Savage
“Igive up,” Torch grumbled, his gaze fixated on Wrath and Mia sitting alone in the back corner. “It’s just not gonna happen.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“Me finding an ol’ lady.” Torch shook his head. “It’s not gonna happen. At least not for me. Hell, Beauty and the Beast over there seem as happy as they can be, all cozied up, happy and fancy fucking free, and I can’t even find a date for Friday night.”
“Ah, you just gotta keep at it. Someone will come along,” Hayes answered, trying his best to be supportive.
“Nah, you’re not getting it. They have come along,” Torch shook his head. “I’ve gone out with the good girl, the bad girl, single women, married women, and every single time, things seem to be going good, and then, in a blink, it all goes to shit.”
“And when it goes, it goes fast.”
After a week that seemed like it would never end, we all gathered at the bar for a round of drinks. Like most nights, the air was thick with the scent of booze and cigarettes, and there was a low hum of music and idle conversations. It was the perfect setting to wind down.
Cotton, my father and the president of the club, was sitting at one of the front tables with Stitch, Maverick, and several of the older brothers while the younger crew sat at the bar.
I was sitting sandwiched between Rooster and Torch, and we were shooting the shit about this and that when Torch started whining about his romantic woes.
“You’re not wrong there.” Rooster, with his disheveled hair and mischievous eyes, leaned in closer, and his voice tinged with humor as he told us, “I hooked up with a chick last week that had a snake for a pet, and I’m not talking about any snake.
I’m talking about a fucking python, and this thing was a beast. Longer than my goddamn leg. ”
“No shit?”
“Nooo shit.” Rooster’s face was animated as he told us, “I tried to be cool about it. Figured it wasn’t a big deal until we were going at it, and she noticed that the fucking thing had gotten out of his cage.
She didn’t think nothing of it. Thought it was no big deal that the damn thing was just roaming around her apartment, but I wasn’t having it.
No damn way I was gonna let that fucking thing slither into bed with us.
I didn’t need that kind of competition, so I grabbed my shit and got the hell out of there. ”
“You didn’t even get your nut off?”
“Fuck nah. I got the hell out of there and never looked back.”
“Can’t say I blame ya. If I had a chode like yours, I would’ve done the same fucking thing.”
“You must not know who you’re talking to. I’d blow the bottom out of the well.”
“Okay, buddy. You keep telling yourself that.”
Torch gave his perpetual five o'clock shadow a quick scratch, then reached over and grabbed a cold beer from the cooler as he said, “Kind of reminds me of that time Hayes convinced me to go out with that cute, little librarian. I thought I’d stumbled into something pretty good with her until I found out she had a thing for cats. And I’m not talking about one or two. This girl had a house full of them.”
“Ah, hell naw.”
“Yeah, it was pretty bad, but she was cute and pretty eager. I figured I’d still try and make a go of it.
I hooked up with her and woke up the next morning with thirty beady cat eyes staring me down like I was a piece of fucking roast beef.
Creepy as shit. I knew right then and there that it didn’t matter how good she was in the sack. It just wasn't going to work out.”
“Cat chicks are as crazy as those rock chicks.”
“Rock chicks?”
“You know, those bitches who make spells and shit and sleep with rocks. They’ll burn sage in your house and talk about your aurora and shit. That mess scares the hell out of me.”
“Says the man who’s killed a guy with his bare hands.”
“Dude, I’m telling ya, these chicks are next level. If a chick asks about your birth month or sign, run.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Rooster chuckled as he said, “What about that chick with the whip? You still see her?”
“Not since the night she cost me my manhood.” Torch reached down and adjusted his crotch. “I got a spot on my left nut that still ain’t right.”
Rooster immediately snickered, “Guess you could say she left a lasting impression.”
“No more than the redhead you went out with a couple of months back.” Torch exhaled a couple of smoke rings and cocked his brow as he said, “Way I remember it, you’re lucky your ass doesn’t whistle when you fart.”
“Touché.” Rooster shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “I really need to start looking into the women before I take ‘em out.”
We continued to bare our souls, exchanging tales of heartbreak, missed connections, and the search for the woman who would set our world on fire.
I listened for a while but eventually grew tired of the nonsense and tuned them out.
My mind started to wander as I ran my hand over the wooden counter, the tips of my fingers trailing the worn grooves carved by my brothers, and it wasn’t long before my thoughts drifted to Londyn.
It had been just almost five years since the day I ended things with her, and I still hadn’t forgotten the pained expression on her face when she got in her car and drove away. It had haunted me, so much so that I feared I might never put it behind me.
There were times when I considered checking in on her to see how she was doing, but I just didn’t have it in me.
I couldn’t stomach the idea of her moving on or being with some other dude, so I didn’t chance it.
I told myself it was the best thing for both of us, but there were times—like tonight—when I wasn’t so sure.
I was still contemplating what could’ve been when I felt a hand on my shoulder. I turned and found my father standing behind me with a serious expression on his face. “You got a minute?”
“Yeah, what’s up.”
“Let’s step outside.”
“Ah, hell,” I grumbled under my breath and stood. “That doesn’t sound good.”
Dad didn’t respond. He simply turned and started towards the door. I followed him through the crowd of brothers, and the second we were outside, Dad looked at me and asked, “You making it okay tonight?”
“I got no complaints.” I wasn’t in the mood to beat around the bush, so I asked, “Whatcha got on your mind, Pop?”
“You.” Worry etched his face as he said, “You know the vote is coming up.”
“I’m aware.”
I wasn’t exactly shocked when I first heard that my father was stepping down as president.
He’d held the position for as long as I could remember—long before I was even born, and the years had taken their toll.
And rightly so. He was known for his unwavering dedication to the club and his brothers.
And because of that dedication, he was both feared and respected by all who knew him.
As much as we all hated to see him step down, I knew we would find a way to carry on. I wasn’t sure the same held true for him, so I asked, “You sure you’re ready for this?”
“I’m not leaving the club. I’m just stepping down and giving some fresh blood a chance to lead. A serious expression marked his face as Dad continued, “That being said, I know you are hoping that the fresh blood will be you, but I don’t think you’re ready.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“I know you don’t agree, but I think you need more time. You still have some growing up to do.”
“Oh, for fuck’s sake. What do you want from me?” I huffed. “I’ve proven myself time and time again, and it’s never enough for you.”
“Being president isn’t just about being tough or fearless. It's about making decisions that can affect not only your life but the lives of our brothers and the reputation of this club.”
“You don’t think I get that?” I argued. “Hell, I’ve been watching you do it since I was able to walk.”
“Watching and doing it for yourself are two different things. You can’t just slap that president’s patch on your chest and that be the end of it. It’s about leading and listening, honing your instincts, and everything in between.”
“Never thought otherwise.”
He reached over and placed his hand on my shoulder. “You have to trust me when I say experience is the best teacher. You’ll see that this role is a heavy responsibility—one that will weigh on you in ways you can’t begin to imagine.”
He wasn’t just speaking as my father. He was also there as the revered President of Fury—a role he hadn’t taken lightly.
His weathered face carried the marks of the countless battles he’d fought and the lessons he’d learned from them.
He was a pillar of strength in both the brotherhood and as my father.
He was respected by all, especially me—which is why it hurt so deeply to hear him say, “I've been through it all. I’ve been through the good and the bad. I’ve seen the highs and the lows, and I don't want you to rush into something you're not ready for.”
“How can you think I’m not ready?” I tried my best to keep my voice low and steady as I told him, “I’ve been preparing for this day since I was born. You’re talking to me like I’m clueless about this shit.”
Beneath my father’s rugged exterior, there lay a compassionate heart that beat fiercely for his club and the values it upheld.
His leadership was unwavering, guided by a deep sense of honor and unwritten codes of loyalty.
Like a seasoned oak in a storm, he anchored the club and its brothers, providing guidance and protection, and I’d always hoped to follow in his footsteps.
It pained me to hear him say, “I know you’re not clueless. I also know you aren’t ready. The day will come when you are, but for now, you still have some learning to do. Let the road teach you its lessons, and when the time comes, you'll be the president this club truly needs.”
“But you don’t think that time is now.”
“No, son. I don’t.”
“Then, that’s all that needs to be said.”
Without saying anything more, I pushed past him and headed back inside the clubhouse.
I didn’t bother going back to the bar. I was in no mood to deal with the guys, so I headed straight to my room and crashed down on my bed.
As I stared up at the ceiling, I thought over everything my father had said, and it was impossible not to feel disappointed and hurt.
I’d dedicated my life to the club, proving my loyalty, and I honestly believed I’d earned my place among the ranks. Hearing my father’s lack of faith in me gutted me, but that lack of faith also stirred something inside of me.
I was more determined than ever to prove my father wrong.
Not only to him but to myself.