Chapter Three
P owerhouse
I’m drug outside with the others. Well, I’m actually walked outside, ‘cause let’s face it, none of these small men are dragging my ass anywhere unless a few of them work together. I tip my head at Benny, he’s the main bouncer who works the door, whom I see frequently.
I turn my attention to the cop once more, “Want to fill me in on why my club’s being targeted?
” I don’t appreciate the interruption in the middle of my birthday celebration, especially because I finally had Raven’s attention exactly where I wanted it.
However, I can’t say I’m surprised we were stereotyped and separated from the rest of everyone else.
This is the last thing any of us needs. I’m sure someone has an active warrant they’ve been forgetting about.
“We’ll be with you in a second.” I get in response.
“Y’all sure were in a hurry a second ago,” I grumble with a sigh and kick the closest pebble.
A beat passes before I can’t keep my mouth shut. “VP, any news?” I ask Blow, since he or Ripper would most likely be the two who would know what the hell’s going on.
He shakes his head, “No. Prez was asking to speak to the club’s lawyer. If anyone questions you, say the same.”
We’re interrupted by the female who cuffed him, telling him to be quiet.
Of course, Blow does the opposite. He immediately begins to jump around, eventually asking the woman if she knows his ol’ lady.
His woman is kind of a badass, not gonna lie.
She’s a US Marshal and will be livid when she hears her ol’ man was cuffed outside the club tonight.
I’m leaning up against the building off to the side out front as we’re all spread apart in different directions of the parking lot like a bunch of assholes, before our club’s lawyer shows up.
The next one to roll in is Blow’s woman, including her brother, Lincoln, who’s another cop.
I don’t know shit, so I just stand here quietly, watching everything.
I’m trying to remember if we have anything at the club to warrant this much police presence, but our last run should’ve put our supplies low.
Once Blow got with his ol’ lady, everything changed anyhow, and we started using a storm cellar on a plot of land out in the middle of nowhere to hold the bulk of our shit.
Eventually, Whiskey is allowed to post up closer to me. As soon as we’re alone, I ask, “Brother, you hear anything?”
He shakes his head. “They’re keeping their voices down, so I wasn’t able to overhear much.
I managed to catch one of them saying they want a roll call on which members were here tonight, and any others currently in the state of Texas.
I couldn’t hear anything else,” he offers and shrugs his shoulders.
I hope Raven got out. Although if they’re asking which members are here, well, it’s probably MC-related, and everyone inside will be left alone. Hopefully. Still grinds my fucking gears they yanked us out of the bar like they did.
The guy who cuffed me walks by, checking on us. I ask him, “Bro, will you go get my cake from inside? I don’t want them to toss it.” He speaks to the female officer, then disappears, entering the building.
After a few minutes, the guy thankfully returns with my cake. “The cake box was gone, but I snagged one from the bar.”
“Hey, thanks. I appreciate it.”
He nods, setting the box beside me before walking back over to the group of officers speaking to our club’s lawyer.
Eventually, we’re told nothing. They stick Ripper, still cuffed, in the back of a blacked-out sedan while releasing the rest of us. We watch as the car drives away, our Prez stuck in the back for who knows what.
“Blow, anything?” I ask again since the authorities are clearing out. His ol’ lady has left as well, offering Prez’s woman a ride home. She’ll probably get her car and then head straight to the station to wait for Prez to either be booked or released.
“Not sure, everyone’s keeping their mouths shut. My woman didn’t find out much, just that they’re searching for a member.” He glances around before mumbling, “One who doesn’t belong to this chapter.”
“Fuck.”
“Yep. She said we should hear an update from the lawyer soon and hopefully have more info.”
“You headed home or back to the clubhouse?”
“The MC first.” He then directs his attention to everyone still standing around. “Load up. Everyone back to the clubhouse for Church!” He orders, and we follow suit.
I manage to secure my box of cake to my motorcycle with some bungee cords and load up, taking my place as we all finally get on the road to head back home.
We’d been stuck outside for a few hours while they questioned everyone and made up their minds on what to do, so everyone’s pretty good to ride at this point.
I’d never ride my bike trashed, and I like to think my brothers wouldn’t either.
Plague probably would have, but that was before he met his woman.
They’re behind me, all snuggled up together as they follow us to the clubhouse, along with Angel, Wrench, Richardson, and the prospects.
Luckily, Baker kept his ass home; he’s been out on parole a while now, so the strip club was the last place he needed to be tonight.
The ride is short and bittersweet as it’s hard to enjoy it when we don’t know what the hell is happening right now. We pull in to the clubhouse, backing in our bikes as one. Once our engines are off, we head straight inside. Plague’s woman goes to their room, and we head into Church.
Blow takes the gavel in hand, slamming it to the table once Baker’s joined us. He’s clearly lost, probably only getting a quick text from Whiskey that shit has hit the fan. I’m proven right when he asks Blow what the hell is going on.
“The only thing I know is they were looking for a member from another charter. The person is accused of murdering multiple people and on the run.”
“Who is it?”
He meets my gaze, “We don’t know, the cops won’t say. My ol’ lady is being stonewalled on this too, so she doesn’t have shit on the case either.”
Angel grumbles, “Fuck. How can they pull everyone out and not say shit? It has to be a violation of something.”
Blow continues, “Apparently, the FEDS are building a case against someone in the main chapter from the bits and pieces we’ve all managed to put together.”
“Not surprising,” I mutter.
“So sick of this shit,” Whiskey comments.
Baker nods, “Agreed. Now we’re taking heat for members who aren’t in the same state, let alone in our chapter?”
Richardson speaks up, “They could be trying to build a RICO case. If so, everyone is fucked.”
“There has to be a way out of this.”
He nods, meeting my stare. “Oh, there is. None of you is going to like what I have to say, but I’m going to put it on the table anyhow.
If they’re forming a RICO case, they’re looking to take down the entire club.
Think of it as an organization, you don’t go after one store, you hit headquarters and then umbrella the effect down.
We can possibly escape it, but we would have to make some moves now. ”
Everyone’s attention is trained on Richardson as Blow asks, “What moves?”
“We could cut ties and create our own club. Have no association with the other MC, but it could leave us vulnerable. Not only to them, attempting to take us out as retribution, but for the FEDS, thinking we’re pulling a fast one.
They could still link us if the timing is right.
The best bet we’d have would either be to dismantle the club completely and everyone go their separate ways, or else patch over to a different MC.
We could claim bad blood and cutting ties to go legit with another club, depending on their reputation. ”
Angel, Blow, and I all trade looks, and I know we’re thinking the exact same thing.
Ripper has been talking about possibly patching over for a while now.
We’ve voted on it before and as a club, agreed to patch over.
We haven’t made the move yet, though, as Ripper’s been working out the details and speaking to different chapter presidents of the other club.
He wants us to become Oath Keepers.
“Patching over was on the board before,” Angel shares with the table, and we collectively nod, remembering our vote. “We can’t make a decision without Prez. If they book him, once I speak to him, I can get in touch with Ares and Viking in OKMC and see if the option is still open to us.”
Blow sighs, crossing his arms. My brother is rarely so serious, but with Prez taken away, he has no choice.
He sends a blistering glare at Angel, the two no longer fond of each other since our enforcer took off with Blow’s woman and was going to kill her.
“We wait for Prez,” He demands, and everyone’s silent, waiting for them to go at each other’s throats.
The room’s tense and uncomfortable. Definitely not the way shit should be with us already split up from our prez and the authorities after our club as a whole.
Whiskey breaks the silence, “We should reach out to brothers we’re on good standing with and find out if any more arrests have been made.”
Richardson leans forward, shaking his head, “No. You don’t want to do that. Don’t contact anyone outside this room or your family. If you do, it’ll link us even more, and it’s the opposite of what we want to happen.”
“Fuck, this sucks,” I comment, sighing.
“Sure does,” Wrench agrees.
Plague, who hasn’t said one word since we left the strip joint, finally asks, “Who’s picking up Prez?”
I’m about to speak when the chapel door flies open.
Prez strolls through, brow heavy with his thoughts.
He huffs, then plops his ass in his chair.
“Brothers. I see we’re in church, thanks for the invite, fuckers.
” He glances around, met with smirks and head shakes. Blow’s mouth kicks up into a grin.
“We had to pow-wow, Prez.” Baker says. The stress of everything making him seem a bit older and weary.
“I know, I know, old man. So what did I miss?”
Blow offers, “Richardson says our options are limited. We need to unlink ourselves from the club.”
Ripper’s brows skyrocket as he turns his gaze to Richardson. “That so?”The newest brother at our table nods. “We need a patch over to get us the hell away from the other mc. Preferably with a club that the cops don’t generally hate, like they seem to do with this one.”
“This one has gotten sloppy. Charters have let too much shit slide with certain members. Once they started hurting women, I knew they were going down the wrong path.”
Angel comments, “We’ve already voted for a change. Any updates on where we stand with the Oath Keepers?”
Riper takes in every man around the table. “Is it something you all still want? To patch over to the Oath Keepers MC?”
The room is silent, but no words are needed because we all nod.