Page 47 of Owning the Prez’s Ol' Lady

Priest’s wavering faith in God—the faith I needed to pull the final trigger that ended Sabbath’s miserable existence.

And finally, Warrant’s ghostly spirit, and his uncanny ability to put others first even if it meant losing your life in the process.

Seeing them again, made all the memories flood back, and their unwelcoming smiles had me questioning if I had made the right choice. Maybe I should’ve stayed in South Dakota?

“Where’s Axl?” Clash asked, looking from me to Snyder, then back at Wasp.

“He’s gone nomad,” Snyder exclaimed. “He wants to stay in South Dakota with his baby and Ramona.”

“That’s bullshit!” Clash growled. “We just patched him in as Secretary.”

Snyder kept his cool, allowing Clash to continue ranting even though the asshole didn’t deserve it.

“His kid needed him, and I gave the okay, so calm your fucking tits and pipe down, Clash. I got something I want everyone to hear.”

Clash muttered something under his breath, then moved so Snyder could settle in the middle of the room.

“Do you all see this beautiful fucking woman?”

Everyone’s eyes fell on me.

“I want you all to hear me very loud and clear, and I don’t need Church to declare this... Shasta’s mine. Anybody have a problem with that, come and fucking see me. But I’m laying my claim. As president of this club, I’m officially dubbing her my Ol’ Lady, that means all of you fucks better not lay a fucking finger on her, and all of you sweet butts better give her the respect she deserves. The days of Sabbath’s reign are over, and as Prez of this club, I want us to move into a new direction, one where sex, lies, and mayhem aren’t our common values. We’re all good men, and we deserve amazing women to back us. That’s why I went after her. This woman is everything to me, and as soon as you fucktards find someone like her, you’ll see why going after her was so important to me.”

“Yeah, because you’re a pussy,” Clash griped.

Snyder squared up to Clash, getting up in his face. “Do you got a problem with me, Clash? Do we need to take this to the ring?”

Clash shook his head. “I’m just saying that going after her was a pussy move. You abandoned the club in a moment when we needed you, dragging two of our members along with you. What would have happened if the Crows showed up? We’d be sitting ducks. That’s what.”

“But they didn’t.”

“But they could have,” he argued. “That’s why I’m pissed. You left us fucking vulnerable, all so you could chase some tail.”

Snyder shook his head. “That’s where you’re wrong, Clash. She’s not just some tail, she’s my woman, and all I’m asking is for you and the rest of the club to respect that.”

Clash smirked. “Yeah, I fucking respect it, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it. I just don’t like the fact that you had to drag her back here by her hair, kicking and screaming.”

“I came back on my own, Clash. I missed him. I missed all of you. This club is my family just as much as it is yours.”

Clash’s hard demeanor softened. “Yeah, well...”

I left him speechless.

Priest took a step forward, smiling. “I’m happy that you’re back, Shasta. The club just wasn’t the same without you.”

“This coming from the man who kept her whereabouts hidden for four goddamn months,” Wasp growled.

“She’s here now, isn’t she?”

“Barely,” Clash piped in. “Who’s to say she won’t go running the second there’s trouble again?”

“And if she does, who cares?” Wasp bit out. “She chose him. The only person it will hurt is him, and maybe he’ll learn his lesson.”

“Bitter much?” Skid asked, coming to a stop in front of me. “Hey, Shasta, welcome back.” He gave me a hug, one that made the uneasiness lift in me just a tad.

Ranger and Priest did the same, and then someone I was surprised to see settled in front of me.

“Sandman!” I screeched, throwing my arms around his big neck. “You’re walking!”

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