Chapter Eight
IWAS THE LAST one to step inside the meeting room we used for Church. I took my usual seat beside Micro, who rolled his eyes at me.
“Nice of you to show up, man.” There really couldn’t have been a worse time for me to show up late, could there? I mean, it was literally about a minute and a half, but I still wanted to kick my own ass for it.
“He was probably riding his bird before he came in,” Rocket said with a smirk, and I shot him a glare that I hope said everything I’d do to his fucking face, if he spoke about her like that again.
“Okay, enough of that shit. We brought you all together for one reason tonight, and okay, so he showed up fashionably late, but you all know he’s a damn good person, a fucking loyal friend, and brother, and the one reason half the shit in this club goes as smoothly as it does.”
Grease fake coughed, “fuck you,” into his fist, and Micro grinned.
“Okay, you help sometimes too. Soooo, this isn’t a vote, it’s a done deal, and this is us telling you that uh…
” he turned to grin at me then, and was this seriously how he was doing it?
There was no ceremony to it, not that there would have been anyway, but literally within minutes of me walking in?
No warming them up with other stuff first?
“I’m happy to advise you all that Harley here is our new VP. I trust you’ll all show him the same respect you show me. Hopefully more, because some of you are real pricks sometimes.”
The room filled with mumbles and congratulations, and Micro waited for it to die down, before he placed the VP patch in front of me. I couldn’t wait to add it to my cut, even though I hated stitching shit onto them. This time I’d do it with a fucking smile on my face.
“This man always has our backs, he’s instrumental in everything that gets done here, and he’s going to be helping me improve our club even more over the coming months.”
“Speech!” Rocket hissed, and a few others joined in, and I knew they were just taking the piss, but I shrugged.
“It’s about time he made an honest man of me, right?
” Laughter followed, and Micro slapped the table as he laughed.
“Seriously though, this club was a shit-show before Phoenix rocked up, and changed everything for the better. Like the Pres said, I’ve got the back of everyone here, and I’ll do my best to do you all proud.
I’ll say this though. Anyone disrespects our Pres, or the colours, and I’ll make them disappear nice and painful, like. ”
The smirks turned to respect, and Micro slapped my back.
“Okay, we’re done for now, but expect more updates in our next session. Remember to keep Harley updated on any interest from potential prospects, since he’s now officially taking on their management too.” I’d already been doing that, so it wasn’t exactly any extra work for me.
I waited out the bro hugs and congratulations, lingering until only Micro, Grease, and I were in the room.
“That went well.”
“Being late was a great way to start out, VP,” Grease said with a smirk, as he watched my fingers smooth over the embroidered VP patch. I never imagined wearing one, but it was like receiving an honour you didn’t know you’d wanted all along.
Grease was the first one to call me VP like that, and it felt fucking good. All of this did.
“There’s really a bird?” Micro asked, and I took a deep breath as anger filled me at the word being used to describe her.
“No, there’s not a fucking ‘bird’.”
“She was in his lap when we left,” Grease replied, sending me a shit-eating grin as I slid the patch into my pocket.
“She was overwhelmed by you and Rocket acting like pricks. What the hell is wrong with you two anyway?”
Micro nodded, looking his way too. “Yeah, I’d like to know that too. You guys seemed to get on okay before you came here.”
Grease shrugged. “Guy’s got an attitude problem, and he doesn’t get to call me a mafia douche, or whatever the fuck it was, and not get a limb broken. I just don’t hit drunk men. There’s no sport in that. When I put him down, he’ll be capable of fighting back. It just won’t do him any good.”
“What’s his story, anyway?” I asked Micro, ignoring Grease’s threat, because until it actually happened, it wasn’t my problem.
“He used to be solid,” Micro said, leaning down to grab a bottle from under his chair, adding three glasses beside it. Hell yeah, it was time to celebrate. He poured one for each of us, and we sat back with them.
“He was with Phoenix before I joined them, and his spray work and ink work is fucking amazing, but that woman really fucked him over.”
He’d mentioned a woman, hadn’t he? That made sense, and at least it wasn’t just bullshit.
“What happened?” I asked, taking a large gulp of bourbon and savouring the taste as I swallowed.
“I don’t know exactly. She fucked him around, because he was a biker, and I think had some bullshit idea that he was beneath her.
There was definitely talk of a pregnancy, or something like that, but I have no idea how that panned out.
I can get with Ice and find out more.” Micro suddenly barked out a laugh, and Grease nodded at him, not needing him to say it.
“Yeah, I’ll do that for ya. You know he’ll tell you to suck it.” Ice still had a major problem with Micro, and I knew the ins and outs of what had happened with the original chapter of the club, but not why Ice was still bearing such a grudge.
“Yeah, we could definitely do with knowing the situation. He’s out of control lately.”
“Working with you will hopefully help him get his head straight,” Micro suggested, topping our glasses up, while Grease snorted.
“Or he’ll fuck up your business right along with his own.”
“I’ll keep an eye on him, but if he becomes a problem, he’s out. I can’t afford for him to take me down with him.”
“Surprised you made the offer to begin with,” Grease murmured, rolling his glass between his palms thoughtfully, “he’s not exactly stable, and he’s definitely not people friendly.”
I rested my hand over my pocket, over that VP patch I already knew I was fucking made for. It was like I had to keep reminding myself it was there.
“I guess we’ll see. Thanks for not showing up in your cut, by the way, Grease. I keep the club stuff out of the shop, so we don’t scare all the customers.”
Micro pouted. “He doesn’t love us when he’s at work…
” he whined petulantly, but I didn’t rise to it, because this was just how he was.
He was a fucking good person, despite the things he’d done before we knew each other.
Hell, that night he told me everything, I felt like I fell into a fucking parallel universe.
THAT NIGHT… WHEN MICRO was so drunk, he spilled more than booze...
I was sitting by the fire pit, after everyone else had left, and after two weeks here, fuck me, Micro was making headway in clearing out the assholes, and tidying things up.
It already felt like a better club than it had ever been, and that was with people still grumbling about changes, and walking out routinely when they’d had enough.
Micro sat beside me, and handed me a glass of bourbon. Not a measure of it, but a whole fucking glass, and he held one too, a pissed off look on his face.
“You okay?”
He groaned, hunching over his glass. “Nope. It’s one thing after another with these fuckers.
Do they think I don’t get that it’s different from what they had?
Do they think I’m some pussy just playing at being a biker?
If they knew the shit… ugh… I mean, they’re little boys tossing their toys out of the playpen, I swear. ”
He gulped half of his drink and groaned after, and that’s when I realised it wasn’t his first drink tonight.
“Who was it this time?” He reached for the bottle of bourbon he’d brought with him, and I grabbed it instinctively, because when a brother’s this drunk, you cut him off. At least in a decent club, you do.
“Huh?”
“Micro, look at me. You’re fucking wasted already. How are you gonna get home to that woman of yours, huh?”
He dragged a hand over his face, muttering to himself.
“This isn’t who I was meant to be. I mean, fuck me… the person I was, I’m glad he’s dead. He was such a cunt.” I didn’t know if I was meant to be hearing these words, and a quick glance around us reassured me that I was the only one around to pick up on them.
“You want me to get you a cab, Pres?”
He glared at me. “Not really your President, am I? I’m a fucking tool they’re using. This is my punishment. Don’t you get it? I probably still die after all this, and I fucking deserve it.”
Okay, now he was making zero sense. I’d seen animosity between the flagship President and VP with Micro, but it had never really made sense to me.
“Micro, as far as I’m concerned, you’re my fucking Pres, and I’ve got your back one hundred percent.”
He sighed, setting his empty glass down, and resting his chin in his hands, his elbows on his knees.
“You wouldn’t if you knew what a fucker I’d been. I was so bent out of shape, and blaming all the wrong people. I hurt people, man. I fucking attacked people.” Shit, I had no idea what the hell was happening here, or what had happened in the past, but I wasn’t sure he should be telling me this.
“Why don’t I get you home, Pres? You need to sleep this off.” I reached for his arm, and he shook free of me.
“No. You need to hear this. You wanna know who you’re backing? Wanna know what kind of asshole I am?” Not really. I just didn’t know how to stop him at this point. Was punching my new Pres against the rules? I had no idea, but I knew it wouldn’t help his head when the booze wore off.
“Pres…”
“My dad was President of a club, a fucking deadly club, and they took him out, and… and… They should have. He was a cancer… a fucking disease… I got all twisted up… b- blamed them.”
Them who? Who the fuck was his dad?
“Blamed them?”