Page 9 of Gunner

“That cop shouldn’t be here if you ask me,” Tango said. “A cop has no place in this clubhouse.”

“You keep running your mouth, Tango, and soonyouwon’t have a place in this clubhouse.”

“I didn’t say anything everyone else isn’t thinking. Bikers and cops go together like oil and water. We don’t mix. He has no business here.”

I half rose from my seat with my hands braced on the table. Fury filled me, boiling, expanding, and I had to inhale deeply not to go off on him the way I wanted to.

“He has business here because some of you morons thought it would be a good idea to use club property to fuck with business you’re not supposed to. How many goddamn times do I have to say it? In the eyes of this town, we are fucking dregs, but some lines we don’t cross. We don’t fuck around with children. Period. Even if they belong to our enemies. So yes, I am helping the police to find out how far this goes to ensure you all don’t bring the club down with you. And so help me god, if I find out any of you sitting here today are involved. You don’t have to worry about the slammer because I’ll take you out my fucking self. Do you still want to object to me working with the cop?”

The room fell so silent the intake of breaths echoed like gunshots. Gone were the days when I was so cut up over Mason’s death I allowed every biker to do as they pleased. That was the reason we were in this mess. Crowe was right. This was my mess to clean up, and by god, I would.

When no one said anything, I sat again. We got through the rest of the meeting with no more comments from Tango. The club was still undergoing renovations. Some of the brothers were needed for routine security at the casino. We needed more women to satisfy the men and maintain the place. Not that it was hard to get them, but we’d been so involved with fighting that women hadn’t been a priority.

The room came alive again at the mention of inviting more hangarounds to stay on. I breathed a sigh of relief while they let off steam, mouthing off about macho shit. I let it go on for a few minutes before I drew their attention back to me.

“I know I haven’t been the best president over the past couple of years,” I said, the words feeling awkward on my lips. I never apologized to anyone, but when our club had suffered this great a loss, I felt I owed it to them. “But I’ll do everything in my power to turn this around. Everyone compares us to the Grimm Reapers and how well they’re doing. Because they’re united. They stand with each other. They’re no different from us otherwise, so let’s make this fucking club a place all those who’ve gone before us would be proud of.”

“Whatever you need, prez, you can count on me,” Mouse said.

“Yeah, we’ve lost blood for this place,” Tango said. “I say what the fuck comes to my mind, but it’s for the sake of the club.”

I nodded. Despite him mouthing off, Tango had always proved reliable. He might even make an excellent VP, since mine betrayed me. I could always count on him to speak his mind rather than to stab me in the back, but I was in no hurry to choose someone to fill the spot permanently.

“That being said, Crowe’s men will step up to offer us some manpower temporarily,” I said. “We lost Butcher. The kid, Bloom, will take his place as our enforcer, and before any of you disagree, go up against him one on one, and if you win, you have the right to speak. Mouse, you’ll work with him. Winter and Tango, you’re on road captain duties. Saint will shadow my position for now. Is everyone clear? Any questions?”

“We don’t have a treasurer.”

Fuck.

“I’ll handle it for now. When we meet again, we’ll decide.”

We recited our club motto, “Live fast, ride faster. Ride together. Die together,” which we hadn’t done in a long time, but as the bikers roared, filling the room, the words boosted my energy.

This club will not fail.

The members streamed out of the room in clusters, almost getting stuck in the doorway. One shoved the other ahead, arguing and ribbing. It was good to hear them fight over petty shit. Meant the camaraderie was returning.

“Welcome back.” I startled. Crowe pushed off the wall, his lips quirked up at the side. “You keep this up, and the club will be fine. I’m glad I didn’t pull the plug on it.”

“You think I’d let you?”

“Says the man who wanted to walk away from the mess he’d created?”

Fuck him. He was right. He was also one of the reasons I still wanted to down a bottle of Jack Daniel’s. He was so fucking perfect with men who would lay down their lives for him. He had a boyfriend who worshiped the ground he walked on.

He had everything I wanted.

I slammed the door on the envy that crept in.

“Go talk to your cop. Tread lightly with that one. You workwithhim, notforhim.”

“You don’t need to tell me how to do my job, Crowe.”

“I didn’t think so, but it’s good we’re on the same page.”

Crowe strolled from the room, leaving me alone. I took a couple of minutes to recuperate from the meeting, then got up. Facing Witter always screwed with my head. Somehow every word out of his mouth made me want to oppose what he’d said. If he commented the sky was blue, I’d say black just to not have the same answer he did.

It was fucking childish, but I couldn’t help myself, and I loathed him for it. And other reasons.

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