CHAPTER 8
Sharp
Watching from the sidelines, I can see the changes that Shar is making, and she is like a whirlwind blasting through dense woodland.
She has stated that she isn’t going to stay here, but I would persuade her to, if I thought I could win the argument. Speaking about wanting to see something of the world, not be tied down to anyone, flowed from her. I would have given it my best shot if I thought I could win her over. She’d be the best First Lady the club could have, but I have seen how she studies the land with a faraway look.
Crack walks into my office, taking a seat before looking directly at me. “Atlas is thinking about another road trip, but I’m not sure it’s the right time, with Shar here and working her ass off to put things right for us. Her getting her business degree has worked out well for us, and Mia is a fantastic friend and support for Shar. But I don’t think anything we do will hold Shar here. Not at this time, anyway.”
“I’ve been thinking the same thing. Do you think there is anything at all we can do to hold her here?”
Crack grins. “Well, I’ve flirted my ass off with her, with no success I might add. So have a few of the brothers, but it rolls off her and everyone can see she really isn’t interested in a romantic tie. She is, however, a fantastic friend to all of us.”
“Yeah, I’ve flirted a little with her too, but no success either,”
sighing because I feel we are letting a gem slip through our fingers. “Trip said she has a good business head on her shoulders. Cord and Ryder just keep laughing at how she’s organizing the women at the strip club.”
“Let’s keep involving her in things, and get Zara on our side. Maybe she can persuade Shar to hang around long enough for her to feel this is home.”
Crack rubs his chin in thought.
“Come on, let’s get to church before the brothers start knocking the office door down.”
Taking my seat in church, I glance around, making sure everyone is here that should be before I bang my fist on the table, getting everyone’s attention. “Okay, brothers, let’s get this meeting underway. Officer's report.”
Pen, the club secretary, speaks first. “Everything is running smoothly, Pres. No issues to report.”
Bank taps his knuckles on the table, gaining attention, “We are running with profit from all the businesses. The garage sale has cleared, and it’s ours. The realtor let me know this morning that the money cleared with Old Man Seaguard, so he has no comeback now on the place.”
“Okay. Pen and Bank, hang back after church. I want a word.”
An idea has just hatched. It’s a long shot, but worth a try. “Right. That place is a shambles at the moment, so before anything gets spent on equipment or tools, I want it stripped of any and all crap. I want it renovated to a standard fitting a club business. Cord. As of now, you’re in charge of that, you’ve done enough construction in the past to cope. The prospects can be your gophers. Get it sorted as soon as you can so we can see what we need to order.”
Cord looks at me as though I’ve grown an extra head or something. “Pres! I don’t know fuck all about engines, mechanicals, vehicles or such shit.”
“Cord. You can get the building cleared out, cleaned up, painted, or fixed up where necessary. Tools, just save them all for now. Any hydraulics, air lines, compressors and shit, try ‘em out. If they seem okay, we’ll have them checked out properly later. If there’s anything obviously fucked up, get rid of it. If there’s a major decision to be made, I’ll make the call. Danny’s always tinkering with that hog he bought cheap. He probably knows a thing or two that you can tap into.”
“Danny? Oh, you mean Snore. You threw me for a minute there, Pres,”
Cord grins at me.
“Snore? Who the hell is Snore?”
I’ve never heard of anyone called Snore in the club.
“That’s what we call Danny now. You didn’t know that? Shar named him,”
Cord grins as he informs.
Looking around church everyone seems to know what Cord is talking about. “Would somebody like to tell me how Shar is giving the prospects road names?”
Crack speaks up. “When Shar got here and filled the fridges and freezers with groceries, Danny was on night duty to prevent any of these reprobates from raiding the food. When Shar got up that morning she found him asleep and he let out a huge snore and woke himself up. Hence, she called him Snore. It spread like wildfire and then stuck. He’s good with it. In fact, I bet if you called him Danny now, he wouldn’t even answer to it.”
“Well, if that’s the case, we’ll make it official. Who’s proposing?”
“I will,”
Cord volunteers.
Crack seconds it and I get ayes from everyone. I notice some brothers aren’t as keen as the rest. Interesting.
“I’ll help with the garage, Pres. They don’t call me Torque for nothing.”
“Well, I thought that was ‘cause you’re stupid!”
The comment from RedLight has us all grinning.
“Oh, whatever! The women called you RedLight because you always stopped before they finished. It was nothing to do with that damn hotrod you used to street race.”
That changed the grin to all-out laughter.
“Gunner! Why do you keep looking at your watch? Am I boring you?”
“Hell no, Pres. Sorry. I was just seeing how long before it was Sunday lunch, that’s all.”
“Hungry, are we? Missed breakfast, did we?”
I snap at him angrily.
“No, Pres. I got breakfast. That cook that Shar got for us cooks like one of them Michelin Star Chefs.”
Gunner sounds more enthusiastic than I’ve heard in a long time.
“Anyone else think like Gunner when it comes to our new cook?”
Suddenly it seems like everyone present has something to say, and it’s all positive.
“Okay, if you’re all as keen in a month’s time, we’ll make Lira permanent rather than wait for the three-month’s trial period we originally said. Next. The tattoo shop. Scribe and Needle are getting some excellent reviews on the website and business is picking up fast. We might need another artist later, but again, let’s run with it for now. Shar hasn’t worked her magic there yet!”
Expecting a laugh from that comment, I’m surprised when a ‘For fuck’s sake,’ catches my ear.
“Got a problem, Outlaw? Wanna share something?”
I’ve been getting steadily more pissed with Outlaw for a while now. He doesn’t bring anything to the club table anymore, other than negativity and problems.
“I didn’t get my name by running a garage or painting shit on people's arms. When are we going to do something worthy of being an MC?”
“By that, I take it you mean going back to all the illegal shit that we used to be involved in?”
I see Crack and Brawl getting ready for trouble. I’m sure there are others preparing for something to kick off, too.
“I don’t give a shit if it was illegal or not, but it paid well and gave us all a buzz. None of this ‘working for a living, earning an honest buck’ crap that we’re expected to do now.”
So, there it is. The lazy bastard wants his cake and eat it. Standing, I look around the room and make eye contact with each brother and officer. “Those days are gone. I’m taking the club to a better place and a higher standard than where we were. No one needs to be here if they don’t want to be. Anyone in this MC is free to fuck off any time they like.”
Outlaw stands from his seat opposite me. “Maybe we don’t want to leave. Maybe we just need a new president that can run a motorcycle gang, as it’s meant to be run.”
“You’re free to challenge me anytime you see fit, Outlaw. One thing though. We are not now, nor have we ever been, ‘a motorcycle gang.’ If that’s what you want, there’s plenty of one-percenters out there that I’m sure you’ll fit right in with.”
Seeing his anger flare at that comment, I’m ready for his next move. His hand moves slowly to his back and I’m waiting for the weapon that I’m sure he’s brought with him for this exact moment. Tensing, while I wait to see what he’s brought, Psycho, who is seated to Outlaw’s right, reaches out and grabs Outlaw’s wrist. Rising from his seat, he pushes the arm up high and takes Outlaw by surprise. Getting to his feet as he does this, he pushes Outlaw forward and across the table. He does it all so smoothly no one has a chance to do anything. Slipping a small caliber revolver from Outlaw's hand, Psycho slides it across the table to Brawl.
“You’re the Sergeant at Arms, you can have that. I’m not too keen on the way the club’s going myself, but I ain’t no sneak assassin, neither. Crack, I believe this piece of shit is now yours to deal with as you see fit. I’ll have my gear packed and be gone once we’ve had lunch, of course. Pres, I’ve enjoyed my time here, but it’s time I moved on.”
“Thanks for that timely intervention, Psycho. If that’s how you feel, then you’re free to go. You’ve been a part of this MC a long time and I will be sorry to see you leave. If you need anything, you know how to contact me.”
Watching his eyes, I’m not sure that he’s as sure of his decision to leave, but I’m not going to call him on it in front of everyone.
Crack and Brawl have Outlaw and take him to our secure basement in the compound where we used to deal with any ‘problems’ or store our ‘goods’ in the old days. I’ll deal with him later.
“Anyone else feel like it's time to move on? Now would be a good time to make your feelings known.”
“Me and Psycho have been through a lot of shit together, so where he goes, I go. I ain’t fussed about going legit and I think you’re doing good things, but it wouldn’t be right to watch him ride off alone.”
Porky never says much, so that was quite a speech, and him going with Psycho isn’t a big shock.
“Croc, what about you? You guys have been pretty tight.”
Croc eyes Psycho and Porky before answering. “You know, I’m not sure. A road trip sounds good, but so does having a place to park my hog safe every night. I’ll let you know, but I won’t be leaving today.”
“Right. Before we call an end to this, we need a vote on a couple of things. Shar has been busy at Dance Mecca and made some excellent improvements there. There’s been a request for lap dancing in private rooms. It will mean extending the club to make the rooms and extra security. We can’t have women in rooms without effective security for them. Any thoughts before we cast a vote?”
Looking around, I get another surprise when Gunner speaks up.
“Financially, I don’t see it working. The cost of the rooms being added would take months to claw back, and with the cost of extra security, we might never see it break even never mind make a profit. We don’t have enough high-value customers around here to charge what we would need to.”
Bank speaks out. “I agree with Gunner, surprisingly. I’ve run some numbers and lap dancing for a profit has to be either, high-end or low-life, and I don’t see Shar allowing the club to go low-life, after the effort she’s put in to raise the club’s profile. Having cheap skanks do lap dances in the main room isn’t going to sit well with Shar’s vision. Oh, and Shar has put Mr. Pembleton and his company on notice. If they don’t meet the standards that she has set, we’ll either be looking for a new company or employing our own cleaners.”
“Bank raises a good point. We’re going in a good direction with the club and we need to keep rolling out quality rather than quantity. Pole dancing has also been thrown into the mix. That could certainly be an earner and also classy. So, votes on lap dances.”
A quick vote and everyone is against that. Pole dancing gets a resounding aye, so I think we’ll have more of the brothers frequenting the club.
“Finally, the apartment above the club is standing empty. Do we renovate it or leave it as is? Shar suggested we could rent it out or, my preference, she suggested allowing the club manager to live there but take a salary reduction. I prefer that idea, as it gives us another measure of security. Do we want to rent out an apartment above our business?”
I felt I needed to cover this after Cord and Crack spoke to me about it. This gets another resounding aye for the renovations and a split decision on its final use. We have plenty of time to mull that over while it gets its makeover.
“Okay, lunchtime everyone!”
That starts a mass exodus from the room and soon there’s just Bank, Pen and myself at the table. That Lira must be cooking up a storm.
“Right guys. I want the transfer of the garage from Shar to the club delayed as long as possible and no one, especially Shar, is to know about it. We know she is going to move on at some point, but I want as much time as possible to try to persuade her to stick with us.”
“Okay, Pres. You could just make her your Ol’ Lady, you know?”
“Very funny, Pen. Both Crack and me have made advances in that respect and got shut down in short order. Feel free to have a go though, guys. You know, take one for the team!”
“She’s above my batting average, Pres.”
Pen always sells himself short, but I’m sure that her standards are going to be a hell of a thing to meet.