Page 8 of Owning the Prez’s Ol' Lady

Snyder looked around the room, that look of sheer misery floating around in his eyes. “But what if I don’t want it?”

Ranger walked across the room, slapping the patch in Snyder’s hand. “We’ll only follow you, Snyder. If you don’t want the patch, we understand, but you’re the only one that should wear it.”

Snyder looked down at his palm. The flimsy patch sat heavy in his hand, and after a few minutes, he clenched it in his fist, fighting what looked like tears in his eyes. He wasn’t in the right mindset to be Prez, but I could tell the club’s faith in him was enough to change his mind.

“Fine, I’ll step up and be Prez.”

Cheers erupted throughout the clubhouse, even though this was the most backasswards way of promoting him up the ladder. We should be in Church, not in the common room drinking beers with each other and sweet butts milling about. This vote should be done around the table, but it was obvious my brothers didn’t give a fuck about rules and traditions.

These assholes don’t know what a good Prez looks like. Maybe I should pull out my cock and start waving it around like a sword. Then, maybe these motherfuckers will actually see me.

“But on one condition,” Snyder said, his hand unclenching the patch in his palm.

“Yeah, what’s that?” Priest asked.

“I get to pick my VP.”

“Done!” Ranger said, obviously thinking he was the perfect brother for the job. “Who’s your choice?”

Snyder’s head slowly moved up until his eyes were trained on me. I wasn’t sure why he was looking at me when there were a bunch of us standing in the room.

“I’ll only take the patch if Clash steps in and takes on the VP roll.”

“Clash? Why him?” Ranger questioned; you could hear the shock in his tone, and see it on our other brothers’ faces.

Snyder shrugged. “He’s right. He would be the best suited for the Prez position right now. And if for some reason, I’m not fit to hold that title, I would hope that you all would have enough respect for Clash to give him the patch that he has earned.”

Everyone nodded.

“Okay then, it’s settled. All in favor of Snyder’s request to make Clash his VP, say aye,” Ranger shouted.

The room was silent.

Fuckers.

“Fuck you all...” I started to say, just as the room erupted into boisterous laughter.

“Aye,” they said in unison.

Snyder clapped me on the back, giving me the biggest damn smile he could muster in his pit of despair.

“Hear that, Clash? You get to be in your favorite spot after all.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” I growled, pushing away from him.

Snyder grinned. “Under me.” Then he winked.

That bastard. At least his smile was genuine for once.

“God, sometimes you sound so gay, Snydie. I’m beginning to think you may have a little crush on me.”

He socked me again, this time in the arm. “Fuck off, Clash. I just respect you and like giving you shit. We both know there’s only one woman I want in this world, and when I find her, I’m going to bring her home and make her my Ol’ Lady.”

Wasp frowned. “Don’t you meanourOl’ Lady?”

Snyder shook his head. “Sharing her is what made her run off in the first place, Wasp. In my opinion, if and when I get Shasta back, I’m going to let her choose what she wants. If she wants to be with all of us... fine, but if she doesn’t, well, like you said earlier, let the best man for her, win.”

Chapter Seven

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