Topping that, their president was a double amputee and couldn’t ride a bike, not to mention, to hide that indigestible fact, his VP had swapped out his rag to make everyone else believe he was the prez when meeting other clubs.
It hadn’t been a short-term deception. Instead, they’d been fooling all the other chapters for ten years.
Once things had come to light, as deceit and lies so often will, Drummer had called a meeting of all the chapter prezes and VPs, and together they’d sorted the whole mess out, to theirs, if not my, satisfaction.
Emotions had run high after Lost and Dart had returned and informed us of what had been discussed and what was agreed. Pip, the man who couldn’t ride, was relegated to being the club advisor, and Snatcher, who’d we thought was the prez all along, became that for real. Oh, and this one really sits in my craw—what I can’t understand is that they’d allowed a woman member, and she had become the fucking enforcer no less.
I don’t care what her fucking capabilities are, no way are we allowing females into the San Diego club. Though apparently, Satan’s Devils regulations don’t prohibit it, just lead to the assumption we are a males-only MC. Women members? Over my dead fucking body comes to mind.
Once we’d absorbed all that, there was more. The fucking icing on the cake was that the sniper who took Alder out, the man our prez had a very personal reason for wanting to question and had been robbed of the chance by the bullet to his head, was none other than Stormy, a member of the aforesaid Utah club.
Alder had been after Patsy, Lost’s old lady now, but we didn’t know for what reason. In case there was anything that hadn’t died with the man, Lost had needed to learn what he could before he dispatched him to meet Satan. Was anyone else coming for Patsy?
Stormy’s admittedly impressive head shot from a distance had stopped us getting answers that would give Prez and Patsy peace of mind.
“What’s the news about Stormy?” Salem, our own enforcer, asks, as though he’s plucked the thought out of my head. Yeah, he too was robbed of a chance to put his skills to use. He also has no love for the man he’d never met.
“Still in the wind,” Prez answers, his face grim.
It had transpired that it wasn’t only us who had issues with Stormy, even his own chapter hadn’t been impressed with his behaviour. He’d gone rogue, had acted without his prez’s agreement, not once, but twice, causing a rift with the other chapters. He had to be punished.
If left to me, he’d have been sent out in bad standing, but the assembled presidents and VPs at that meeting in Utah agreed that he was to indeed lose his patch, but would have a chance to regain it if he went back to being a prospect for six months and proved himself all over again. Oh, and a beatdown had been ordered as well, but before the sentence could be carried out, leaving behind his precious cut, Stormy had taken off on his bike and disappeared. No one has seen or heard from him since.
“It’s been what, four weeks now?” Salem’s frowning. “What’s Snatcher doing about it?”
Lost grimaces. “You’d think with all the tracking skills Utah has, they’d have been able to find him, but they can’t find a trace of the man. Snatcher’s losing his patience, but he’s giving him three months to get his head straight and still hopes he’ll come back. If he doesn’t put in an appearance and take his punishment like a man, he’s out bad.”
Dart growls. “He’ll deserve it.”
“Getting back to Alder.” Token raises his hand. “I got Utah’s man Duty to send me all the information they had. I’ve been through it a few times, and I think they’re right. Alder’s organisation died with him, and I concur Patsy is safe now.”
This is good news. I like Lost’s old lady. She’s a good influence on the prez. He seems to have grown in self-confidence since she’s had his back. When I’d first met her, I had my doubts as to how she would settle into MC life, but she’s surprised me. She’s only a few years younger than me, will become a grandmother in a few months, but her outlook on life is youthful, if not downright surprising at times. She doesn’t blink an eye when Kink brings one of his ‘pets’ naked into the clubroom, she just laughs.
“I’ll cross the item off the agenda.” Lost circles back to the suggestion he’d made a few minutes before, while breathing out a sigh of satisfaction. There can be no doubt about how much he feels for Patsy and wouldn’t want to lose her. “Any other business?”
I glance around, hoping there’s not. It’s been a standard meeting. Updates from businesses have been given and discussed, Salem’s new premises for customising bikes is up, running and doing well now, the tattoo parlour’s gaining in reputation, the shop selling bike apparel has increased its profits and our bar is proving popular with weekend warriors and non-bikers alike. All good stuff. But if anyone raises their hand in this part of the meeting, it’s usually because something is off. Me? I’m all for a quiet life. Long may it continue.
I glance across at Niran when no one speaks, I raise my chin to him. When I was injured and recovering, Niran had become my right hand, taking on my duties as sergeant-at-arms. We’d developed a good working relationship, and I rely on him a
