Page 5 of Raze

“They’re all yours sweetie.” She smiles and I thank her one last time before I head out toward my car swinging the peace offering in my hand.

Ilook around the table at all the men I came here to lead. A few faces look hopeful, but most of ‘em are deflated, and when I pick up the gavel and slam it to get everyone's full attention I suddenly remember that I don’t have a fuckin’ plan. I’m supposed to be the answer to all their problems. The man who will make this charter great, but all I can think about now that I'm back here are all the bad memories I left behind.

“You all know why I’m here.” I make a start, cursing Wrath in my head for not being beside me for this, we were supposed to be in this together. “I see some of you around the table who I know. Some of you I don’t,” I look to Ruckus and Sasquatch who were both here when I left ten years ago. Ruckus was just a prospect then, and I’ve heard that he’s come a long way. Jimmer Carson sure had a lot of positive things to say about him.

“Those who don’t know me will come to learn that I’m a simple man. I don’t tolerate bullshit. I value loyalty and fuckin’ hate lies. Forgiveness ain’t my strong point so don’t cross me and we’ll all get on just fine.” I light myself a smoke and draw back on it. “Now, I know Jimmer asked this when he was here a few months ago, but I’m gonna give y’all one last out. If there is anyone around this table who ain’t prepared to follow my orders and do whatever's needed to get this charter outta the gutter, drop your cut on the table and head out the door. Life's about to get hard enough, and we don’t need to be draggin’ dead weight outta the sinkin’ sand. There will be changes, changes that a lot of you ain’t gonna like, and if you can’t look to your left and your right and be sure that you’d take a bullet for the man in that seat…you don’t belong at my table.”

Ruckus sits back in his chair and folds his arms across his chest as he surveys the others' reactions. I haven’t learned much about the men that I’ve got to work with here yet. I spent last night in my beach hut, with a bottle of Jack trying to straighten out my head instead of makin’ nice. But I will come to know these brothers, I will learn their strengths and have ‘em work on their weaknesses. Any man who can accept some hard truths and is prepared to improve himself will do well from the change that's coming.

“I’m opening the table up to any questions.” I sit down in the chair that used to be Cliff’s and wait to hear their concerns. One of the younger brothers at the back is the first to hold up his hand.

“What kinda changes are you thinkin’ about puttin’ in place?” He speaks so quietly I can hardly hear him.

“What do I call ya?” I look at him.

“Saul,” he tells me confidently, looking interested in what I have to say.

“Well, Saul, for a start, this ain’t gonna be an every man for himself set up no more. No secrets, no cuttin’ deals between little groups. Any work we do, we do as a club and every member gets an equal cut.”

“What if I’m the one who got us the contact?” The guy sitting beside him asks.

“You don’t have contacts, we have contacts. And right now the only person we should be focused on pleasing is Raoul Burlusconi,” I remind them all. Burlusconi has worked closely with the club ever since he took over from his father. He’s our main source of income and it’s my understanding that Cliff really fucked things up when he started taking on work from Burlusconi’s rivals.

Lucky for us our club founder had a good relationship with Raoul and talked him into giving us a second chance. I’m sure the two locked-up Lambroni brothers, and the one they delivered to him to torture, also had a little to do with it, but that's not the point. We won’t get a third chance to fuck this up.

“I have a meeting with Burlusconi tomorrow,” I add, already dreading it. I ain’t the kinda man who kisses ass, but I know that keeping Burlusconi sweet has to be my main agenda.

“Who’s your sergeant?” The dark-haired guy who’s sitting next to Ruckus asks. And without even asking I know he’s the one they call Dev. I’ve heard a lot about him over the years too. He’s an enforcer, who was trained by my dad and you can see that from the darkness in his eyes and the way he carries himself. Apparently, he’s got a real hot head on his shoulders. He’s also another man who Jimmer assured me I could trust.

“Ruckus.” I look to the one man around the table who I know I can put all my faith in. He’s been running things here since Cliff disappeared and since I already decided that Wrath is gonna be my VP, there's no one else I’d rather have as my sergeant at arms. Ruckus nods to accept the role, and I move us on to the next line of business.

“Well, we’re talkin’ ‘bout positions. You should know we’re also gettin’ a new prospect.” I notice how a few of them frown suspiciously.

“That’s somethin’ we usually take a vote on.” The one I’ve heard everyone call Griller folds his arms over his chest, trying to call me out, and the guy sitting beside him, who I assume is his brother Greaser, because they look alike, smiles as if he’s impressed by it. Jimmer warned me about the two of ‘em when we last spoke on the phone. They have stuck around since the take-down but he had his suspicions that they supported Cliff. Still, I have to keep my mind open and give everyone a chance.

“It is, but this person is someone you all know. Someone who’s been part of the club his whole life and he deserves his shot. Ruck, go get Sonny for me.”

Ruckus looks a little surprised, but he stands up all the same and makes his way to the door.

“You’ve gotta be kiddin’?” Vike, the charter’s treasurer chuckles, while Saint and Sasquatch stare across at each other in confusion.

“Sonny.” I nod my head at the kid when he steps through the door and stands in front of us all. Anyone can see that he’s nervous as hell.

He looks up at me and gives me a half smile before his eyes glance around all the brothers.

“Oh, come on, Raze this has to be a fuckin’ joke. This kid ain’t cut out to be a Soul, look at him.” Griller adds another two cents, and the mouthy fucker is already testing my patience.

“Sonny was born right here on this compound.” I look at Polly’s son and can’t help feeling sorry for him. Kid never did know who his father was, and I don’t know what name was written on his birth certificate, but everyone around here has called him Sonny since the day he was born.

“Your mommy know ya here?” Greaser pouts at him, and I wait for everyone to stop laughing before I take the Prospect cut from under the table and walk toward him.

“Just like every one of us did, he will learn, and he will earn his place. Now every prospect needs a sponsor, who here’s gonna help turn this boy into a man?” I look around the table and see no enthusiasm. The silence is deafening, and when Sonny drops his eyes back to the floor in shame I start to regret agreeing to Polly’s request.

“I got him.” Sasquatch eventually holds up his hand, and although his face shows that he ain’t too pleased about it, I’m hella relieved he stepped up.

“There ya go.” I place the cut on the kid’s shoulders and tap him on the back.

Then, figuring that there ain’t no other questions I pick up the gavel again.

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