Page 6 of Jackass

Chapter One

Jack

Diamond Creek, Nebraska

Two Years Ago

“JACK!”

Shit.

“I’m coming,” I heaved back at King. What could I have possibly fucked up now? I swore, anytime something got fucked up, it was my fault. Even when it wasn’t.

Walking down the hall to King’s office, I stood in the doorway and waited for him to notice I was standing there.

“JACK!” King hollered again.

“I’m standing right here, King.”

King looked up from his desk. He immediately narrowed his eyes at me. Throwing his pen on the table and leaning back in his chair, he crossed his arms over his chest.

“You wanna explain to me why I made you secretary but I’m the one doing all this goddamn paperwork?” King snarked.

“Because you’re a control freak and can’t trust anyone?”

“Fuck you,” he growled, then stood from his desk and walked over to his liquor cabinet against the wall. He handed me a glass of amber liquid before downing his own.

“How is NoShot doing as a prospect?” King asked.

“He’s doing ok. He isn’t the most motivated, but he isn’t the worst either,” I replied honestly. “We aren’t keeping that name, right?”

King laughed. “No, we’ll have to come up with something else. Though, I have to be honest, I’ve never seen anyone take his shot and miss like that boy does.”

“He should be patching in soon, along with Mimic and Tank.”Mimic and Tank would make strong brothers.

Jury was still out on NoShot, though.

“Ok, let’s get something set up in the next month or two.”

“Will do. Have you talked to Grams? Is she gonna want to cook?”

Grams was Willow Washington. She lived across the road from the clubhouse. Our club brother, Blade, knew Grams from when he grew up here in Diamond Creek. He’d always called her Grams, since she was a grandmother to him when he was a kid. She kind of adopted the rest of us when we moved in. It meant a lot to a guy like me, who grew up in the system. I’d never had parents, let alone grandparents.

She sold us the land we built the clubhouse on when we started our chapter here in Diamond Creek. She’d been spending her Saturday nights cooking for us ever since, and then stuck around for the parties after.

King smiled. Few people got a reaction like that from him.

“Yea, she told me not to leave her out when we finally stopped ‘torturing those boys.’” King said, making quotation marks with his fingers.

I smiled, knowing I could hear her saying it just like King said. “Alright, I’ll talk to her and set it all up. Anything else you need?”

“No, get the hell out of here. I have to finish all this shit you should be doing,” King grumbled.

“I will gladly take it off your hands,” I offered as I stood from my chair. King just glared at me.

I knew he wouldn’t take me up on it.

Walking back down to the main room, I sat at the bar. My brother, Tank, passed me a beer. He was a big man, around six foot six inches and had to be at least three hundred pounds, if not more, hence the name.

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