7. Gator #2
The atmosphere was tense, thick with anticipation and the unspoken pressure of the fact that I might be making history as the youngest president in our nation’s history across all chapters.
When the vote was called, the silence was broken only by the crack of knuckles and the shift of boots.
One by one, hands went up, some slow and deliberate, others raised with a confident nod.
It wasn’t just a formality; it felt like a test, and the approval in their voices carried weight.
At that moment, it became official: I was the acting president, steering the club for the next two months while we waited for updates on my father’s condition.
The responsibility settled on my shoulders, heavier than any patch.
I knew every decision from here on out would be watched, judged, and remembered.
I would be in charge without my father’s guidance.
It hit me hard, a strange blend of pride and apprehension twisting in my gut.
I felt the weight of the patch on my back and the responsibility that came with every decision.
As I looked over at Beaver and thought about Emma and Fijor, I realized this was a glimpse of what the future might hold.
Emma, strong and stubborn, would be by my side, helping me navigate the chaos.
This was our trial by fire, and I was ready to prove I could lead, for the club and for my family.
“I promise to be a fair leader like my father and his father before him. I promise never to ask you to do anything I wouldn’t do.
On my patch and on my brand.” I vow. The men all nod in acknowledgment of my oath to them.
Banging can be heard around the table, growing louder, surrounding me with the knowledge that even though my father may not be here to give me his guidance, I have my brothers at my back, who will ensure I do right by the patch and our family.
The next topic of the morning would be how we would rid the nation of the Devil’s Rider’s scum.
If that wasn’t a terrifying first job as acting national president, I don’t know what is.
The room seemed to grow colder at the mention of their name, a ripple of hatred spreading through the club like a thunderclap.
I could feel the weight of their expectations pressing down on me.
The plan we were about to discuss wasn’t just a matter of business or revenge; it was war. We would strike first and quickly.
Images of torched safehouses and mutilated bodies flashed in my mind, the kind of violence that stains your hands and never truly washes off.
These weren’t just enemies; they were demons in flesh, and the only way to protect our own was to become monsters ourselves if we had to.
I steeled myself, knowing that whatever we decided today would mark me forever.
Not just as a leader, but as a man capable of crossing lines from which there’s no coming back. I welcomed it with open arms.
***
Past…
I’ve only been out of prison for six hours, but I still feel trapped, like a caged lion poked and prodded by too many curious eyes.
The club’s throwing a welcome-home party for me after nearly two years behind bars, and I’m parked out back by the bonfire in a folding chair, gripping half a bottle of Jack while the rest of the world goes on without me.
People drift through the yard, laughter and voices blending with music from the club’s sound system in the late-night air.
The sky above is clear, with stars shining bright, framed by the silhouettes of tall trees surrounding the compound.
In the distance, I can just make out the dark line of the river, quiet and steady, as if nothing’s changed.
I should feel happy to be free, but inside I’m numb.
I knew she wouldn’t be here waiting for me, yet hope has a way of digging in its claws.
The urge to go to her is strong, gnawing at me, threatening to swallow me whole.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Rock plop into the chair next to me.
I roll my head to look at him, arching an eyebrow as if to say, “Can I fucking help you?” He almost looks too pretty to be a biker.
He looks like a 1970s surfer with his wavy, shoulder-length blonde hair.
He’s a complete asshole, ruthless as fuck, funny as shit, but most importantly, he’s my best friend.
Don’t let his good-looking, laid-back look fool you.
He can back up his mouth. He keeps us heathens in line as our SAA.
We grew up together in this life. Rock and I have been inseparable since we were kids, tearing through the club’s compound and picking up everything we could from the older members.
We’d sneak beers at club parties, pitch in to clean up after meetings, and soak up stories of loyalty and brotherhood from our fathers whenever we could.
His dad was the club’s original Road Captain.
I knew what a blow job was by the time I was ten, when I got a front row view of one of the uncles getting blown by a kutte slut one night when Rock and I got the bright idea to sneak into a club party, hiding under the pool table.
I was in complete shock at what was going on around me.
One thing was for certain: we wanted to go back.
By the time I was sixteen, we had graduated to fucking the whores in one of the back rooms, trying not to get caught by our dads.
Growing up, side by side in the club forged a bond between us that’s stronger than blood.
I watch Rock take a slow sip of his beer, the glint of mischief in his eyes catching mine.
He reads me like a damn book, and before I can even voice the restless thoughts twisting in my head, he grins and says, “We could always go kidnap her if you want.” The way he says it, calm, almost casual yet dead serious, makes me laugh despite myself.
It’s not just a joke to lighten the mood; he’d go to any lengths for me, no questions asked, all for the slim chance I might win her back.
His loyalty, the way he’s always ready to ride with me no matter how crazy the plan, is enough to make me smile, knowing I’m not alone in this mess.
“What if her baby daddy is there?” I ask.
He shrugs, taking another sip of his beer.
A megawatt smile spreads across his face.
“We can stick his bitch-ass in the trunk until we get back here.” This is what brotherhood is about.
He’s willing to kill the baby daddy of the love of my life just so I can have her back as mine. I nod in agreement.
"I appreciate the offer, brother, but I want her happy, man. If she let this man knock her up, he’s got to mean something to her.” I’m silent for a moment. “Do you ever think about settling down?”
He bobs his head back and forth. “Not really, man. I like what we have going on. I don’t ever want a bitch nagging me about what I’m doing or where I’m going.
Shit like that. Having a bitch to warm my bed and feed me would be nice, though.
” I shake my head at his words, knowing that a partner is far more than that.
“You know the old term, poppa was a rolling stone? Think of it like that, bro. You change your mind about a snatch and grab, though. I’m your man. ”