Chapter 3
Ilook around the table at all the men I came here to lead. A few faces look hopeful, but most of ‘em are deflated, and when I pick up the gavel and slam it to get everyone's full attention I suddenly remember that I don’t have a fuckin’ plan. I’m supposed to be the answer to all their problems. The man who will make this charter great, but all I can think about now that I'm back here are all the bad memories I left behind.
“You all know why I’m here.” I make a start, cursing Wrath in my head for not being beside me for this, we were supposed to be in this together. “I see some of you around the table who I know. Some of you I don’t,” I look to Ruckus and Sasquatch who were both here when I left ten years ago. Ruckus was just a prospect then, and I’ve heard that he’s come a long way. Jimmer Carson sure had a lot of positive things to say about him.
“Those who don’t know me will come to learn that I’m a simple man. I don’t tolerate bullshit. I value loyalty and fuckin’ hate lies. Forgiveness ain’t my strong point so don’t cross me and we’ll all get on just fine.” I light myself a smoke and draw back on it. “Now, I know Jimmer asked this when he was here a few months ago, but I’m gonna give y’all one last out. If there is anyone around this table who ain’t prepared to follow my orders and do whatever's needed to get this charter outta the gutter, drop your cut on the table and head out the door. Life's about to get hard enough, and we don’t need to be draggin’ dead weight outta the sinkin’ sand. There will be changes, changes that a lot of you ain’t gonna like, and if you can’t look to your left and your right and be sure that you’d take a bullet for the man in that seat…you don’t belong at my table.”
Ruckus sits back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest as he surveys the others' reactions. I haven’t learned much about the men that I’ve got to work with here yet. I spent last night in my beach hut, with a bottle of Jack trying to straighten out my head instead of makin’ nice. But I will come to know these brothers, I will learn their strengths and have ‘em work on their weaknesses. Any man who can accept some hard truths and is prepared to improve himself will do well from the change that's coming.
“I’m opening the table up to any questions.” I sit down in the chair that used to be Cliff’s and wait to hear their concerns. One of the younger brothers at the back is the first to hold up his hand.
“What kinda changes are you thinkin’ about puttin’ in place?” He speaks so quietly I can hardly hear him.
“What do I call ya?” I look at him.
“Saul,” he tells me confidently, looking interested in what I have to say.
“Well, Saul, for a start, this ain’t gonna be an every man for himself set up no more. No secrets, no cuttin’ deals between little groups. Any work we do, we do as a club and every member gets an equal cut.”
“What if I’m the one who got us the contact?” The guy sitting beside him asks.
“You don’t have contacts, we have contacts. And right now the only person we should be focused on pleasing is Raoul Burlusconi,” I remind them all. Burlusconi has worked closely with the club ever since he took over from his father. He’s our main source of income and it’s my understanding that Cliff really fucked things up when he started taking on work from Burlusconi’s rivals.
Lucky for us our club founder had a good relationship with Raoul and talked him into giving us a second chance. I’m sure the two locked-up Lambroni brothers, and the one they delivered to him to torture, also had a little to do with it, but that's not the point. We won’t get a third chance to fuck this up.
“I have a meeting with Burlusconi tomorrow,” I add, already dreading it. I ain’t the kinda man who kisses ass, but I know that keeping Burlusconi sweet has to be my main agenda.
“Who’s your sergeant?” The dark-haired guy who’s sitting next to Ruckus asks. And without even asking I know he’s the one they call Dev. I’ve heard a lot about him over the years too. He’s an enforcer, who was trained by my dad and you can see that from the darkness in his eyes and the way he carries himself. Apparently, he’s got a real hot head on his shoulders. He’s also another man who Jimmer assured me I could trust.
“Ruckus.” I look to the one man around the table who I know I can put all my faith in. He’s been running things here since Cliff disappeared and since I already decided that Wrath is gonna be my VP, there's no one else I’d rather have as my sergeant at arms. Ruckus nods to accept the role, and I move us on to the next line of business.
“Well, we’re talkin’ ‘bout positions. You should know we’re also gettin’ a new prospect.” I notice how a few of them frown suspiciously.
“That’s somethin’ we usually take a vote on.” The one I’ve heard everyone call Griller folds his arms over his chest, trying to call me out, and the guy sitting beside him, who I assume is his brother Greaser, because they look alike, smiles as if he’s impressed by it. Jimmer warned me about the two of ‘em when we last spoke on the phone. They have stuck around since the take-down but he had his suspicions that they supported Cliff. Still, I have to keep my mind open and give everyone a chance.
“It is, but this person is someone you all know. Someone who’s been part of the club his whole life and he deserves his shot. Ruck, go get Sonny for me.”
Ruckus looks a little surprised, but he stands up all the same and makes his way to the door.
“You’ve gotta be kiddin’?” Vike, the charter’s treasurer chuckles, while Saint and Sasquatch stare across at each other in confusion.
“Sonny.” I nod my head at the kid when he steps through the door and stands in front of us all. Anyone can see that he’s nervous as hell.
He looks up at me and gives me a half smile before his eyes glance around all the brothers.
“Oh, come on, Raze this has to be a fuckin’ joke. This kid ain’t cut out to be a Soul, look at him.” Griller adds another two cents, and the mouthy fucker is already testing my patience.
“Sonny was born right here on this compound.” I look at Polly’s son and can’t help feeling sorry for him. Kid never did know who his father was, and I don’t know what name was written on his birth certificate, but everyone around here has called him Sonny since the day he was born.
“Your mommy know ya here?” Greaser pouts at him, and I wait for everyone to stop laughing before I take the Prospect cut from under the table and walk toward him.
“Just like every one of us did, he will learn, and he will earn his place. Now every prospect needs a sponsor, who here’s gonna help turn this boy into a man?” I look around the table and see no enthusiasm. The silence is deafening, and when Sonny drops his eyes back to the floor in shame I start to regret agreeing to Polly’s request.
“I got him.” Sasquatch eventually holds up his hand, and although his face shows that he ain’t too pleased about it, I’m hella relieved he stepped up.
“There ya go.” I place the cut on the kid’s shoulders and tap him on the back.
Then, figuring that there ain’t no other questions I pick up the gavel again.
“Good talk, now I’ve got some people to see today. We need to strengthen our outside sources. Be ready to work hard and get tested because we got a big mess to clean up.” I slam the gavel and head for the doors that lead back to the bar. Rocco, the prospect who’s sitting on the other side of ‘em jumps outta his skin when they swing open.
“Prez.” He quickly stands to attention. “There’s errrmmm… there's someone here to see ya.” He scratches the back of his head awkwardly as his eyes flick sideways, and when I follow them across the barroom. I’m shocked by what I see.
“Hi.” The girl who ran down my bike yesterday afternoon is standing in the middle of the clubhouse holding a basket of fuckin’ muffins in her hands and smiling at me.
“What ya doin’ here?” I ask as one by one the brothers follow me outta church, all of them gawking at her like they ain’t ever seen a female before.
“I’m the one who… I accidentally reversed into your bike yesterday.”
“I know who ya are, that's not what I asked,” I remind her.
“Oh,” She laughs at herself and looks down as if she suddenly remembered what she’s holding.
“I got these for you… To say sorry.” She holds the handle out to me and smiles brightly. Her cheeks are flushing pink and her eyelashes flutter like she’s nervous, and for a second I stare at her wondering if she’s even fuckin’ real. Though I quickly get distracted by the fact I have an eleven-man audience. All of them with smart-assed smirks on their faces.
“Come with me.” I snatch the damn basket out of her hands, narrowing my eyes at them all as I lead her into the office at the back of the clubhouse that I figure belongs to me now. It smells of cheap weed and stale booze in here and when I slam the basket of muffins on the desk and spin around I swear the girl looks like she’s about to cry on me.
“Look, I appreciate the thought and all, but you shouldn’t have come here.” I slide my hand through my hair in frustration, wondering what's got me so riled up about this girl I don’t know showing up here.
“Well, I didn’t know where else to find you.” A smile creeps onto her lips, as she looks up at me shyly and tucks some of her long brown hair behind her ear. It’s a dangerous smile and one that almost has me smiling myself.
I quickly shake my head and try to focus on something other than how pretty she is. The girl barely looks outta high school and she’s far too young to be in a place like this.
“I haven’t got any money to pay for damages and I…”
“Don’t worry yaself about it. It’s done. There’s hardly any damage. Just be on your way and don’t think on it again.” I gesture my head to the door, and she looks over her shoulder at it before turning her head back to face me.
“I was…” She clears her throat as if she’s building up to something. “I was going to ask, while I was here, if you had any work.”
“Work?” I almost fuckin’ choke.
“Yeah, I’m new in town and I’m all out of cash. I see you have a motel and a… bar.” She seems a little hesitant on the bar part, and I can forgive her confusion. This building we’re standing in doesn’t look much like a bar, it’s a glorified fuckin’ shack. “I’m a fast learner. I can clean, I can make beds and I can serve drinks.” She tries selling herself.
“Trust me darlin’ you don’t wanna job here.” I laugh at her as I make my way to the door to open it for her.
“Wait…” she calls out, and when she steps toward me and places her hand over mine so she can close it again, I’m so thrown off by how her skin feels on mine that I actually let her.
“I wouldn’t ask if I wasn’t desperate. I have a car with no gas and about forty dollars to my name. I need a job and a place to stay. Can you help me?” She looks up, pleading with those big, beautiful, green eyes that I could easily allow to swallow me up and spit me back out. I watch her chest rise and fall like her whole life is depending on my answer and something that feels a lot like empathy creeps itself under my skin.
“No.” I shake my head, and when her eyes close and disappointment takes over the hope in her expression, I reach into my cut for my wallet.
“Here’s…” I flick through cash in my hand, “...two hundred. Get yourself out of town. You seem like a smart girl, and if all that you just said is true, you’ll find work easy enough,” I assure her, crushing the bills into her hand, then forcing her out the door. Three of the brothers who are lurking beside it see her with the money stuffed in her hand and immediately start whooping and cheering like teenagers.
“You made fast work outta that, Boss.” Saul pats me on the back while the others block the girl’s path and stalk around her like hungry wolves.
“Let the girl leave,” I call over the noise and snarl at them, taking the girl by her shoulders and marching her out the front door.
“I can’t just take your money,” she protests, turning her body into mine and trying to give it back but I keep her moving across the yard, toward the parking lot, leaving a trail of dollar bills behind us.
“I didn’t come here for a handout. If you just give me a chance…” I stop when I get to the car that I recognise from outside the diner. I must have been too distracted by her yesterday to notice the state it’s in. This thing can’t be road worthy, it looks as if it’s held together by Duct Tape and fuckin’ hope.
“There must be something here you can have me do. I’ll wash dishes, I’ll even clean the?—”
“Have you been sleepin’ in your car?” I cut her off when I notice a sleeping bag on the backseat. Her cheeks flush pink again, and her eyes drop to the ground like she’s ashamed.
“Answer the fuckin’ question.” I take a calming breath when she refuses to speak. She eventually gives a subtle nod of her head and I scrub my hand over my face, trying to talk myself out of what I’m considering.
“Jesus Christ.” I shake my head and rip open her car door, taking the bag I see on the passenger seat and flinging it over my shoulder. I march toward the gate at the end of the parking lot that leads down to the beach to avoid having to go back through the clubhouse with her, and when I notice that she ain’t followin’ I turn around.
“Ya just gonna stand there gawkin’ or are ya comin’?” I call out to her and when she shows me that smile and races after me I continue heading toward my beach hut. I’m mad at myself for what I’m doing here and the girl has to practically run to keep up with my strides. When we get to the porch of my hut, I open the door, step through it, and toss her bag on the couch.
“You can stay here tonight, but on one condition.” I turn around and see her staring back at me with the same shocked look she had on her face back in the parking lot. “You stay here. You do not go to the club.” I point my finger at her so she knows I mean it.
“Okay.” She nods her head back at me enthusiastically. “And tomorrow, you take the money I give you, you fill up your gas tank and you get the hell outta here. No good ever came from girls like you hangin’ out at a place like this.” I warn her.
“And what kinda girl do you think I am?” She takes me by surprise when she steps closer, a little too fuckin’ close.
I can smell the coconut shampoo in her hair, and I’m already imagining gripping it in my fist while I find out what those lips taste like.
“You’re the kinda girl who brings a fuckin’ basket of muffins to a bikers club house.” I remind her, pushing all those kinda thoughts to the back of my mind as I move past her toward the door.
“Wait, where are you going?” She suddenly sounds afraid.
“I’ll get one of the girls from the clubhouse to bring you somethin’ to eat. There ain’t much here but help yourself to whatever you need. Just remember what I said.” I snatch my bike keys from the table.
“No going to the clubhouse.” She repeats my words in a sweet soft voice and the way she swings on her heels and looks at me suggests she’s being sarcastic. It makes the urge to take her over my knee and slap the sass outta her tight, little ass hard to resist. But I refrain and continue to head for the door.
“Peyton,” she calls out in a high desperate voice.
“Huh?” I turn back around and catch her lookin’ embarrassed.
“My name is Peyton. I figured since I’m staying here you should know it.” She smiles, at me the same way she did when she was offering me those fuckin’ muffins and I really have to push the thoughts that come into my head back where they came from
“Just stay outta trouble. Peyton.” I move out the door, questioning both my willpower and my fuckin’ sanity.