Page 33 of April 5

"I want a family." Camhead's Adam's apple bobbed. "I only have my aunt, and she's in assisted living now."

"Who sponsored you?"

"Rush."

He nodded. "Good. He'll do you right."

Camhead grinned and stood taller. Jagger liked to touch base with the prospects. Their eagerness had a touch of innocence that experience would kill off. Sooner than they realized, they'd become hardened men willing to die for their brother and club.

He stubbed out his cigarette and flicked it into the bucket of sand by the back door. The vote could take hours or minutes. All he had to do was wait until the others decided his fate.

His phone vibrated. He took the cell out of his pocket and answered. "Yeah?"

"How long do I have to wait?" asked Katrina.

"Until I come and get you." He looked at the time. "You didn't sleep long."

"I kept tossing and turning." She paused. "You haven't seen my dad, have you?"

"No."

"Oh."

Katrina was pulled in two directions. She wanted Jagger and needed her dad. While she was too young to remember when Ruger went to prison, he remembered how close she was with her dad.

She'd follow Ruger around like a shadow. On the shy side as a toddler, she'd cling to Ruger's leg when he hung around talking to the other members. After a while, he'd pick her up, and she'd fall asleep on his shoulder. The two of them were inseparable.

But that all changed when Ruger walked out of prison. Eighteen years behind bars changed a man. He couldn't blame Ruger for how he dealt with life and his daughter because Jagger was responsible for those changes.

Ruger would've done anything for his daughter.

But while Ruger was incarcerated, Katrina had grown up. Sometimes, Jagger wondered if Ruger had any idea about his grown daughter. He wanted to protect her like a child who couldn't care for herself.

He couldn't blame Ruger for holding on to the past. He'd been robbed of watching Katrina grow up. He never got to experience the different stages she went through.

Jagger had. Every single one.

"I'm gonna call Cora and see if she knows where Ruger went," said Katrina.

He grunted. Cora always hit a dead-end when reaching out to her brother.

"I'll let you go. I know you're in a meeting."

"I'll come let you out as soon as I can." He waited until she disconnected the call and returned his phone in his pocket.

She had no idea they were voting on his livelihood at the moment. It was a good thing he'd locked the door, or she would run into the meeting to try and save his job.

That's the kind of woman Katrina was. The kind that would make a damn good ol' lady to the president.

He lit another cigarette, wishing he had a shot of Jack to take the edge off waiting. It'd been a hell of a week. It couldn't get much worse.

The back door opened. Dio stuck his head out and whistled.

"Looks like they're ready for you, Prez." Camhead rocked back on the heels of his boots, unaware of what was happening inside the clubhouse.

He looked down at the long line of motorcycles. These were his men. His club. He'd worked his ass off to grow from a handful of members willing to branch off from the mother chapter to over one hundred members in the Seaglass Cove Chapter. They were an asset to the Havoc-Lincoln Motorcycle Club.

He squared his shoulders. Taught to respect the bylaws, he set an example to his men. But Katrina was family. Not only part of his family but also the club's family.

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