Chapter 3
Axel
I ’d spent the past week or so keeping my head down and my nose clean.
Ever since that night at the Neon Groove , I hadn’t felt the same.
I don’t know exactly what it was about seeing Bryce and Tracey again, but something deep inside me changed.
To cope, I had thrown myself into earning my patch.
Nothing else mattered right now. This was my full-time job, my all-consuming mission.
More importantly, it was a way of not allowing myself to drift back into memories of Tracey.
She wasn’t mine to love and I’ll be damned if I was gonna go sniffing around another man’s wife.
Nor was I gonna torture myself over a woman who chose my rich friend over me years ago.
Today, I arrived at the clubhouse early in the morning and checked my duty assignment for the day.
There was nothing written beside my name.
I checked my messages and again found nothing.
That likely meant I had the day off. I wasn’t quite stupid enough to think giving me the day off meant the club didn’t need an extra pair of hands, so I got busy organizing breakfast for the brothers.
Havoc came out to the back patio where I was busy putting sausage on the grill. When he didn’t speak, I glanced up to find him casually leaning against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest.
“What’s up, Havoc? Are you starving or what? I can pull you together something to eat fast if you are.”
“You’re the prospect that’s always eager to serve and going the extra mile,” he said bluntly.
I eyed him suspiciously because that’s what I understood the job description for a prospect to be.
Jamie came to the door and edged around him because he was the one assigned to make breakfast today. He wasn’t privy to our cryptic conversation, so he glanced nervously from me to Havoc and back again before mumbling, “Thanks for getting the grill fired up this morning, Alvin.”
“Anytime. I’m not on the schedule today, so I thought I’d lend a hand.”
“Leave the cooking to Jamie,” Havoc said gruffly. “Come with me.” When he jerked his head for me to follow, I took a minute to wipe my hands and trailed along behind him, unsure what this was all about.
Once we were inside the clubhouse, he turned to talk to me. Havoc wasn’t one to waste words. Since getting his patch, he’d become serious and all business. When he spoke, it usually meant work. But today his expression told me something different was going on.
“You’re coming to church with me today,” he announced plainly.
He studied me a moment longer before he explained his train of thought, “I’ve been watching how you operate.
You come early and leave late. You keep your mouth shut, are the first to step up when something needs to be done, and most importantly, you don’t fucking complain.
I like those qualities in a brother. You’ve earned my respect. I’m gonna nominate you for your patch.”
Pride surged through my chest, but I tried not to show too much emotion. “I appreciate you recognizing all my hard work. That means a lot to me. I’m ready to wear the patch. I won’t let you down, brother.”
He gave me one succinct nod. “See that you don’t. Church is five-thirty this evening. Show up on time, ya hear?”
“Of course. I’ll be there before the door closes.”
As he disappeared into Storm’s office, I stood there for a minute trying to get my head around the fact that it was finally happening.
The brothers were finally gonna judge me on my readiness to wear the Dark Slayers’ patch.
Being part of the brotherhood had been my one and only goal during these long months of constant grinding to prove my worth.
All the sweat, risking my life, and putting in the hours were finally about to pay off.
I walked out to the bar and slid onto one of the worn barstools.
I drummed my fingers on the top of the bar as I remembered all the things that brought me to this day.
I spent months guarding the front gate, even on bitter winter nights.
I’d helped guard Havoc’s old lady, done whatever was asked of me, and then some.
Rosie looked surprised when she saw me sitting at the bar. “You’re usually running your ass off, Alvin. Did you finally decide to grab a cup of coffee before you got started this morning?”
“Yeah, coffee would be great, Rosie.”
She set the box down, washed her hands, and poured me a cup of morning brew. “You aren’t looking so good today, Alvin. I’m here if you want to talk about what’s bothering you.”
I took the cup from her hand and leaned over to inhale the strong scent. The smell alone was enough to jumpstart my brain. “It’s nothing, Rosie. My life just has a lot of moving parts right now.”
She pulled the box open and started stocking the shelf behind the bar with bottles of vodka. “If you change your mind, just let me know.”
“Thanks, Rosie. Thunder did good when he made you his old lady.”
She flashed me a quick grin, tucking a strand of red hair behind her ear. “All the brothers say that. I think you’re all just trying to be polite.”
“Trust me, most of us would like to find a good woman like you, one who understands club culture and is our ride or die.”
She chuckled as she started breaking down the box. “That’s a good way to describe me. I’m definitely Thunder’s ride or die.”
When she left to get more stock from the storage room, I started running through what I was gonna say when Havoc nominated me. Usually, the prospect gives a little speech. It’s my one chance to get the brothers to vote for me.
I ran through ideas in my mind but ended up discarding most of them as being too formal, not convincing enough, or just plain stupid. After a while, I decided to stick with something simple and honest. The way I saw it, the brothers either wanted me, or they didn’t. There’s no sense begging.
***
That evening, the clubhouse quickly filled with brothers, the way it always did when there was church.
I followed Havoc in and claimed a seat right beside him.
Quelling my anxiety by sheer strength of will alone, I sat rigidly with my arms crossed over my chest. My prospect’s vest stood out amongst all the full patches in the room.
Storm strode into the room last, his big body radiating authority. He glanced around the room then sat with the club officers at a long table in the front.
“Brothers, we got business, and we’d best get right down to it.”
Around the room, everyone sat up straighter and gave him their full attention.
Storm stated, “The first thing on the agenda is always old business.”
He talked for ten minutes or so about the various ongoing issues our club has. Other than the fact I was nervous as hell about being there, it was interesting to see this side of club life.
After that, Storm turned to our Sergeant-at-Arms. “Breaker, why don’t you give us a rundown on what’s going on with Twisted Metal?”
Breaker leaned forward, and his expression was serious. “Steel got messed up bad in that cage fight. He won the match but was hospitalized. Word on the street is his doctor ain’t sure he’ll ever fully recover. If he does, he might not be strong enough to run the club again.”
Whispers started up around the room. Storm growled, “Shut up and listen. That ain’t all that’s going on with Twisted Metal MC.”
Breaker continued. His tone was grave. “Their VP tried to step up but was immediately challenged by one of the assholes Steel should have put out of the club long ago. Unfortunately, he lost. You already know all of their challenges are settled in a cage match, where two men enter but only one leaves. Their VP didn’t make it out alive.
That means the Twisted Metal MC is back in enemy hands. ”
Storm leaned forward in his chair, putting his elbows on the table.
He said roughly, “We all know what this means. Twisted Metal’s gonna go back to all the bad shit Steel steered them away from.
That includes the sale of drugs and running illegal firearms inside the city limits of Griffinsford again.
And if history repeats, they’ll start trafficking women, too. ”
The tension in the meeting room spiked noticeably. At this point it was pretty damn clear that we’d eventually end up in a club war over this because there was no way we were gonna let them go back to doing that shit in our hometown. This was a threat that none of us could ignore.
Storm wrapped up the Twisted Metal conversation by saying, “It’s gonna be a rough fucking ride but, in the end, we’ll do what needs to be done to protect our families from the kind of shit they want to drag into Griffinsford.
Let’s move on with updates on our club businesses.
” Jerking his chin at his cousin, he said, “Celt, why don’t you talk to us about how the security firm is doing? ”
Celt sighed. “I ain’t been in the driver’s seat very long but the security firm is almost fully booked for three months out. We’re gettin’ referrals, and I’ve got a couple of stable, long-term clients I’m negotiatin’ with. All in all, everything looks good.”
“Good work, cousin. I knew you were the right man for the job because you love doing the massive amount of paperwork that job entails.”
“You can feck all the way off with that shite.”
I noticed Celt’s Irish accent got stronger when he was pissed.
Havoc stated, “I guess that just leaves me. The garage is mostly booked for the next few months. I’m negotiating to provide fleet maintenance for a local delivery service. They have about thirty vehicles. Fleet services are always lucrative, so we’ll have to see how that goes.”
Thunder wrapped it all up by giving a report on each business the club was associated with, then announced, “All club businesses are in the black, and dues are coming in on time. I’m not seeing anything that gives me cause to worry.”
Storm gave one approving nod. “Good. We can move onto new business.” His eyes cut towards Havoc. “You talked to me about patching in one of the prospects, so I’m giving you the floor.”
Havoc didn’t hesitate. “Thank you, Storm. I’m nominating Alvin for full membership. He’s dedicated, has good judgment, and has proven himself several times over. The latest of which was protecting my old lady when she was being stalked. He’s walked into danger with us and fought by our side.”
Storm’s gaze landed on me. “Your turn to speak for yourself, Prospect. Tell us why you ought to wear our patch.”
I stood and turned to speak to my club brothers.
“You’ve all seen me. I’ve worked my ass off this last year, proved that I’ll show up, shut up, and do the job right.
I’ve backed you in a fight, guarded what matters, and pulled my weight every single day.
The way I see it, you either value my contribution, or you don’t.
You either want me as your brother, or you don’t.
I’ve done my very best for this club over the last year, and I’ll continue to do so if you give me your vote. I’ll respect your decision either way.”
Storm’s voice rose above the din of murmurs from the brothers, “Alright, you’ve heard it with your own ears. Havoc submitted a motion for a vote on Alvin being patched into the Dark Slayers MC. Do I hear a second?”
Forge spoke up right away, seconding Havoc’s motion.
Storm stated, “I have a motion and a second. You’ve heard the reasons Alvin gave for being given his patch. I hereby call a vote. How many of you are aye?”
I was fucking thrilled when every single hand in the room shot up. Hot damn, I never thought that I was that popular among the brothers.
Storm’s face showed a pleased expression as he spoke, “Moving forward, you are a fully patched member of the Dark Slayers MC and Axel is your club name.”
Havoc asked, “Why Axel?”
“Alvin once told a story about that time his Humvee ran over an IED. It blew apart the underside of the vehicle and flipped it on its side.”
Memories of the war rose in my mind as Storm talked about one of the greatest traumas of my life.
I remember using the Humvee for cover while watching members of my unit falling like flies.
I went through all my ammo just as air cover arrived and had to beat the most tenacious insurgent off with scrap from the explosion.
He continued, “Alvin ran out of ammo and grabbed part of the axle to beat an insurgent off his battle buddy.” Gazing at me for a long, hard moment, he asked, “You okay with me telling your story?”
“Hell yeah, I’m fucking proud of my service.”
Storm gave me a full-on grin. It was so unexpected that it took me by surprise. “Welcome to the Dark Slayers MC, brother. You finally found a place to belong.”
The room erupted into shouts of welcome from the brothers. They were using my new club name, and the pure happiness on their normally stoic faces made me feel like I’d finally found my people and been accepted by them.
Thunder handed me my cut. It was just that little bit heavier for having the bottom rocker and center patch. I put it on immediately. Storm shook my hand and adjourned the meeting.
The brothers lined up to shake my hand in turn and walked me out to the bar to share a round of drinks in my honor.
Getting my cut was every bit as satisfying as I thought it would be.
I got a shot and words of wisdom from every single patched brother.
There were twenty-five of us at the moment, and that meant I was far too drunk to ride home, so I ended up hanging around the clubhouse for the rest of the evening.
Strangely enough, I had to fight off every club girl in the fucking clubhouse. There was something about a brother getting his patch that made the club girls sit up and pay attention.
Later in the evening, Storm’s rough voice drifted to my ears. “Enjoy this moment, Axel. I have a feeling this Twisted Metal shit is going to wreck our world moving forward. We need to party now so we can fight later.”
“Will do, Prez. By tomorrow, I’ll be right as rain.”
Storm’s smirk told me he didn’t think that was true.