Chapter 9
Trick/Jase
I was in a good mood as I made my protein smoothie Sunday morning. I’d once again spent the night thinking about Lauren, but I was feeling good about it for a change.
She was softening toward me, and I was hoping to capitalize on that before she shored up her defenses again. I hadn’t exactly figured out how to do that, just yet, but I was working on it.
“Church in twenty minutes,” King bellowed from the common room, followed by a flurry of activity in the kitchen as everyone tried to grab a quick bite to eat before we started.
We all dropped our phones in the box outside the Chapel, then filed in and took our seats.
Cell phones had never been allowed in the Chapel, but we were extra vigilant about it after finding out a couple of months ago that one of the club bunnies had bugged the clubhouse at Pic’s behest. Bull swept the chapel for listening devices before every meeting now, and the common areas of the clubhouse were checked daily.
While we were a mostly legal organization, we dabbled in things that crossed the line, namely our association with La Famiglia Rossi. We sure as hell didn’t want to take a chance that anything incriminating could be recorded.
King called things to order, and those of us who managed club-owned businesses gave our weekly reports.
When it was Jagger’s turn, he took the floor to share quotes he’d gotten for a proposed expansion at The Inferno.
A while back, Molly had suggested adding live music a few nights a week, and the club had agreed to consider it once Jag had all the numbers together.
“I’ve had plans drawn up and gotten quotes for adding an extension onto the back of the building and making all the improvements we’d need,” he began, rolling out a set of blueprints on the huge table.
“We’ll move my office, the restrooms, and the storage room into the new space.
The area where those rooms are now will be revamped for the stage, plus expanding the existing dance floor and seating areas. ”
He pointed to several areas on the plans, then passed them around for us all to look at.
“The bar will need to be shut down for about five to six weeks to get it all done, but the quotes came in a little under what we expected. Even with the loss of revenue during the shut-down, we’ll still come in under the preliminary budget discussed when I initially proposed this idea. ”
After we all had a chance to look things over, King called for a vote.
I wasn’t surprised at all when it was passed, unanimously.
Even Ace, who generally liked to be a pain in the ass about everything, agreed that it would be a good move.
He’d been less antagonistic than usual lately, and I couldn’t figure out his angle.
I was sure he had one though. That slimy bastard rarely did anything unless it benefited him in some way.
The rest of Church was uneventful, and soon King pounded his fist on the table to dismiss us, reminding us to “Stay safe, and keep your asses out of trouble” as he always did.
Afterward, the Morgan men gathered for lunch in the clubroom.
Ace didn’t bother sticking around, which wasn’t a surprise.
Rome left, too, still not comfortable spending too much time at the clubhouse.
I understood why, but I still hated not having him around more often.
King waved me over, asking me to join them as he always did. I rarely accepted the offer, knowing this was a time they caught up as a family. While I’d known them most of my life, I didn’t want to intrude.
Today, though, I joined in, as did Viking since Sinner was there. We ordered pizzas, and once they were delivered conversation was pretty much non-existent as we all inhaled the food as if we hadn’t eaten for days.
When we finished eating, Lucky, Jagger, and I wandered over to the pool table.
Lucky settled in on the stool next to the table, while Jag and I grabbed sticks from the holder on the wall.
I chalked the tip of my cue and watched while Jagger broke.
The balls scattered with a satisfying clack, and we spent the next few minutes trading shots, until I broke the streak when I scratched.
I cursed under my breath as the cue ball flew straight past the ball I’d been aiming for, landing right in the pocket.
Jagger and Lucky both laughed, as Jag grabbed the cue ball from the pocket and placed it in prime position on the table, telling me that I should ask his wife for lessons. I flipped him off.
“Jagger, I meant to tell you, I saw Christy at the gas station the other day,” Lucky said, once he stopped laughing at me.
“She was buying a pack of cigs and was so out of it I don’t think she even realized it was me.
She was with some raggedy-ass tweaker who just about shit himself when he saw my cut. ”
Jagger rolled his eyes at Lucky and shrugged as he studied the table to decide his next move.
“I couldn’t give a shit what the bitch does.
One of these days she’s gonna OD, and I won’t shed a tear.
” He lined up his stick and took a shot, grunting in satisfaction when not one, but two balls slid into the side pocket.
It sounded harsh, but I sympathized with the man.
Christy had been a shitty mom, neglecting and then abandoning them with King when Jagger and Rome were kids.
She’d brought nothing but misery to their lives ever since.
He didn’t care about her any more than I gave a fuck about the piece of shit I had the misfortune to share paternal DNA with.
The conversation turned to Lauren after that, and I looked around, glad to see that Viking was over at the bar, out of earshot.
Jagger snorted, then tossed me a shit-eating grin. “I heard you were sniffing around her after we left yesterday, brother. Too bad you’re striking out. She asked Molly if you always wink that much, or if you have an involuntary eye twitch.”
Lucky laughed so hard he almost fell off his stool, and Jag’s grin grew even wider, clearly pleased with himself.
“Yeah, laugh it up, assholes,” I grumbled, secretly going over my interactions with Lauren in my head.
I mean, yeah, I flashed a few winks here and there, but not enough to make her wonder if I had some kind of a medical condition, for fuck’s sake.
Maybe she wasn’t softening toward me as much as I’d thought she was.
Before I could offer up a better retort, Tony grabbed my attention, letting me know that his friend was here to meet with us about becoming a prospect.
King and I sized up the guy standing next to Tony. He was a little under six feet, leanly muscled, with his dark hair cut to a fade on the back and sides, with short twists on top. He straightened his casual stance as we approached and looked us both in the eye as he introduced himself.
“Tyler James, sir. Thank you for meeting with me,” he greeted King with a firm handshake, then did the same with me.
He was off to a good start, but King kept his expression blank, and I followed suit. It was our usual practice to keep potential prospects in the dark about our thoughts. If they were a little off kilter, they were more likely to drop any act and show us their true selves.
We brought him back to King’s office and ran him through the paces, asking about his mechanic training and criminal record. He said he was clean, aside from a trespass warning he’d gotten for hanging around a closed construction site with some friends a few years ago.
“We didn’t steal anything or mess anything up. We just wanted to take some selfies of us sitting on this huge bulldozer they had there. The cops took us home and told us we weren’t allowed back or we’d be arrested.”
I vaguely remembered being that young and dumb, although Jag, Rome, Lucky, and I had gotten up to far worse shit. We’d just never gotten caught.
King asked about Tyler’s drug use, stressing that we have a zero-tolerance policy for anything harder than smoking the occasional joint.
“Men who are high bring nothin’ but trouble to this club, and we don’t tolerate that shit. You’ll have to take a piss test, and we’ll do a criminal background check. If you won’t pass either of ‘em, be straight with me now so we don’t waste our time.”
“My mom would kill me herself if I did any of that shit…sir,” Tyler tacked on at the end.
I was impressed as he held his own during the questioning, answering questions calmly, and without any apparent bullshit.
“Why do you want to prospect with us?” It was a question King always asked, one I had answered myself ten years ago when I’d gone through this process.
Tyler took a moment before answering. “Tony told me a lot of good things about your club, and the brotherhood. My dad was in the army, and he used to talk a lot about brotherhood and loyalty and how much it meant to him. I have friends, but I’ve never really had that.
Dad died of a stroke when I was twelve, though, so it’s just me, my mom, and my little sister.
I don’t want to join the army, ‘cuz I’d have to leave them here alone, so this seems like the next best thing. ”
King and I glanced at each other, and because I knew him so well, I could see he approved, even though the change in his facial expression was almost imperceptible.
“I do have one question, though, before this goes any further.”
King raised a brow, then nodded.
“Let’s hear it.”
Tyler’s nerves almost betrayed him, then he took a deep breath and sat up even straighter.
“Tony said that this was a diverse MC, but I know most of ‘em aren’t. I understand that prospects are hazed, and I got no problem with that, but I’m not interested if I’m gonna get shit just because I’m a Black man. ”
That’s when King’s expression softened, just a bit.
“That’s a fair question, kid. You’re right.
A lot of MCs, especially one-percenters, are made up exclusively of one race or another.
That’s not us. First of all, we aren’t one-percenters.
Second, we aren’t fuckin’ assholes.” King smirked before adding, “Well, some of us are fuckin’ assholes, but we aren’t fuckin’ racist assholes. ”
I chuckled, and Tyler relaxed a little as King continued talking.
“My father founded this club in 1978, and some years later, added a clause to our club bylaws specifying that no one would be denied a patch due to race, religion, ethnicity, or nationality. We revised it again a few years ago to add sexual orientation to the list, too. I support those changes fully.”
King glanced at me and cocked his brow questioningly. I responded with a slight bow of my head.
“As long as your background check and drug screening come back fine, we’d like you to prospect for us.
If you have any problems with anyone associated with this club due to the color of your skin, you let Trick know about it.
He’s our Sergeant-at-Arms, and he enforces the bylaws, including the ones we’ve added. He’ll put a stop to that shit.”
Tyler glanced at me, and I nodded.
Ten minutes later, he’d given his information to Bull for the background check and left with instructions on where to go to piss in a cup.
“Do you think Ace is gonna say anything about this?” I asked, knowing he was a racist piece of shit who ignored the club members who didn’t fit in with his whites-only bullshit mentality.
He wasn’t openly hostile to anyone because he knew King would pull his patch, but he didn’t associate with some people unless he had to.
That was fine with them because they didn’t want anything to do with him either.
Hell, none of us wanted anything to do with him, for that matter, even those related to him by blood.
King shrugged, then smiled grimly. “Sinner punched him in the face years ago, when the lousy motherfucker objected to the bylaw change so Joker could get a patch. If he says anything about Tyler, I’ll enjoy knockin’ the shit out of him, then I’ll turn him over to you.
If that doesn’t stop him, then we’ll call a vote and kick him out. ”
“Sounds like a plan,” I said, then left King to do some paperwork. I needed to get to the gym since I had a training session scheduled with one of Rossi’s fighters.
I passed Sinner and Viking on my way out the door.
“Do we have a new prospect?” Sinner asked.
“As long as his checks come back clean,” I responded and Sinner nodded his approval.
“He just got certified as a mechanic,” I told Viking, “so we’ll put him in the garage with you.”
“Good, ‘cuz we need the help. We’re busier than a one-armed monkey with two peckers,” he complained, causing Sinner to do a double take before asking what the hell was wrong with him.
I’d wondered that myself on more than one occasion.
Later that night, alone in my room, my thoughts drifted to Lauren. I still wasn’t sure how to get close to her, since it was clear that my usual moves didn’t impress her in the slightest.
I wasn’t used to working so hard to get a woman’s attention, but she was the total package…smart, funny, and caring, not to mention gorgeous and sexy as hell. I had a feeling she was gonna be worth it, if I could only figure out how to make it happen.