Chapter Four
Give Micro his due, he really tried to get things set up for a successful ceremony.
Okay, so the bourbon all got destroyed, and the weird beer delivery from Don Rossi was confirmed as genuine, even though it wasn’t the kind of shit we liked to drink.
We still had a dozen fucking kegs lined up at the back by the storage building, and stacks of disposable glasses, and once the ceremony was done, we could drink our fill of those.
“Okay, so we’ll keep this short and sweet.
Every one of you has proved, over the last six months, that you’re ready to take the next step, and become Phoenix MC members.
This club, the former Rogue Riders club, is defunct now.
A new Phoenix MC Chapter rises from the ashes, and brings us a new family, a new band of brothers, and I know that we’ll have each other’s backs, will work to keep to the Phoenix ethos, and ensure that we grow and thrive here. ”
I nodded at Stitch, because this was a two part ceremony, and this wasn’t just my club, it was ours.
“As Reacher has explained, we’re patching over this club, and creating a second chapter of Phoenix MC, and we’re looking forward to a long fruitful future together.
When we started out, Phoenix MC was a dream.
It was the home we were both looking for.
It wasn’t just a way of life, it was life.
It was somewhere to belong, a family, a future.
We never foresaw a second chapter back then, but this is the right time, and this is the right place to do it.
Every one of you has exemplified yourself, and gets to shed those cuts for the last time. ”
Ryder and Torch lifted the replacement cuts from their boxes, and waited with them, as I nodded and gestured for them to cast them off.
They shed their old cuts, and laid them on the bench table beside the firepit.
Rocket, Stag, and Grease would be keeping their existing cuts, but we would be adding a new chapter patch to each of them. Everyone else’s was redundant.
As the new cuts were handed around, and the members gave them the once over, and slipped them on, I felt a rush of peace, of satisfaction, because like Stitch said, it had never been the plan to expand, back when we first began with building a club out of the ashes of the Godless Warriors.
This was like a gift we’d never expected to be receiving.
A chance to bring another club into the fold, and revitalise it, freshen it, and fucking resurrect it.
“Phoenix MC Hampshire Chapter is now your new home, brothers. The prospects will hang the new sign for you, and get back to work when they’re done. Stitch?”
Stitch nodded to me, and gestured to the one cut we’d held back, the one cut that would be worn by the new club president, not that he realised it, but I’m sure he wondered why the fuck he didn’t get a cut with the others.
Maybe he thought we were ditching him, now he’d done what we sent him here to do.
“Micro, step forward.”
He looked nervous, afraid even, but he’d done everything we’d asked of him, and he’d worked his ass off to make amends.
None of us had missed that chat he had with Elise, and from the way she was smiling, and seemed to have that light back in her eyes after, I knew it’d given her what she needed.
He could have been an ass about it, but he didn’t.
“Brother, you’ve come a long way. You’ve had to dig yourself out of the fucking ashes, but we put you here to do a job, and you did it.
You did everything we asked of you, you cleaned house, you rebuilt this place from scratch, and you delivered us a club we can proudly put our colours on.
I think it’s time we made things official.
” Stitch handed the President cut to Micro, who stood blinking at it, like he couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
“This… this is for me? You’re really… no more interim?”
Stitch burst out laughing. “No more interim, I promise. Get your cut on, President, and let’s get this party started. I’ve no doubt you’ll be wanting to make something else official, first chance you get.”
Rocket nudged himself past the others. “I can set up right away, Pres.”
Micro
President. Club President. No more interim. They were fucking trusting me to officially take on the mantle of power here, and run the club for them. They were putting a President patch on my fucking chest.
“Micro?” I slipped the cut on, feeling like I’d just grown a few feet in height. Once upon a time, I’d been destined to be Club President, but of a very different club. An unworthy club, as it turned out. Who knew that one day I’d still get to wear a President’s patch?
“Sorry, I was just uh… yeah. Thank you. Thank you both, for putting your trust in me before, and for giving me this honour now. I’m ready to continue doing you proud, and keeping this club one you can be proud of.”
Sophie practically threw herself at me, and I pulled her against my chest as I continued.
“Thank you. And you’re right. Someone here needs an old lady tat, and I want my club ink back. It’s time.”
Reacher nodded, reaching out to fist bump me, while I still held my woman, the one about to be my old lady.
“We’ll talk tomorrow about VP options and stuff, but for now, son, enjoy the party. I hear you’ve got some kegs set up ready.”
Fuck me, thank god for those kegs, since everything else had gone to shit. I kissed the top of Soph’s head, and paused, when I heard a sniffle from her.
“Baby, are you crying?”
She buried her face in my neck. “I’m so proud of you, Micro. I’m so relieved that they got their heads out of their asses at last.”
“You know I can hear you, right?” Stitch asked, as he slapped my back and passed us, directing people to start pouring beer, and ‘get this party started’.
“I can’t believe it, babe. No more interim.
No more fucking sniping at me for being just a figurehead.
” I mean, that remained to be seen, since they would still be in charge of me, right?
But at least I could call myself a fucking president now, without having to add that fucking word in front of it.
I never wanted to hear that fucking word ever again.
Various hands slapped my back, as people moved around to get to the party, but I just stood there, holding my woman, my fucking reason for living.
“You want me to set up for the tats, Pres?” Rocket was standing beside us, and suddenly all I could think about was getting us both inked up asap.
“Yeah, brother, let’s do this.” I turned to Soph, and suddenly froze. “Or can’t you have a tattoo while you’re pregnant?”
“Pregnant? Hey, congrats!”
“Who’s pregnant?” Oh shit. Suddenly we were the centre of attention again for a reason that we weren’t planning to make known just yet.
Tesio / Grease
Iswear, I didn’t know what the fuck was going on.
One minute, I was distracted from checking cameras by Micro, who was asking dumbass questions about a booze delivery from Don Rossi, and the next, I was waking up on the floor of my office, and the door was jammed somehow, so even when I dragged my groggy ass up from the floor, I couldn’t get out. What the fuck had happened?
I tentatively pressed my fingers against the side of my head, gasping out in pain when they touched a swollen bump, and the tackiness of drying blood.
“The fuck?”
I staggered back to my screens, and they were all dark, and a quick sluggish check of them proved they were dead, like there was no power getting into my systems, and therefore the entire fucking compound’s cameras. My brain struggled to focus on the matter at hand, but I knew it was nothing good.
There was only one explanation for it. We were under fucking attack! I rummaged through the clutter on the desk, and grabbed my mobile phone, trying to dial, before I saw the ‘no signal’ warning at the edge of the screen. Fuck! How was there suddenly no signal? A jammer?
I stumbled back to the door, banging my fist on it repeatedly, trying to get someone to hear me.
There was so much noise outside, but I couldn’t get my head to clear enough, to work out what I was actually hearing.
Was it partying or fighting? Fun or terror?
I felt my knees weaken, and I crashed down onto them, as the room spun again, and then darkness washed over me once more.
Cammy
Say what you want about bikers, but they know how to party, and they’re great in bed.
I mean, at eight months pregnant, I literally felt like I was fit to burst, but hadn’t it been fun making a baby in the first place?
I couldn’t wait to meet our little sweetheart, and I knew our little girl would be the most well protected little girl in the world, with the whole club looking out for her.
“They’re getting so rowdy,” Sophie complained, dropping onto the seat beside me. She eyed my stomach, and bit her lip, clearly wanting to say something. My hormones were so out of whack, that one wrong word from her could piss me off, but her conflicted expression got through to me.
“Is everything okay? Is this the ‘I need away from Micro’ request, because I’ve got you, we all have.”
She rolled her eyes at me, glaring as one of the guys yelled out and something was thrown. Great, these guys couldn’t party without someone getting pissy and throwing punches.
“Maybe we should move over there away from the fire,” I suggested, and we left the firepit seating area, and moved over to the benches by the small building they used for Church.
“So about Micro?”
Sophie groaned. “When are you all going to realise that he’s a good man? He’s my everything! I actually wanted to talk to you about pregnancy.”
Oh. My eyes lowered briefly to the hand resting over her stomach. If there was a baby in there, she wasn’t showing yet.
“You are?”