, and I'll see what I can do."

"If these guys go to jail, then I'm going to jail too, since I shot and severely injured that motherfucker." Dale pointed. "I mean it, Hansen! If they go, I go!"

"Alright."

"Where is my daughter at?"

"Being treated at the ambulance."

Dale quickly made his way over to the ambulance, where he saw Allison sitting on the curb, being cared for by two paramedics who were putting gauze pads on some of her wounds.

"Allison... baby girl..." Dale said.

"Dad... I don't know what to say."

"I know, honey." Dale nodded as he sat down beside her. "Allison, I don't know how to help you. I have tried, and I've tried, and I've tried for years to get you help. I don't know how to help you. I'm sure you don't know how to help yourself... But I want you to know that I love you. You're always going to be my baby girl. And it kills me on the inside to see you like this!"

"Dad, I don't know what to do..." Allison said, the tears welling up in her bloodshot eyes. She broke down crying, and Dale put his arms around her and pulled her into a tight hug.

"I don't know what to do either Allison. But I want you know that I love you. It kills me on the inside all the time to see you like this. Every phone call makes me worried because I'm afraid it's the call saying you're dead."

"I need help, Dad."

"Yes, you do. I want to help you, sweetie, but I don't know how."

Don nudged Todd and looked at him with an annoyed gaze on his face. "Man, this kinda sucks when your nose itches..."

"First time, huh?" Todd joked.

"Yeah, first time, huh, Don?" Ronnie snickered.

"Hey look..." big Colt motioned.

"Oh boy..." Ronnie muttered.

Emerging from the intersection was a giant, six wheeled APC, a Soviet BTR-70, painted dark green and bearing the name "BAREV" in white stenciling. It had a distinct rumble on it as it rolled up to a stop. In the hatch stood Rob Barion himself, who hopped out to confront the situation.

"I want those guys let go, now. They're with me." Rob demanded.

"Just who the fuck do you think you are?" A Sheriff's Deputy laughed. He shoved Rob back, only to get shoved himself into his cruiser.

"Back the fuck off." Rob pointed. A paw sat on his holstered Glock 20. "Those guys are with me."

Ronnie watched Rob put his neck out for them. Rob pointed, he argued, and after some back and forth, and a big discussion amongst everyone, the handcuffs came off, and they were allowed to wait on the porch. There was a big discussion between everyone on the street, before FBI Agent Dove came up to the porch to see everyone.

"Alright." The gray wolf announced. "Given the, convincing, testimony of your friend, there will be no charges filed against any of you. This was an act of self-defense, based upon testimony from Mister and Misses Bradley, and their children."

"How is Josh?" Ronnie asked.

"At the hospital. Leg is undergoing surgery. He'll live." Dove said to him in a rather dry tone. "I'd never thought I'd live to see a bunch of Hells Angels, save a girl's life from a rival biker gang..."

"Never say never~" Ronnie smirked. Dove's face did not deviate from the serious gaze.

"She most likely would have been murdered." Dove remarked. "But Allison is going to jail for drug possession."

"Do her some good." Ronnie shrugged.

"Humor me, Mister Samson. Why?" Dove asked.

"Why, what?"

"Why did you risk your life to save that girl?"

"She's my boyfriend's sister. She has a problem and she doesn't deserve to die."

"Don't ever do that again, please. Or I'll be back~" Dove pointed as he turned to leave. "You're all free to go."

Ronnie glanced over to see Allison be handcuffed and led to a police cruiser. He could hear Allison say she was worried, and Dale promising he would be there at the station to be with her. Ronnie looked at his friends and just shrugged with a bemused smirk on his face.

"It's crazy~" the Doberman laughed. They all had a cynical laugh about the whole thing.

"Ohio seems insane." Adam remarked.

"What a year." Ronnie remarked with a chuckle as he got a big hug from his son, who was happy that he was released from the handcuffs. Ronnie gave his son a hug and smiled at him, which helped calm him down from the entire fiasco.

One Week Later

Eastbound and fresh in from Chicago, Ronnie watched with Colt as Rob's Convairliner arrived on a steamy Tuesday evening. The polished, silver CV-440, christened "Explorer", rolled out to a crawl and taxied up to the tarmac. Its twin Double Wasps burbled under the cowlings as it turned and parked. The radials were powered down and the ground crew chocked the plane as the built in air stair deployed.

Emerging out was Todd, Colt, Killian, Adam, and Don. Dressed casually, Ronnie walked over to greet all of them and exchange hugs and laughs once again, as his friends had flown in to help Ronnie celebrate Rob's 40th birthday. Grabbing their music gear, they piled into Ronnie's truck and made their way back to Ronnie's place where his backyard was set up for a party.

"So anything new over the Oiler shitshow?" Adam asked from the backseat.

"Nah. They dropped the whole thing." Ronnie chuckled. "According to Dale, the Sheriff's are just gonna turn a blind eye to our shit, and focus on the Oilers, because they have been causing problems in the area with drugs and shit."

"See, that shit ain't worth it." Todd shook his head. "This is how you make money."

"The hard way." Ronnie snorted with a grin. "Drugs is easy money."

"Sadly." Adam chuckled. "Music's like art... art is pain."

"Yeah, exactly." Ronnie grimaced. "But sure better than what happened to some of them Oilers~ We fucked them up good."

"Oh yeah?" big Colt asked.

"Tyler, Allison's now ex-boyfriend, well... he won't be riding anymore, since he's now in a wheelchair."

"Ouch."

"Another dude broke his back when he flipped off the bike, and the guys in the SUV, Tyler included, were all fucked up in the impact."

"Well they hit that fuckin' pole at like eighty miles per hour and then flipped into the ditch." Chuckled Colt as he adjusted his backwards turned hat. "Fuck around, find out!"

"Yeppers!" Ronnie laughed. "Apparently I made the Akron chapter very impressed."

"Well yeah, you just fucked their rival's day up." Chuckled Killian.

"They were very impressed."

"So when are you getting patched?"

"Soon~ They're dealing with some stupid legal shit."

"Oh god." Todd rolled his eyes. "Same shit, different day for us~"

"Yeah." Ronnie chuckled. "Just the headaches that come with the territory."

Returning to his house, Ronnie and his friends began to mingle with their guests as people came for the birthday party. Ronnie invited Rob and his family, and their friends. The Mathesons came over with some food, and Ronnie served everyone food and refreshments. Soon Rob and his twin-brother Jake came, and everyone got situated for some cake.

Ronnie emerged from the kitchen with a big yellow sheet cake that he had baked. He iced the top and it read "HAPPY 4-0 ROB AND JAKE!" Rob and Jake looked happy at it as they got their photos taken with the cake, which glowed with 40 red and blue candles stabbed into it. Everyone clapped as Ronnie and his friends all sang Rob and Jake "Happy Birthday". They made a wish and blew it out to everyone's cheers. Rob cut the cake up and everyone got to enjoy a slice of cake as the party went on.

Ronnie sat with Rob and ate some cake with him. "I gotta tell you Rob. You and Varg saved our careers, and you saved my life. I don't know how I can ever repay you!"

"Don't worry about it." Rob shrugged.

"I was just a complete stranger when you met me and helped me, so why? I'm curious." Ronnie asked.

"Because it's always safe to do right." Rob stated in a simple way. "I believe that people show their true colors, and you were very warm and accepting of us when we met. And I believed you, and you showed me you are. So when you needed help, I had the ability to help you, so that's that."

"Ah."

"It's what we're supposed to do. Help your fellow man." Rob shrugged.

"Yeahhhhhhhh...." Ronnie chuckled.

"Yeah. Exactly." Rob smiled with a snort.

"How's it feel to be forty?" Ronnie grinned.

"Like another nail added to my coffin." Rob joked morbidly.

Ronnie had one more gift for Rob. At his makeshift stage, Ronnie and his friends donned their instruments and announced they had a song for Rob and his brother. Maverick and Marcus, with their video crew, took aim with their BVP-3 Betacam's as Ronnie announced they would sing Bob Dylan's "License to Kill". Don smacked his sticks together to get the timing, and started the opening note. Todd, Killian, and Colt filled in the rest with their guitars and bass.

"Man thinks 'cause he rules the earth he can do with it as he please

And if things don't change soon, he will

Oh, man has invented his doom

First step was touching the moon.

Now there's a woman on my block

She just sit there as the night grows still

She say who gonna take away his license to kill?"

Ronnie glanced over a smiled at Rob, who looked like he was enjoying himself as he slowly ate another slice of cake with his brother and husband.

"Now, he's hell-bent for destruction, he's afraid and confused

And his brain has been mismanaged with great skill

All he believe are his eyes

And his eyes, they just tell him lies.

But there's a woman on my block

Sitting there in a cold chill

She say who gonna take away his license to kill ?

Ya may be a noisemaker, spirit maker

Heartbreaker, backbreaker

Leave no stone unturned

May be an actor in a plot

That might be all that you got

'Til your error you clearly learn."

Ronnie finished the song up as everyone gave him a big round of applause and cheer. Ronnie gave a graceful, but sarcastic bow with his friends and laughed. He looked at his friends, who all looked as happy and euphoric as him. He peered over at his yard full of new friends, his neighbors, everyone applauding and looking happy. The Dober knew he had made it big. From being almost destitute, and barely keeping his head above the water just a few months before, he had clawed his way back with some generous help. The future felt brighter for him as he basked in all the love from his friends.

Epilogue:

Placing a slice of cold ham on some sandwich bread, Ronnie put a big leaf of lettuce on it. He smeared some mayonnaise on the other slice of bread with some mustard and placed it together and wrapped it in some plastic wrap. He placed it into Colt's space themed lunchbox, complete with a red apple and a juice box. A small bag of gummy bears completed Colt's school lunch as he got his son ready for his first day of school as a first grader. Sitting around in the living room were his friends and band mates, ready to ride with Ronnie to his patching ceremony up in Akron.

Colt emerged from his room wearing a gray polo shirt and khaki shorts with new shoes. Ronnie laughed and knelt down and fixed his collar and brushed his light brown hair. "There ya go!"

"Oh! That's how you wear the collar!"

"Yeah!" Ronnie smiled. "My god. You're a first grader now."

"Yeah!"

"Time has really flown lil' man~" Ronnie chuckled.

"I'm all ready!"

"Gimme one sec!" Ronnie said as he went to his bedroom.

Stepping into his bedroom, Ronnie got himself ready. He shoved his wallet and keys into his black leather pants, and grabbed his bandanna that sat atop his vest on his bed. He tied the dark blue bandanna over his head and fixed his long locks of hair that flowed out from beneath. Going to get his vest, he looked a bit sad as he glanced down at it.

For many years, his vest bore the "Chicago" patch at the bottom. For almost nine years, he was a member of the Chicago Hells Angels chapter, just like his late father. But like his late father, it was time to get a new patch, which would read "Ohio". The old patch was gently removed, leaving a residual shape where the leather was a bit darker. Ronnie had mailed it back to Chicago. He was accepted into the Akron chapter of the Hells Angels, in a unanimous vote in his favor. Now he'd be part of the Akron pack. Today would be the day he'd be officially patched by the chapter.

Throwing his vest on, over his white tanktop, Ronnie grabbed his riding gloves and shoved his paws into them. He exited the room to get ready to take Colt to school, literally across the street. Everyone hopped on their bikes and they took off to make the short hop over to Johnny Clem Elementary School. It was late August, and the dog days of summer were oppressively sticky and hot. The clock just struck seven-thirty and it was already a sweltering morning as the sun slowly rose in the hazy skies to the east.

Parents watched in shock and awe as Ronnie and his friends came roaring up into the parking lot. Ronnie parked his bike and hopped off with Colt. He carried his lunch box with him as Colt ran ahead of him, through the glass doors of the elementary school. Ronnie followed him to his classroom, which was across the hall from the classroom that Mindy taught in.

"Morning Colt!" smiled Mindy.

"Morning Mindy!"

"Now Colt..." smiled Mindy.

"Oh! Morning, Misses Matheson~"

"There you go." She laughed. "Colty! I hope you have a good first day!"

"I hope so too!"

"You must be Colt!" came his teacher.

"Morning Misses Johnson!"

"Good morning! And welcome to your first day as a first grader!" exclaimed the white wolfess with a happy smile on her face. She looked up at Ronnie, who looked happy for his son.

"You must be Mister Samson~" she smiled.

Ronnie held out a gloved paw, which she shook. "You can just call me Ronnie~"

"Ronnie, I've heard a lot about you and your son, and I look forward to meeting with you at parent teacher conferences."

"I have a lot of faith in Colt. He's gonna do great." Ronnie smiled at his son. "Alright, Colty! I have to go now. I'll pick you up after class and tell me all about it!"

"Sure!" Colt grinned as he gave his Dad a hug. He turned to run into the classroom.

"Hey lil' man!" laughed the Dober. "What did you forget?"

"Oh!" laughed the kid as he ran back to get his lunch box. "I don't know what I'd do without you, Dad!"

"Heh, I say the same thing." Smiled Ronnie as he ruffled Colt's hair. "I don't think I'd be alive today if it wasn't for you."

"Same here." Colt smiled as he hugged his Dad one final time.

"I love you, Colty."

"Love you too, Dad!"

Ronnie gave his son a warm, snug hug, and wished him well as he watched him run off to meet his new classmates.

"You have a safe trip, Ronnie." Mrs. Johnson smiled at him. "Have a great day~"

"You too. Thank you~"

Leaving the school, and feeling everyone's surprised gaze on him, Ronnie hopped back onto his bike. Exiting the parking lot with a thunderous roar, Ronnie and his friends made their way onto the highway, where they were soon joined up by Marty, and some fellow Hells Angels from the Akron and Cleveland chapters. Exiting Newark, the giant convoy made their way north-east towards Coshocton, to reach I-77.

Ronnie led the pack on the highway, and everyone got out of their way as they roared on by. As he drove with his friends and fellow Angels, he thought about everything that had happened to him. It felt like a hurricane at times, a period of vast change in his life. From being a step above homelessness, cash strapped, down on his luck, working an exhausting, dead-end job, constantly worried about his son's wellbeing, to now having the dream job he always wanted, making nearly six figures, with a perfect house to call his home. And it all happened because of some random people's generosity, and his blind leap into fate when he had nothing left to lose.

His dreams of making it big seemed like a possibility again. Their concert paid off; it was still being talked about in some music circles, and it gave them their first live album that Varg planned to release around the holidays. The pre-order sold out quickly. Even Ronnie's EP got talked about, and it being released online got brisk sales. It's pop sound was a bit strange to Hard Times' loyal fans, but the story Ronnie told thorough his covers were popular. It felt like a strange closure to the Doberman, who faced crises after crises in his life over the past half-decade. Hard Times was now theirs again, and they planned on dusting off the concept of their original third album, to do next year.

On a personal level, Ronnie was happy that he had himself a wonderful boyfriend in Talon. A very supportive, level headed, self-sufficient guy who he genuinely loved. Talon repaired the hurt that he held in his heart after his girlfriend, his one true love. Of course their relationship would have to be an open secret, but Ronnie didn't care, and neither did Talon; they didn't live for other people's validations. And in a twisted, ironic way, Ronnie helped the Bradley family in his efforts to save Allison's life from being kidnapped by the Oilers. Allison was beginning drug rehab again, and this time, motivated by being sexually assaulted and nearly being murdered, was beginning to pay dividends as Allison slowly began the long arduous process of rehab. Perhaps she had a future as well.

Glancing over his shoulders at the army of roaring red and whites all behind him, Ronnie smiled and pressed ahead towards Coshocton. He felt happy about his future. It felt safe again. As he rode into the glare of the morning sun, Ronnie hoped that he would make his grandpa and father proud.

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