Chapter 5
Flint
Outside, the morning sun is climbing higher in the sky, birds are chirping and there is a gentle breeze blowing through the Sons of Rage compound.
But Tommy and I aren’t fuckin’ feeling any of the goodness of the day.
This has been a crushing blow for my friend, and I regret talking him into prospecting.
As we walk to our bikes, he mutters, “A whole goddamn year of my life just went down the fuckin’ drain. I moved all the way here for the club, just to be rejected when my vote came up. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”
“I can imagine. This is probably your worst nightmare come true.”
“I can’t help but think I did something wrong. I have been racking my brain, but I can’t come up with one single thing that would justify a nay vote from Rock. I’ve always looked up to and respected that old man.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong, bro. I’m sure of it.”
“Then why did he vote nay?”
“Maybe there isn’t an answer to be had. It could be that the old man is going on some weird gut instinct and doesn’t even know why he voted you down.”
“Tommy,” I say quietly. “We’ve got company. Look towards our bikes.”
Mica’s leaning against the concrete wall that surrounds the Sons compound, all by himself.
He’s standing so close to our bikes that it makes me think he’s waiting for us.
Now, why the fuck would Mica, the new club president for Raging Vultures MC, be waiting to talk to us, today of all days? He jerks his chin when we get closer.
I’ve always been close to my cousin, Mica. He was the treasurer of this club for six years before he handed in his cut and rode out to build his own club. But him showing up at the Sons of Rage compound right after Tommy turned in his cut is setting off my spidey senses.
“Brothers,” Mica calls out to us as we come close.
“Mica,” Tommy answers. “How the hell’s it hanging?”
Mica chuckles. “As you probably heard, I’ve been busting my balls to get Raging Vultures off the ground.”
Joining the conversation, I ask, “Is your old lady treating you right?”
His eyes light up with the kind of happiness I wish I had in my life. “Nova is my world. She’s carrying my baby and also the reason I decided to start my own club. We want to honor her grandfather’s legacy.”
Tommy sighs. “At least you found your calling in life. That ain’t nothin’, my friend.”
Shooting a dark glance at the clubhouse, Mica responds, “I heard about you getting the thumbs down from my old man. That’s a shitty thing for him to do.”
“Yeah, I agree,” Tommy deadpans back. “Look, I’m planning on going on a drunken all-day bender today. Wanna come with?”
Mica’s expression softens. “No, I’ve got a pregnant old lady to get back to. But I do want to talk to you about something important. If you plan to spend the day drinkin’ you should put some food in your belly first.”
I shoot Tommy a knowing look. “That’s some damn good advice there, bro. You don’t want to be dry heaving into your porcelain throne all night.”
Tommy scratches his stomach. “Where do you wanna go?”
“Let me buy the two of you breakfast. How about Mike’s diner? They got a private booth in the back where we can talk.”
Tommy shrugs. “I fuckin’ love their food.” When he glances over at me, and I chime in, “Love their fuckin’ omelets,” I tell him. “We can start there and do a pub crawl later.”
Mica pushes off the wall. “Great. Let’s get out of here. We’ve got business to discuss.”
We jump on our bikes and head out through the front gate. The other prospects look shaken. They’re probably wondering if they’re going to get the same treatment that Tommy did when their time comes.
As we ride out, I remember Mica saying he wants to talk business. Maybe he’s looking for someone to work on his club’s firearms. We do own a gun repair shop, so that would make sense.
***
When we walk in Mike’s diner, he gestures with his spatula. “I kept your booth open for you this morning.”
Mica shoots him a grin. “Thanks, Mike. Nova told me to let you know she’s craving your peach cobbler.”
The older man perks up. “Shucks, now I’m gonna have to box her up a slice for you to take home to her.”
Mica glances over his shoulder as we pass. “Best box up a fresh pan for her. I know it ain’t cheap but add it to my bill.”
“Your old lady knows the good stuff when she tastes it. That’s an old family recipe. Ain’t nobody makes it like I do.”
Mica answers, “Don’t I know it.”
Mica’s favorite booth sits in a little alcove off the main dining room. It’s tucked behind a half-wall that makes it feel more private than it is. Mike brings coffee and drops menus on the table almost immediately. I don’t bother with the menu, because I already know what I’m ordering.
After taking the first sip of his coffee, Mica gets down to business. His facial expression has gone from smiling to serious.
“First thing I want to say, is that what happened in there this morning was not fair to you. I mean that. You deserved that patch and for some reason, my old man dropped the ball.”
Tommy nods slowly, pouring another sugar packet into his coffee. “That’s good of you to say but I’m about tired of hearing it, first from Slate and now from you. Sons of Rage MC is a legacy club. Your old man did this.”
I pause with my cup to my mouth. “We ain’t tryin’ to be rude. Those are the facts.”
“I’m not here to talk shit about my family or twist the fuckin’ knife they stabbed you in the back with. I’m also not gonna pretend to be mad that it happened. As far as I’m concerned, their loss is my gain.”
The shock I feel at hearing him say that is staggering. “Say what?”
Not taking his eyes off Tommy, Mica continues, “When I heard what was going down, I hightailed my ass over to the Sons compound to ask for a meet up.”
Tommy takes a sip of his coffee. Mike decides this is the moment to take orders, so we make it quick. I’m dying to hear how this fucker thinks he’s going to recover the conversation.
Mica continues, “You know I’ve been building Raging Vultures for the better part of a month now. We’ve created a charter. As you can see from my cut, we’ve got colors. Right now I have six patched brothers counting myself. And we’re in the process of rebuilding our clubhouse on Vulture’s property.”
“That’s all great and wonderful but what does it have to do with me?” Tommy asks.
“Let me finish. The building’s got walls and a roof on it right now. The plumbing’s mostly done in the back. But it’s rough living, I’m not gonna lie to ya. The brothers sleep on cots, and grill most of our food out back. Every man who wears our patch is also swinging a hammer most days.”
“Sounds like real work,” Tommy says dryly. “Do you want us to work on your weapons? Is that what this is about? If so, we can probably work out a bulk discount.”
“That’s one of the things we need but not right now. Right now, I need club officers. Men who know how to follow club rules, can interact with the public without making us look bad and can recruit.”
I know where this conversation is going, but poor Tommy looks totally bewildered.
“The thing is, I’ve been careful about who I bring in because the men I’m bringing in now are the men who’ll shape the next fifty years of whatever this thing becomes.”
Tommy is quiet for a long moment, and I can see he’s taking the conversation seriously.
“What are you asking me, Mica? Do you want me to prospect for your club? If so, the answer’s no. I’ve had about as much prospecting as I can take from your whole family.”
Mica leans forward and lowers his voice.
“I’m asking you to come on as an officer, my road captain to be exact.
You don’t need to prospect with me because you already did when I was with the Sons.
I know you’re smart, resourceful, and reliable.
You’d walk in wearing our patch and sit at the table with me and the other officers.
You’d be a founding member and get to help make all the important decisions from day one.
For once in your life, you have the recognition and power you deserve. ”
Mica’s finger comes up to his eye and he adds, “I see your worth. I’ve always seen that you were meant for great things. The truth is, we need what you bring to the table.”
Tommy doesn’t answer right away. He concentrates on the table for a long moment before he looks back up at Mica.
“Road captain? Why do you want me, Mica? You’ve got six patched brothers already. One of them has to know how to read a map.”
“Of course they can read maps. That’s not what I need. What I need is a man who knows the back roads of the tri-county area like the back of his hand. I need someone who’s strategic and prior military. You have all the skills I need and that’s why I’m tapping you for the road captain’s position.”
I watch Tommy’s face while Mica says that. Tommy tries not to let it show how much he likes hearing that Mica respects what he brings and honestly wants him. Tommy is a fuckin’ good rider. Everybody knows it, but Mica is articulating it like nobody ever has before.
“That’s one hell of a compliment,” Tommy states quietly.
“It’s not a compliment, brother. It’s a fact,” Mica shoots back.
“Mica, do you happen to know why your old man downvoted me this morning?”
“Because he thinks he knows what’s best for every damn body he ever meets.”
“I appreciate the offer. I want you to know that I’m taking it seriously. But I have other things going on in my life right now that I need to consider.”
Mica looks at him intently. “I just want to remind you that becoming a founding member of an MC isn’t a chance that rolls around every day.
Hell, you were prospecting for a legacy club where all the leadership positions were filled by blood brothers.
You would have never been given the opportunity that I’m offering you right now. You realize that, right?”
“Mica’s right about that, Tommy,” I say quietly. “This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.”