2. CHAPTER TWO
Church
Everyone except the prospects crammed into the largest room we had at the clubhouse, and we were almost sitting shoulder to shoulder. It wouldn’t be long before King would have to expand this place. It wasn’t like the club didn’t have the money.
I didn’t miss the glare from King as I slipped into one of the vacant chairs at the back of the windowless room.
I wasn’t late, but I wasn’t on King time either.
I had every intention to be here at a time my brother thought appropriate, so I didn’t have to hear him bitch me out, but I didn’t get much sleep last night.
A certain woman plagued my dreams. I woke up with a hard-on from hell that even jacking off in the shower didn’t relieve.
Reaper gave me a what the fuck look and I flipped him off.
My middle brother always played peacemaker between King and me and always tried to keep me from catching hell from him.
But with King, I could never do anything right no matter how hard I tried.
I eventually grew up and said fuck it. Time in prison will do that to you.
Make you realize you can’t please everybody.
No matter how much I did after being freed, like becoming a successful artist, I couldn’t get him to change his mind that I was a screw-up.
One crazy night changed how he viewed me.
If I could go back and change things, I would.
But I can’t. I moved on and accepted the decision I made, so why the fuck couldn’t he let that shit go.
“I spoke with Grimm, yesterday.” King raked his hand through his hair. “That’s the reason for this emergency meeting.”
If Grimm called, it must be bad. We didn’t hear much from the Mother Chapter unless shit was about to hit the fan and it might affect other chapters, or we were doing a large get-together with all the chapters. The look on my brother’s face said it wasn’t about a get-together.
“He needs us to provide sanctuary and protection to his little sister and her friend,” King continued.
“Who are we protecting them from?” Snake asked.
“Bianchi Syndicate,” King responded. “The friend is the ex-girlfriend of a Bianchi soldier, who gave intel to the brothers that led to charges against the Bianchi’s. According to Grimm, they may have a bounty on their heads.”
Of course.
Groans and chatter went around the room.
We’ve had a few run-ins with the Bianchis.
They wanted to interfere in our rackets, which included most pro sports teams in California, except for soccer.
The Mexican Mafia, the prison gang, controlled that.
I’d been on the inside with some of them crazy motherfuckers.
Everyone knew not to fuck them. Except the Bianchi’s.
The Italians were always trying to get a foothold in someone else's business because they didn't like to do the work for themselves.
“Listen. We’re not taking a vote on this.
They’re family,” King called out over the noise in the room, and everyone quieted down.
“Their fight is our fight, so fucking deal with it. Like I said, these women are our family. We're here to protect them, not fuck them.” The men groaned. “Hey!” King called out and the men quieted again. “That’s what the club whores are for. So, keep your dicks in your pants and make them feel at home. Church dismissed.”
I jumped up and headed for the door with the rest of the brothers. I had an appointment for another back piece, and I hated being late.
“Saint, Reaper, stay behind,” King said, stopping me in my tracks.
“Fuck,” I mumbled under my breath.
I hoped I could slip out before he could stop me. I made my way to the front of the room where King and Reaper stood while the brothers filed out of the room. I plopped down in the seat in front of them as they leaned against the table at the front of the room.
“Make it quick, I got a client,” I said as soon as the door closed, leaving only us three.
“Where have you been?” King asked.
“Where I’m always at, King. Work.”
“Da said you haven’t been answering his calls.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. I admired the tattoo of a lion wearing a crown, I did when I first opened Forbidden Ink. It was a good day. We laughed and talked like family. It was the only time I felt accepted by my older brother.
I shrugged. “Like I said, I’ve been busy.”
“You know how he gets when we don’t come around,” King said, exasperated like he was tired of having this conversation.
He wasn’t the only fucking one. I was tired of him trying to fix shit between me and our father.
Shit would never be the same between us, and it wasn’t up to me to explain why.
What happened would stay between us, unless our father took responsibility for the shit, he had done to me.
Like I said, I would change shit if I could, but it wasn’t on me to change it.
“Not my problem, Prez.” He glared at me because I used his title.
But that was how he always approached me.
Not like a brother, but my leader. What did he expect from me?
I sighed. “Look, I have a life and a business to run. I can’t be around all the fucking time.
If he needs to talk to me, he knows where to find me. ”
“Drop the attitude, little brother,” Reaper said. “We’re just checking up on you.”
“Fuck you, bro,” I said, flipping him off again. “You both know where to find me too.”
“Well, it’s time you make fucking time for your family, Saint!” King yelled, stopping our bickering before it started. “You have to get over whatever the fuck happened between you and Da because Ma wants to see you.”
“Easy for you to say. He didn’t fuck you over, King. Or you either, Reaper.”
“What do you mean he fucked you over?” King asked, confusion covering his face.
I stood and shoved my hands in my pants. “It doesn’t matter. What’s done is done.”
“If you don’t tell us what the hell you’re talking about, how do you expect us to understand, Gavin?” Reaper asked. “How do you expect us to help fix it?
“I don’t expect either one of you to fix shit!”
That was what they both don’t understand. I don’t expect anyone to fix anything. Those seven years were gone. Whether my father owned up to anything still didn’t change shit.
I dropped my head and focused on my breathing, trying to calm my anger. “Look, I’ll try to make time to go see Ma, but I can’t promise anything. I’m booked solid,” I said, ignoring Reaper’s questions.
If they wanted answers, I wasn’t the person to ask. Our da was the person they needed to talk to. My brothers wanted me to be the bad guy so bad, never stopping to think I wasn’t the problem.
I turned on my heels and made my way to the door. “Do more than try, Saint. I’m not fucking asking you to, I’m telling you to,” King ordered. “And your ass better be here tonight.”
I slammed the door, not responding to him.
What the hell did he think he could do to me?
I was a grown-ass man who only listened to him if it had to do with the club.
My relationship with our parents didn’t have shit to do with the club.
If my father and me stayed estranged that was my fucking business, no one else’s.
There was more to the fucking story than they knew.
So no, I’d never forgive him for the shit he had done and the years of my life it cost.
I made my way down the porch of the clubhouse bypassing the club whores, a few of the brothers, and prospects as they prepared for the bonfire tonight. Not the place I wanted to be, but I was a Sinner until the day I died. So, I’d stop by tonight, show my face for a few hours, and then skip out.