Chapter Twenty-Seven
Grizz
“Is everything all set for the Halloween party?” Prez asks during Church. It’s a little over a week before Halloween, and I know for sure everything has been all set for at least a month. Snapper is handling it and he’s always on top of things. Nothing gets by him.
“Yes,” Snapper says. “I triple-checked that everything was all set after the charity event a few weeks ago.”
“That’s good to hear. So we can move on to other business then?” Prez questions, looking around the table at all of us.
Church is required every Saturday. Everyone who is part of the club has to be here every week, no matter what. Even when I thought a few of the guys were going to kill Prez, we still came because we’re loyal to this club.
I’m not entirely sure what happened on the weekend Shark, our VP, and Snapper took off with Prez.
I was sure Shark and Snapper were going to show back up without him, giving some story about how he took off or something.
We’d all have known better, and I’m not sure anyone would have questioned it.
I wouldn’t have. Not that I want the guy to die, but he got things real messy for us for a while.
It’s been stressful as fuck, but I’ve done my best to leave that shit here.
I don’t want to take it home and stress out everyone there.
Things have been better here though, and we even made a treaty with the Iron Runners, who we do not fucking deal with at all. Of course we all have our own issues with them, but right now, mine are much more than everyone else’s.
They’ve given us trouble since the beginning, always coming into our town and trying to take our border so they can get into fucked up business, like trafficking and guns.
We don’t do that shit, and we never will.
We protect and we do good for this town, even if our ways are messed up sometimes too. But it’s always for the right reason.
It seems the IR was having their own issues though, and they had some kind of split. Don’t quite know what it was exactly because that’s the Prez and VP’s business, but we all voted on it fairly, and only one person voted no against the treaty.
I thought about it, because why the fuck would I want to make a deal with them after what they did to my girl?
Gunner is now on the outside of the IR, but who the fuck knows who else was involved that’s still there?
I don’t trust any of those pricks, but like they say…
keep your friends close and your enemies closer.
I realized quickly that it would be smart to settle for the treaty for that reason alone. If they trust us, they’ll let us get closer.
I have plans for Gunner and anyone else I find is guilty for hurting my girl, and the easiest way to get back at them is being on the inside. Now that Gunner is out, it will be easier to get to him, but being friendly with them may get me more information.
It’s fucked, I know. Going against the treaty is disloyal to my club, but I have to worry about my girl. If this gets blown to hell, the guys will understand. They’ll have to.
“What other business?” Rhino asks.
He’s the only one who still hates Prez. I mean, we’re all still a little leery of the guy, I think.
Not quite wanting to trust him after everything was so crazy for a while.
We did learn he was being blackmailed, and instead of telling us, tried handling it himself and almost got a few of us killed, but that’s all taken care of now.
But we still worry he’s going to hide other shit from us now.
The trust ain’t there, but we’re working on it.
Rhino has other problems with Coyote, though. Personal ones. Coyote’s father is the reason Rhino’s father is dead. Or at least, they were together when it happened and Rhino blames Coyote’s father. No one really knows the truth since we weren’t there.
They were the last two alive of the last generation, so it hit us hard when they died—especially since it was at the same time.
Things were very different after that, especially when Coyote took over.
He was here and there through the years, but never officially one of us.
Not until his Pops died, and he decided he wanted to take over.
And that’s how it’s always been in this club.
Prez goes down the family line first. We like tradition and do what we can to keep it. So we gave him a chance.
“Shark and I have been talking. It’s been a rough year,” Coyote starts. “It’s been messy and stressful, but I—we want to get back on track. We need to remember why we’re here at all.”
“What does that mean?” Rhino growls.
Coyote could say the sky was blue, and Rhino would question it.
It’s disrespectful, and we shouldn’t disrespect our Prez, but we let him get away with it…
for now. Rhino is grieving. He’s angry. And he needs to get this shit out.
Not sure it’ll last much longer, not with the way Prez has changed and taken responsibility for the shit he’s done.
He’s been doing good, lately. But Rhino is stubborn as fuck, and you can tell by his face, too.
He’s got one of those hardened faces, like he doesn’t take any shit from anyone.
Scariest motherfucker in here—outside of Snapper, that is.
But he’s got the crazy going on inside, not so much on the outside.
Shark speaks up next. “We have a plan here.” He taps the folder on the table in front of him.
“We all know we have that treaty in effect now, and we’re still working out spots for the IR to handle.
Different borders and such. Grizz has already gone with Snapper a couple of times to update the maps, correct? ”
“Yep,” I say, while Snapper nods.
“So that’s going well. But we’re not here to appease the IR, and that’s what we need to remember.
We’re here for this town. To keep it safe.
Who’s to say someone else won’t come in?
We just dealt with that cartel, we’ve been dealing with the IR.
We agreed we need to strengthen our numbers and broaden our connections. ”
He pauses for a moment, looking over at Coyote.
“Which means we have a lot of plans for the upcoming year. Now, nothing is set in stone yet. These are just some ideas that Shark and I came up with, but we’ll vote on it, like we vote on everything else.
Whatever duties need to be done will be split fairly, as we usually do. None of that shit is going to change.”
The club has felt stale lately. It’s been unorganized, stressful, and some days, I don’t know why I am still here. But giving ourselves meaning again? That’s the important shit. That’s what’s exciting.
“So,” Shark says, opening his folder. “This is what we have so far. Weekly rides after Church. Community connections outside of Pinehaven, to broaden our reach. Get more prospects. We can go anywhere in this state, but we’ll start out small.
Just surrounding towns. Now, the fun part,” he says with a smirk.
I lean back in my chair and look around. Everyone is listening, giving Shark all of their attention. It’s been a long time since everyone has been so focused on what’s going on here.
“Right now, we get all our money by trading supplies. And that’s great, but we want to do more.
I mean, we all sit around the clubhouse most of the day, only going out to do shit when needed.
If we want to strengthen community, then we need to be part of it.
We can’t just sit here and pretend we’re doing shit to help when all we do is a couple community events a year—no offense, Snapper. ”
I swear he growls, and I hide my laugh.
“Yeah, they’re great events,” Coyote says. “But we need more.”
Shark continues. “We already took over the diner, which has brought in a little revenue, but hardly much more. The prospect has taken that over, and if he gets patched in, it’ll be his job to manage the diner. But we need more businesses.”
“More businesses?” Spam asks, scratching his head.
“That’s right,” Coyote adds with a grin.
“We’ve made a list of ideas. A bike shop. Why the fuck are we sending our bikes miles away to be fixed when we can do that shit ourselves? Tattoo shop. We all got ink—”
“Yeah, except the prospect!” Ghost says, patting the prospect on his back.
“Well, I want to,” he argues, shrugging off Ghost.
“Hell yeah,” Ghost says.
“He can be our first one then. Because why the fuck are paying other people?” Shark continues. “We could open a bar. Yeah, we have ours, but why not have one out there that’ll bring in money from other people? Apparel shop, specifically leathers. Storage. Tow trucks. There are so many options.”
He pauses, looking around the table. It’s quiet. Real quiet. I can’t tell how anyone feels about this.
Me? I’m excited. I love all this change, and how much it’s going to help us and build the community even more.
Of course, there’s always the downside of more businesses bringing in riff-raff, but we’ll handle that.
Make it known the business are owned by the Hell’s Mayhem. They won’t fuck with us then.
“What do we think?” Coyote asks calmly, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.
“If no one’s gonna say it, I will,” Ghost says. “I think it’s a great fucking idea.”
And that’s all everyone needs to agree. The room is loud as everyone shares their excitement and their ideas, trying to claim what business they want and how they’re going to contribute.
Even Rhino has a look of interest. I know he likes building bikes, and he especially likes painting them. He’s good as fuck at it too.
“No one has been this thrilled about helping in years,” Snapper mutters from beside me.
I grin, knowing he hates it. The less control he has, the worse it is for him.
The excitement lasts for a while, then Church is over, and we get up to leave.
“Grizz!” someone calls. I find Snapper watching me. I move through the crowd to get back to the table as the rest of the guys push out.
“What’s up?” I ask when it’s just us.
“How’s things?” he asks, trying to sound like he doesn’t care too much.
I know he’s asking about Anastacia and the baby, but of course he won’t do that outright.
“Things are great,” I say. “Fucking perfect. You should come over sometime.”
“I don’t know.”
“Yeah, come on. It’ll be fun. You can bring your boyfriend.” He frowns, and I can’t help but laugh. “We can do dinner. It’ll be nice. What’s your favorite?”
“Favorite?”
“Food. What do you like to eat that ain’t the shit Spam whips up here.”
“I rarely eat his food.”
“Exactly. So what do you want?”
“Uh…” He scratches the back of his neck. “I don’t know. Fuck. Steak?”
“Hell yeah. Steaks are great. You wanna come by tomorrow?”
“No, I can’t do tomorrow. We have plans.”
“All right, no problem. I’ll call you then, yeah?”
“Sure,” he says, though I know he isn’t happy about it. I pat him on the back, which he likes even less.
“Thanks for saving her, man. I’m telling you. She’s a fucking angel.”
I swear he smiles as I walk away.